Gwen’s words echoed in her head. Weak.
She shook her head, refusing to believe her sister was right, even though deep in her heart she thought that maybe her sister had a point. Ryland was certainly not the sort of man who was attracted to her. Or maybe she’d just never noticed before.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you earlier.” Ryland’s deep voice broke through her meanderings. “I’m not sorry I kissed you.” He gazed at her lips, making her toes curl in her shoes as heat suffused her body. “But this was not the appropriate time.”
“Then when is the appropriate time?” Was that her voice, so soft and sultry? Rhiannon cleared her throat, but refused to look away.
“When do you get off work?”
His forthright question surprised her. “Today?”
He inclined his head, his pale blue eyes watching her intently. “We could have dinner together?”
Is that what she wanted? Before her mind could work it all out, her lips were saying, “Yes.”
He nodded, the harsh planes of his face not softening at all. “I’ll pick you up at six?”
She shook her head. “I don’t close until then.” Her stomach was jumping and she placed a hand over it to try to calm it. “I’ll have to go home and change first.”
“How about I pick you up at seven? He reached into his pocket and drew out a notebook. Obviously, as far as he was concerned, everything was settled.
Rhiannon gave him her home address and then closed her eyes, barely stifling a groan. What was wrong with her? She never went out to dinner, not on a first date. There were too many chances of things going wrong. She generally preferred meeting for coffee or lunch. It was a short, finite time. If either of them decided they didn’t want to pursue the relationship beyond that, then there was no harm done.
Opening her eyes, she noted Ryland was watching her intently. The heat in his eyes made her clothing feel too tight and restricting. She pressed her thighs together, trying desperately to ease the growing ache within her. What was it about this man that made her feel as if she already knew him? She certainly wanted him.
He blinked and all the heat was suddenly gone. No, not gone, she realized, but banked. “Now, tell me about what you saw this morning.” His tone was brisk as she gave her statement. He interrupted her from time to time to ask her to clarify certain points.
It didn’t take long for them to finish because she hadn’t really heard anything or seen much beyond the mess on the front of her shop. When they were done, Ryland closed his notebook and slipped it back into the pocket of his shirt. It brought her attention to his chest, reminding her of what a nice chest it was.
She followed Ryland out of the store and onto the sidewalk in front. Both of them had fallen back into professional mode. Rhiannon drew on her years in retail to project a pleasant but businesslike image. Thankfully, Ryland followed her lead.
He stopped just outside the door. “We’ll call you if we learn anything.”
She didn’t hold out much hope of that happening. Burnt Cove wasn’t a huge town, but large enough that this kind of thing happened on occasion.
She needed to get to work making the front of the store presentable. It would be a tough job, but one that needed to be done. And quickly. She hoped to have the worst of it gone before too many people were out and about to see it. As it was, she knew word would get around town fairly fast. The gossip vine was alive and well and she knew it was impossible to hope no one had seen the graffiti. Then there was the sheriff’s office, not to mention her own employees. People would talk. It was human nature.
She glanced at the wall, ready to start scrubbing. Much to her surprise, the worst of the graffiti, the offensive words at least, had already been cleaned away. The rest of the spray paint and the pumpkin guts and straw still had to be cleaned up, but it was a start.
“Thank you.” She was surprised and touched by the gesture and wondered if Ryland had done it before he’d come inside to take her statement.
“It wasn’t me.” Ryland stared at the wall, a look of consternation on his face. She could feel the heat emanating from his body he was standing so close to her. He smelled of crisp fall air and just a hint of deep, woodsy cologne, or maybe it was his soap. Either way, she found herself leaning just a bit closer to get a better sniff. It was masculine and very inviting.
“It must have been Jed.” She could hear a slight irritation in his voice and wondered about it.
“Should he have left it? I thought you were finished outside.” The other deputy hadn’t struck her as the type to be casual about his work.
“No.” Ryland gave a self-deprecating grin. Her heart went pitter-patter when she caught a quick glimpse of a dimple in his left cheek. “I just wish I’d have thought of it.”
She forced herself to take a step back. It was either that or grab him and kiss the living daylights out of him. He was too damn sexy for her peace of mind. She concentrated on the wall beside her instead. Anything to take her attention off the man standing next to her. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to have dinner with him. How was she going to make it through an entire dinner without making a fool of herself? At this rate, she’d jump him before they finished eating their appetizer.
The smeared paint covered a large portion of the wall. Thankfully, none of it was on the main sign that hung above the front door of the store. She had a lot of work to do, but at least she didn’t have to face the words. She knew many people associated witches with the devil and other negative things. These stereotypes had been around for centuries. And even in today’s modern society there were still people who didn’t understand that she was a person like everyone else.
She mentally shook her head and stepped down off her soapbox. “Please thank Deputy Bearson for me.” Getting a grip on her wayward hormones, she grabbed the bucket of now lukewarm water and carried it to a smear of paint closer to the door. Plunging her hands into the bucket, she grabbed the soapy sponge and began to scrub.
“I’ll see you later.” The low, intimate tone of his voice gave her tingles in all the right places.
She could sense him hovering just behind her, but she didn’t turn around. If she did, she might do something stupid, like wrap her arms around him and ask him to stay. “Yeah, tonight.”
As she scrubbed, she heard his footsteps retreating in the distance. The car door opened and closed and the engine turned over. When she heard him back up and drive away, she turned her head and watched his official vehicle disappear down the road. Sighing, she brought her attention back to the job at hand. Her hands were cold as she dunked them in the soapy water and swirled the sponge around.
Whether by chance or magick, she was having dinner with a handsome man tonight. A smile played at her lips as she pondered where they would go and, more importantly, what she would wear.
By half past six, Rhiannon was no longer smiling, but was feeling distinctly frazzled as she unlocked the front door to her house. Abigail raised her head and meowed a greeting as Rhiannon scurried into the kitchen, yanked open the cupboard door and pulled down a can of gourmet cat food. “That’s easy for you to say,” she told Abigail as the cat followed her into the kitchen. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.”
This day had been a blur of activity, and it wasn’t over yet. She’d barely had the last of the graffiti cleaned off the building this morning, or as much of it as would come off, when Ada had arrived to deliver muffins, three pies, a chocolate cake and six types of cookies to stock the cafe. Then Amy, her one full-time employee, had shown up and seen the remnants of the mess outside. Rhiannon had ended up having to explain what had happened, but she’d omitted telling them exactly what had been written there. Both women had been angry on her behalf and Rhiannon had ended up getting upset all over again.
But bless Amy. In her quiet, efficient manner, she had pots of coffee brewing in the café in no time and had brought a fresh cup to Rhiannon’s office. It had helped her ground herself before
she’d had to face another busy business day.
After retrieving her clipboard, she’d spent the first hour phoning in several orders and chasing down others. Then she’d faced the inevitable and called around to several local contractors, getting quotes on how much it would cost to repaint the front of the building. All the soap and elbow grease in the world wasn’t going to get rid of the remains of last night’s mischief. Luckily, she found a painter whose price was reasonable and who also happened to be available to start tomorrow.
She’d planned to sneak out just after lunch and look for a new outfit to wear to dinner. After all, she hadn’t been on a date in so long she could barely remember her last one. She thought it might have been a coffee date with her accountant back in California. Sad, but true. She’d been too busy starting A Touch of Magick since she’d moved here to even consider dating. Not that anyone had asked.
But she and Amy had been kept hopping all day serving a steady stream of customers. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that the story of what had happened was already making the rounds in town. She also knew the source. Ada was a fabulous baker, but she was also the unofficial town crier. Rhiannon figured the phone lines had been burning up before Ada had made it back to her car this morning.
Still, on the plus side, the shop had done a brisk business, and the steady cha-ching of the cash register made her merchant’s heart beat faster. When the door finally closed at six, Rhiannon was ready to go home, pull on her nightgown and curl up with a bowl of cereal.
Instead, she had to rush home, feed Abigail, grab a quick shower and figure out what to wear.
What had possessed her to accept Ryland’s invitation to dinner?
“Sex,” she informed Abigail. “All this is because I wanted hot, sweaty sex.” The cat tilted her head to one side, listening intently. “Or at least a date,” she added honestly as she opened the can of cat food and scooped it onto a china plate. Abigail preferred to eat off fine china and eschewed plastic or metal dishes.
“Is that so wrong?” Rhiannon continued as she dumped the empty can into the trash. Abigail made a small sound, something between a meow and a chirp, before settling down to eat.
“Maybe it was the ceremony last night, or maybe it was because of my talk with Gwen this morning.” She paused. “You don’t think Gwen cast that spell, do you?”
Abigail raised her dainty head, giving it a quick shake before returning to her meal. Rhiannon nodded. “I don’t think so either. Too soon.”
She glanced at the clock and was shocked by the time. Less than a half hour until Ryland was due to arrive. “Keep an eye out for Ryland for me.”
Abigail raised her head and meowed before turning her attention back to her dinner.
Taking that as a yes, Rhiannon hurried off to her bedroom, pulling off her sweater as she went. She needed a quick shower and a change of clothing. She’d worked hard today and looked and smelled less than fresh.
Exactly seven minutes later, after taking her fastest shower on record, she stood wrapped in a towel in front of her closet door, pondering what to wear. “This is ridiculous,” she told herself as she flipped through hanger after hanger. Her hair was wet, she had no makeup on and she was dripping on her hardwood floor. There was no time to worry about what to wear. If Ryland was on time, and she suspected he would be, he’d be here any minute.
“Casual. Keep it casual.” This was simply dinner with someone she’d just met. “This is not a real date.” But saying it aloud didn’t negate her jitters. She was lying to herself anyway. By any definition, this was a date. And with the hottest guy she’d ever laid eyes on.
Ryland wasn’t handsome in the classic sense. He was rugged and exuded masculine confidence. Whatever it was about him, he certainly revved her internal engine. If she was lucky this might go somewhere. Straight to her bed, if she had her way.
“You’re a shameless hussy,” she told herself as she grabbed a pair of gray trousers and tossed them onto the bed. A tailored blouse in a flattering shade of purple followed. “You can’t sleep with him on the first date on principle alone.” There were unwritten rules when it came to these things. She figured pants were a much better choice than a skirt.
A male hand could easily slip beneath a skirt to stroke her calf, her inner thigh or even higher. Her breathing got quicker, shallower. She closed her eyes and could almost feel Ryland’s rough hand caressing her leg. Her nipples pebbled and she squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache between her legs.
“Stop it.” She spun away from her closet and turned to her dresser. “Remember the rules.” Even if she didn’t particularly like them at the moment, they made sense. A woman couldn’t be too careful, especially in this day and age. But that didn’t mean things couldn’t get interesting.
Opening her underwear drawer, she plucked out a lacy pair of bikini panties and a matching bra in what she called “passion” purple. “For courage,” she assured herself as she tugged them on.
She slid her trousers on over her sexy underwear and pulled on her blouse, doing up all but the top two buttons. A little cleavage was never a bad thing. A pair of gray high heels completed her ensemble.
The front bell chimed as she rifled through her jewelry box. She grabbed her favorite choker, a thick band of hammered silver with an amethyst embedded in the center, and slipped it on. There was no time to change her earrings.
Raking her hand through her hair, she hurried to the door just as it chimed again. She shot Abigail a glare as she passed her in the hallway. “You were supposed to warn me when he got here.” Completely unconcerned, the cat blinked at her. Rhiannon sighed when the doorbell rang for the third time.
Groaning, she realized she’d had no time to put on any makeup. A quick glance in the mirror by the front door showed her cheeks had color from all her rushing around and her eyes were bright with anticipation. It would have to do. She had lipstick in her purse. She could always slip off to the ladies room later and slick some on.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open.
Ryland was reaching for the bell again when the door was finally pulled open. He’d started to wonder if Rhiannon had changed her mind. He’d had second and third thoughts himself today as to the wisdom of asking her out on a date. But in the end, he hadn’t been able to stay away. Something about Rhiannon called to him on a deep, basic level. He knew he wanted her sexually, but he was afraid it went much deeper than that.
He blinked, staring at the vision in front of him. Her hair was still damp, her skin almost luminescent. Obviously, she’d just gotten out of the shower. She was dressed simply in gray trousers and a blouse, but what they did to her body should be illegal.
The pants were tailored to fit her slim build and hugged her hips and waist like a second skin, outlining every curve and hollow. And that blouse—he swallowed hard. The material looked soft and flowed over her torso, cupping her ample breasts and displaying them to perfection, while the color almost matched her vibrant eyes. The deep vee drew his gaze. He could almost see her bra. It was tantalizing and made him want to undo one more button just so he could see what she was wearing beneath.
The strange thing was she hadn’t exactly dressed for seduction. There was nothing overtly sexy about what she was wearing. She could be going to a business meeting or any other public function instead of going on a first date with him. God help him if she ever did decide to pull out all the stops to seduce him. His heart probably wouldn’t stand the strain.
He snorted under his breath. He should be so lucky.
A bead of sweat trickled down his spine and he clenched his fists at his sides to keep from reaching out and dragging her into his arms. He didn’t want to take Rhiannon to dinner. He wanted to take her to bed.
First date, he reminded himself. Dinner.
“Hi.” Her soft voice broke the silence between them.
“Hi, yourself. You ready to go?”
She opened the door wider. “Come on in and make yo
urself at home. I was just finishing getting dressed.”
He stepped inside and got a whiff of her perfume. Or maybe it was her soap. Whatever it was, it reminded him of flowers, of spring. His cock stirred and he was glad he was wearing a suit jacket to cover his obvious arousal.
Oblivious to his physical discomfort, Rhiannon headed down the short hallway and he watched her every step, admiring the way her pants cupped her heart-shaped ass.
She glanced over her shoulder as she started up a set of stairs. “I just need to grab my bag. I’ll be right back.”
Ryland shifted uncomfortably. It was going to be a long evening. Anticipation filled him and he smiled. He was looking forward to getting to know Rhiannon Sparks better. Much better.
Chapter Four
The drive to the restaurant passed mostly in silence. Butterflies were doing the rumba in her stomach and she placed her hand over it, hoping to settle her nerves. Not likely.
She was all too aware of Ryland sitting in the driver’s seat. He was so close she could reach out her hand and touch him. He was a large man. Solid. He’d definitely have a hard time fitting comfortably into her economical, compact car. The thought of him trying to fit his legs beneath the console made her smile. It didn’t surprise her he drove a truck.
Thankfully, she’d worn pants and he had running boards, otherwise she might not have been able to climb into the thing. And wouldn’t that have been embarrassing.
Or maybe not. If he hadn’t had running boards, he would have had to wrap his broad, strong hands around her waist and lift her into his truck. She sucked in a breath at the thought of being that close to him. Her breasts probably would have brushed against his solid chest.
A Touch of Magick: Spells, Seduction and Secrets, Book 1 Page 4
