SECOND CHANCES: A ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA® COLLECTION

by ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA®

  “Ahhhh.” She sank into her chair and looked out at the beauty of the sunrise over the lake. The birds were waking up, too, and one of them landed lightly on the arm of her chair and twittered at her. It might even be worth staying in a log cabin for a few days to wake up to this.

  “Good morning, Sir Robin.” A twirling movement of her finger, and bread crumbs appeared in midair, scattering on the deck railing for the bird and his friends. But her mind was only half on her magic.

  “Drag queen. Jerk,” she grumbled.

  “I heard that.” He was suddenly right behind her, though she hadn’t heard him approach. Jake Cardinal made her nervous; not that she’d let him see it. There was a frisson of awareness—a sharp edge in the air between them—that had only intensified since the first time they’d met. They’d spent the entire night dueling with quips and jests, and she’d fallen asleep on the couch, only to wake at sunrise in his arms.

  She’d disappeared before he’d woken and regretted it ever since.

  “Vegas, right?” He sat on the other chair, leaned back, and closed his eyes against the light.

  The idea that he might not even remember exactly where they’d met—when she’d carried the memory with her for more than two years—stung her pride and might even have hurt her feelings, if she admitted to any feelings. She shrugged, putting on a mask of indifference. “Who can remember?”

  Jake opened one eye and grinned at her. “I can remember, and I was drunker than I’ve ever been in my life. You’re not exactly forgettable, sweet thing.”

  She refused to tell him she felt the same way about him. Stupid human. His ego was already big enough, no doubt. Instead, she drank more coffee and looked out over the water.

  “Three wishes, huh? What did I wish for last time?”

  “A giant tattoo of a pinup girl that covered your entire back,” she told him, rolling her eyes.

  He laughed. “Well, I know I don’t have that, so what happened?”

  “Your second wish.”

  This time he laughed out loud, and his laugh was deep and rich and delicious, just as she’d remembered it so many times, alone in her solitude. She suddenly wanted to curl up in his lap and bite his neck.

  Oops. No biting the humans. It was one of her cardinal (Ha! See how she did that?) rules.

  He stretched and, truly, his body was a work of art. She suddenly wished she were a sculptor instead of a Djinn.

  “What about the third?”

  Donya shook off her wistful, lustful thoughts, drained her mug, and flicked the cup into the air to send it floating to the kitchen sink. “A bottle of whiskey. How can you not remember any of this, when you remember me, and that I called myself Ruby?”

  His smile faded, and his eyes darkened to a gleam of emerald fire. “Because all I remember is you,” he said roughly. “I’ve been remembering you and nothing but you for two years, five months, and three weeks. I remember your laugh, and how beautiful you are, and that you smell like jasmine. I remember your intelligence and your stories about ancient cities. I remember that you fell asleep next to me and didn’t wake up when I wrapped my arms around you. I remember that I woke up wishing you were there with me in my bed.”

  She caught her breath. “I—”

  He put his mug down and stood. “Remembering anything as insignificant as wishes didn’t matter to me one damn bit.”

  She stood, captivated by the power of his words, the emotion in his voice, and the truth in his gaze. “But—”

  “Your name,” he insisted, with a touch of Power in his voice.

  “Donya Falling Star Sherazelle,” she whispered, before she could strengthen her defenses against his magic. Now he’d have power over her.

  Now she was in serious danger.

  A slow, dangerous smile crossed his face, and fear pounded a rhythm in her heartbeat. She raised her chin and glared at him. “I warn you—”

  “Donya Falling Star Sherazelle, my first and only wish is that you will now and forever be free of the curse of the Djinn.”

  Lightning sizzled a blinding strike on the surface of the lake in front of them, thunder crashed and destroyed the dawn’s silence, and suddenly she was—for the first time in three thousand years—free.

  Free.

  And then she fainted.

  Not even Irish …

  JAKE DROPPED TO HIS knees on the wooden deck and managed to catch his Djinn before she hit the ground. The last thing she needed was to start off her new life with a concussion. At least he’d known that she’d retain her magic, so she wouldn’t be helpless—

  Wait.

  His Djinn?

  When did that brain fart happen, that he’d even think about claiming her?

  She was a Djinn, and she’d been one for a really long time, so the last thing she’d want is to be caught up in a relationship with a human, let alone a human who also happened to be a wizard. He’d wanted her and missed her and dreamed about her for too damn long.

  Sure, his head told him to forget her, but his arms tightened around her, and he caught himself inhaling a deep jasmine-scented breath. She was warm and soft and curvy in his arms, turning his memories into his present reality, and he didn’t want to let her go. Dumbass realization to have after he surrendered his wishes.

  He could have wished for an evening of holding her again—just holding her couldn’t violate the “no perviness” rule, right?

  He sighed. He was losing his freaking mind. Right there on the porch of a rented cabin, during the Cardinal family vacation that he’d been blackmailed into attending.

  At least he’d put his foot down when Astrid, his borderline nutcase sixteen-year-old cousin, had tried to move into his spare room with her four suitcases, two computers, and a little pug dog named Ninja. She would be staying in the cabin three doors down with her sister and their crazy grandmother when they all arrived tomorrow afternoon.

  Granny. Now there was a story.

  Donya stirred in his arms and then opened her enormous blue eyes.

  “Hey, there. You left me for a minute.” He smiled at her because he couldn’t help it. She was just so damn beautiful and felt so good in his arms.

  She started to speak, but then swallowed, hard. “Free? Just like that? You didn’t even use your other two wishes first?”

  “I didn’t want anything as much as I wanted you to be free of that lamp. Did a bit of research on that, too.”

  She sat up and then quickly stood and backed away from him. He tried not to feel the sting of that, and instead of reacting he headed indoors.

  “How about we go get that breakfast?”

  “Is that a …” Her voice trailed off, and he realized that it would probably take a long time for her to stop expecting wishes. To stop seeing every person she encountered as a greedy jerk who wanted more and more and more.

  Hell, he wanted more and more, himself. More time with her. More of a chance to get to know her.

  Less of the sequins, though, if he had to be honest.

  Speaking of which … “Do you want to borrow a flannel shirt? As much as the pink sequins and lace fit in when we were in Vegas, you’re going to catch a lot of attention at a diner next to a fishing lake in Ohio.”

  He glanced at her and froze. She stood completely still; her face lifted to the golden early morning sunlight, her arms held out to her sides—palms up—as if she were welcoming the dawn. She was a goddess, inviting all to worship her, and his magic yearned toward her like a hound called to heel by his mistress.

  And suddenly he was a freaking poet.

  Damn hangover.

  He was going to kill his cousin Rose’s husband.

  As if called by the thought, Alejandro pushed open the front door and ambled in. “Hey, Rose wants to know if you want to go to breakfast with … oh, I’m sorry, my friend, I did not realize
you had company. Hello, beautiful lady.”

  “Forget how to knock?” Jake bit off the words as he took a step toward Alejandro. The man might be a married FBI Paranormal Ops agent, but Jake knew at least ten ways to choke the life out of him.

  For the hangover and for the way he was looking at Donya.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Alejandro asked.

  “No. Get out. I blame you for this hangover.” He stalked over to the door and held it open. “Out. Now.”

  Alejandro ignored him. The jackass.

  “That’s very rude, Jake,” Donya said, in that sultry voice of hers. “I’d love to meet Mr. Tall, Dark, and Delicious.”

  “Right. Don’t be rude, Jake,” Alejandro said, moving out of arm’s reach.

  “That’s it. You have to die. I know I have some arsenic around here,” Jake told him.

  “Maybe behind the Fruit Loops,” Donya said dryly.

  Jake shot her a look. “You’re not helping … oh. Oh.”

  She didn’t have purple hair or pink sequins now. Her hair hung in rich dark waves to the middle of her back. Her dress was the color of sunshine and hugged her rounded curves in a way that made him suddenly, desperately jealous—of fabric. He almost swallowed his tongue.

  Then he noticed Alejandro and his dumb grin, and he figured he didn’t have any choice but to introduce them before he kicked his cousin-in-law’s ass.

  “Donya, this is the rotten apple of the family tree, my cousin Rose’s husband, Alejandro, the former vampire hunter and current P-Ops not-so-special agent.”

  “Alejandro Vasquez, and I am delighted to meet you. Are you Jake’s special friend?” He shot a smart-ass glance at Jake, who was suddenly thinking of how easy it would be to stage a fatal fishing boat accident. “I wish you’d tell me—”

  “I am Donya Sherazelle, and wish me no wishes, vampire hunter, for I am free now. I will give you nothing,” she said, and her voice was ice.

  Suddenly, Jake felt a lot happier.

  Alejandro’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—I was just going to crack a stupid joke about giving me tips on how to get Jake to act civilized.”

  Donya blushed. Jake didn’t know genies—Djinn—could blush. He also didn’t know that watching a Djinn blush would give him a raging hard-on, so he moved closer to the counter for cover and thought about cold showers.

  “My apologies, Alejandro Vasquez. It is nice to meet you. I might be oversensitive to anything that sounds like wish for a while.” She didn’t offer to shake Alejandro’s hand, though, which cheered Jake up enormously.

  “So, introductions made, get out. And never bring your rot-gut tequila into my life again,” he told Alejandro. “I think my head exploded once or twice last night.”

  Alejandro shrugged. “Not my problem if you’re too weak to handle your liquor,” he said slyly. “Or your women.”

  The door slammed open, and Jake’s favorite cousin Rose, who looked to be about fifteen months pregnant and was all golden hair, glowing skin, and belly, swept the room with her gaze and then focused in on her husband. “Did I hear you say something about ‘your women’ to my cousin? Please tell me you didn’t pull such a B.S. macho line out of your butt and say those words in front of our guest.”

  Jake whistled. “Somebody’s in trou-ble,” he sang out.

  “You shut up,” Rose said, pointing at him. “You kept my husband out until four o’clock this morning, and when he did return, he was singing an Irish drinking song and calling me his sweet macushla.”

  “It’s a fine Irish term of endearment,” Alejandro protested. “I love you, and you are my darling. So—”

  “You’re not Irish. You’re from Guatemala.” Rose rolled her eyes.

  “But—”

  “Shut up, both of you. Our guest will think we have the manners of a great bunch of carnivorous leprechauns.” Rose walked, slowly and heavily, over toward Donya, who rushed to greet her.

  “Please sit and rest. When is the child due?”

  “Two weeks, even though it feels like he or she is coming any minute.”

  “He or she? Would you like to know the baby’s gender?” Donya’s eyes sparkled.

  What was it about women and babies? Even Djinn women, apparently.

  “No, but thank you. With an entire family of witches, it has been harder to keep this surprise than it was to rescue Alejandro’s partner from the basilisks.” Rose smiled at her husband, and the sheer weight of the love in that smile hit Jake in the chest.

  Not that he begrudged Rose her happiness. She deserved it more than anybody he knew, and Alejandro wasn’t a bad guy, after all. The man would protect Rose and their baby with his life; they’d all seen that when their cousin Lily had nearly died.

  It’s just that Jake would have liked to feel that kind of soul-deep happiness for himself. His gaze went, almost involuntarily, to Donya. Maybe if …

  No.

  Time to quit chasing dreams.

  “I’m Rose, by the way, and I apologize for the men in my family. They’re idiots.”

  “Donya, and I think they’re kind of cute, actually.” The Djinn—former Djinn—flashed a smile at Jake, and his heart stuttered in his chest. But, cute?

  Hell, no.

  He scowled. “Panda bears are cute. Kittens are cute. I’d prefer hot. Or sexy, or—”

  “Moronic?” Alejandro interrupted, an evil glint in his eye. “A lightweight? Sad? Lonely?”

  “Stop. Right. Now,” Rose said, glaring at both of them, but then her eyes widened, her mouth rounded to a perfect O, and she looked down.

  Which made everybody else look down.

  At the puddle of water on the floor in the spot directly between her legs.

  Everybody started talking at once. Loudly.

  “Is that—”

  “Do you—”

  “Can I—”

  Rose whistled, also loudly, and the piercing noise silenced the room.

  “Stop babbling and get my bag, right now. We have to go to the hospital. I think,” she said, breathing hard and clutching her belly.

  Donya grabbed Rose’s arm. “Jake, Alejandro, get over here.”

  Alejandro stood there, staring at his wife. “What—what’s happening?”

  “I’m having our baby, macushla,” Rose bit off. Then she arched her back and groaned, long and low; an almost-feral sound.

  Jake, on his way across the room, froze. “Now?”

  “Now, Cupcake,” Donya said, her face lit up with glee. “This being human is a lot more exciting than I’d expected.”

  Six hours is a long time …

  “HOW COULD SHE CHANGE her mind and refuse to go to the hospital? What could possibly be taking so long?”

  Donya watched Jake—with a shirt on now, sadly—pace across the deck of the cabin, and then she sighed.

  “Why can’t they just transport themselves here?”

  “They’re garden witches. Their only magic mode of transport is by minivan,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “If I could carry them here, I would, Jake, but my powers don’t extend that far. Still, your family is on the way, and it has only been a few hours—”

  “Six,” he flung at her, eyes wild and hair standing up in every direction from all the times he’d shoved his hands through it. “Six hours. How can it take six hours to get one tiny baby out?”

  “Well, it’s coming out of an opening the size of a—”

  “Gak! No! Don’t talk to me about openings, or dilation or—” Here, he looked around furtively and then lowered his voice. “Or cervixes.”

  She laughed. “I think it might be cervices.”

  “Who cares? I don’t want to hear about either of them!” He flung himself in the deck chair, and then jumped up. “They’re in my bedroom, and I feel
helpless out here. I should be boiling water.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what they do in movies!”

  “Okay …” Donya didn’t even know she was going to do it until she did: she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and hugged him. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  He stood perfectly still, as if he’d surprised a wild creature coming up to him. If she thought about it, she had to admit that he sort of had. She’d been wild and untamed for so long, nothing to anyone but a conduit to their greedy desires and often dark and depraved wishes. But this man—this foolish man who’d freed her without a thought for himself, who was terrified for the family he loved—this man made her feel safe.

  And that scared the hell out of her.

  She let him go and stepped away. “I’m going to make some more food.”

  “I think we’re good,” Jake said dryly, glancing in at the table, heaped with all the food she’d conjured up an hour ago. “You’re a great cook, by the way.”

  She laughed. “I tried cooking, once. I don’t see the point of it. Why go to all the trouble when magic is so much easier? I don’t wash dishes, either.”

  Rose suddenly cried out, loudly enough that they both stiffened.

  “Is she in trouble? Do I need to get help?” Jake smashed his fist against the railing. “I feel so damned helpless.”

  “She knows I can get her to the hospital in the space of a thought,” Donya said soothingly. “She wants to do this naturally. She’s a garden witch, Jake. You know that. She would hate to be stuck in an antiseptic hospital.”

  He took a deep breath. “I know. I know. Talk to me. Distract me.”

  Donya closed her eyes and wished herself into a sweater and a pair of jeans. The late afternoon lake air was getting chilly. “Shall I tell you about the wishes?”

  A flicker of interest crossed his face and, for the first time in hours, he quit pacing. “Yes. Tell me about how and why I got a second chance, when that’s against the rules.”