by T. M. Cromer
In one graceful movement, he rose to his feet. “I would give you one other warning. Lin always has a gun. Should you encounter him, be cautious and prepared to teleport within seconds of his arrival. If you have to leave your young man, do so.”
“No! I won’t leave Zane!” She surged up, unable to remain seated.
“You cannot save both yourself and him if it comes down to it, child. Live to fight another day,” he warned.
“I won’t leave him.” She’d as soon rip out her own heart.
“Ask yourself this, would he leave you?”
“He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t,” she stated stubbornly.
“Hmm. I wonder.”
“Stop it!” she ordered. “Stop making me question his motives. Please,” she ended on a pleading note.
“Then be prepared. Lin has many tricks up his sleeve, and he’s prepared to use every single one of them.”
Alastair held out his palm and conjured her favorite chocolate candy.
She accepted the box with a smile. “What’s that for?”
“So you don’t think too horribly of me for suggesting your young man might be in the enemy camp.”
“I’m learning not everything is black and white. You have your reasons for what you do. And while I may not always like them, I appreciate that you do them for the good of the whole.”
A bittersweet half-smile flashed. “Your mother said almost that exact thing to me many years ago. Be careful, child. If it comes down to your safety or the retrieval of the amulet, choose safety first. I’ll find another way to save Aurora.”
Her mouth dropped open and before she could form a response, Alastair departed.
Winnie sank back down into the chair. The side Alastair had shown her was not one he showed many. Now, she had a new understanding of his actions, and if pressed, she couldn’t fault him, knowing she might very well do the same.
“Are you all right?”
The deep baritone of Zane’s voice brought her head up.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“I’m sorry I bailed, Win. All of this is new and overwhelming at times.”
“That’s understandable.” She rose and placed the unopened box of chocolates on the seat. “But my uncle was right about one thing; I did you a disservice by not training you properly. We need to postpone our departure until you’re ready and spend what is left of today on teleporting.”
He moved farther into the attic. “That’s a tall task.”
“You are a Carlyle warlock. You have powers beyond the norm. I’m sure you’ve noticed how quickly your cousins have picked up everything. To me, you’ve always been outstanding: athleticism, brains, motivation. You can do this.”
A fleeting emotion passed across his countenance before he pasted on a smile. “Your faith in me is humbling.”
“But not misplaced. Let’s get started.”
They worked hard through the late afternoon and into the evening. At times, Zane’s temper became frayed. But in the end, Winnie was confident he could hold his own. He had the basics of teleporting from one room to another, of conjuring necessary items, and of casting a spell. Anything more would have to wait until they returned.
“Are we calling it a night?” he asked tiredly.
“We are,” she agreed as she closed the grimoire. “Well done.”
“Thanks.”
When he approached, she caught her breath. She imagined it would always be so, and part of her worried that if he truly had a secret agenda, she’d never recover from the hurt.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” His suggestion was low and smooth, awakening her desire with the single sentence.
“I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
Startled, he studied her. “What’s going on, Win?”
“I’m tired.”
“Let’s go to bed. I only want to hold you.”
She wanted nothing more, but the seed of doubt had been planted firmly in her mind, and she didn’t know how to eradicate the weed it had become.
“I really want a little alone time. A hot bath, some wine, a good book,” she lied. “Can you understand?”
The hand he’d used to caress her neck dropped to his side. “Sure thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As he headed to the door, Winnie called to him. “Zane? It’s not you. Please don’t think it is.”
“I’m not an asshole. I get that people need alone time.”
She ran to him and hugged him. “Thank you.” She hesitated a moment and nodded toward his hand. “Do you have a ring or something I can borrow?”
“What do you need it for?” he asked as he twisted his school ring off his finger.
“I want to add a protection spell.” Lie number two. It was scary how easily they tumbled from her lips.
He handed her his piece of jewelry and kissed the top of her head. “That’s sweet, Win. Thanks.”
She waited until she was certain he’d gone, then pulled out a black scrying mirror. On it, she placed Zane’s ring before she cast a circle of protection. She sat down to wait and watch.
Zane didn’t head home. Instead, he headed to a bar in downtown Nashville. As the scene unfolded, the warnings from Alastair and Autumn replayed in her mind. And when Zane kissed the woman he’d bought a drink, Winnie stopped watching.
The pain of his betrayal gutted her deeper than she’d ever imagined it could. She couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned. Heartsick at her own naiveté, Winnie trudged to her bedroom and allowed herself a good cry.
12
Zane wasn’t a fool. Winnie had no intention of casting a charm spell on his ring. He’d heard her uncle warn her, and without a doubt, the seed of distrust had been planted in Winnie’s brain. There was no better time than the present to give her a little payback.
As he left Thorne Manor and sat in his car, he shot a text to a college friend to meet at their old stomping grounds in Nashville. Angelica readily agreed.
They shared a drink, a slow dance, and a smoking-hot kiss.
Or it should’ve been at any rate. In his younger days, a kiss from Angelica could scorch his lips and make him wild to have her. Tonight, it left him cold. All he could see was Winnie’s large, shining eyes gazing up at him with love. So bright. So beautiful.
As he pulled away from Angelica, he knew. He was in love with Winnie Thorne—the lying little jade that she was.
“It’s not happening is it?” his ex-lover asked.
“I’m sorry, Ang.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m sort of seeing someone myself.”
“Yeah?” he asked, infusing fake interest in his tone, not surprised she’d figured out the reason for his lack of response.
She smiled and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. “Go back to her, Zane. Grovel if you have to, but if she’s the one who holds your heart, who makes you happy, then you have to follow through.”
“Once she finds out I came here, it’s as good as done.”
“How will she know?”
“Trust me. She’ll know.” If she hadn’t been scrying with his ring, she certainly had one of her sisters spying on him.
“I’m sorry.”
“I hope you’re happy with the new guy.”
“Girl.”
“What?”
“The someone I’m seeing is female,” she said with a laugh and a pat of his cheek. “You’ve spoiled me for all other men.”
Christ, maybe he did suck in bed! “Was I that bad?”
Again, she laughed. “No. You were that good. That sweet, too. Most of the others after you were assholes. But then I met Jo, and my world turned around.”
“I’m happy for you, Ang. Really.”
They made small talk for a little while longer as they shared their second drink.
Three hours later, he found himself parked outside of Winnie’s home, staring up at the darkened window of her bedroom. The longer he sat, the more jumbled his thoughts became. Why did he always fin
d himself in the position of apologizing to her for his stupid behavior?
A noise outside the car had him checking the side mirror.
He started and banged his knees on the steering wheel.
Without his assistance, the window powered open.
“Have you come to your senses, son?” Alastair, in a negligent pose, rested back against Zane’s car with his arms crossed over his chest and one foot hooked over the other.
“I may have just fucked up.”
Alastair snorted and straightened. “Oh, I’d say there was no maybe about it.” He shook his head. “I had high hopes there was one smart one in the lot. You Carlyles are a hopelessly dense group. Reactive Neanderthals in my humble opinion.”
He placed his elbows on the opening and leaned in to ask softly, “But the question is, what do you intend to do to fix it?”
“What can I do?”
Alastair sighed and straightened. “For starters, you can get your butt to Saqqara and help my niece find the amulet.”
“We plan to leave tomorrow…” Zane checked his watch. “Make that later today.”
“Boy, if you think she’s up in that room or that she waited for you, you are sadly mistaken.”
Zane’s blood ran cold. “What?”
“She left about two hours ago.”
“How could you let her leave?” Zane yelled in his panic. He shoved open the car door and made haste toward the front door of the manor.
“I didn’t know she’d gone right away. Do you honestly believe I’d let her run into danger?”
Zane ignored Winnie’s uncle and charged up the stairs to her room. Next, he checked the attic.
A sleepy Spring stepped into the hall. “What’s going on?”
“Do you know where Winnie went?”
“She isn’t in her room?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if she were,” he ground out.
Spring snapped to wide awake in a split second. “What did you do?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. How do we find her?”
Her attention was grabbed by something beyond his shoulder, and Zane turned to see Alastair moving toward them. In his hand was the necklace Winnie had been wearing earlier.
The older man’s face was carved from granite—all cold, hard lines and planes. His anger was a sight to behold. “She took it off! That foolish, foolish girl!”
Winnie didn’t head directly to Saqqara. A stop off in Malta was needed to get her head on straight. Perhaps, if she was extremely lucky, she’d meet a nice, single Maltese man who was the extreme opposite of he-who-shall-no-longer-be-thought-of.
Before she’d left home, she made a study of the airport. She’d sent out a feeler into the ladies’ room and teleported just as a flight was arriving, with her passport in one hand and an overnight bag in the other.
She breezed through customs and found an ocean view room at a swanky hotel in St. Paul’s Bay. By ten a.m., she was sipping wine on her balcony, gazing out at the aqua waters of the bay.
The sliding door to a neighboring suite opened, and she nearly groaned. She didn’t want anyone to witness how low she’d sunk by drinking first thing in the morning. Another thing she could lay at Zane’s door.
An olive-skinned man, roughly thirty-five, with black, wavy hair, stepped onto the balcony. He wore only the white hotel robe—unbelted—and a pair of black speedos.
Her wine halted its ascent to her mouth as she took in the view. Holy crap on a cracker! The man was a virtual advertisement for sex.
He bent over the railing and leaned on one arm while he sipped from an espresso cup. If someone wasn’t shooting a coffee commercial, they should be.
Winnie sighed at the beauty he presented.
“Why are you sad, pretty lady?”
His voice had a smoky, rich quality. Prior to Zane-the-Asshole, she’d have reveled in its warmth.
She lifted her glass of wine. “Betrayal.”
He nodded as if her answer was expected and squinted out over the aqua water. “Some men are fools. They do not treasure what they have.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, mister,” she agreed and downed a third of her wine.
He took a sip of his beverage in silence, and Winnie appreciated he could let her comment go.
After another minute, he asked, “What are your plans for today?”
“I have none,” she admitted. Although, if she were smart, she wouldn’t tell a stranger she was alone, bitter, and without a plan. But as a witch, she knew she could hold her own.
“May I show you my homeland?”
As she turned over his offer, she questioned, “Homeland? Why are you staying in a hotel if you live here?”
He smiled, a flash of white on his dark features. “I live and work in Italy. I’m home to visit my family.” He shrugged, and she was reminded of Autumn’s habitual careless gesture. “I find myself with extra time on my hands. Time enough to show a beautiful woman around the island.”
“You’re a warlock.” Winnie wasn’t exactly sure how she knew, she just did.
His brows went up and his midnight eyes twinkled as he straightened. “And you are a witch.”
“Should I take it as coincidence that we happen to be on the same island, in the same hotel, right next door to each other?”
“The Goddess has always smiled on me and mine. Her kindness is legendary.”
“Christ, you could charm the panties off any unsuspecting woman.”
He laughed—deep, golden, and delicious.
They stared at one another for another long minute.
“Okay.”
The beatific smile he cast her was her reward. “I am Rafe Xuereb.”
“Rafe? That’s more of an American name than Maltese, isn’t it?”
“American mother, Maltese father.”
“Ah. I’m Winter Thorne, but my friends call me Winnie.”
For a moment, his jovial expression slipped. “You should be careful when using your real name, Winter Thorne. Your family has powerful enemies.”
Winnie tilted her head to study him. “Are you one of them?”
“No. But to be on the safe side, let’s make up a name should the need arise to introduce you.”
“Are you worried about me, Rafe?”
His grin was slow but blinding when in full bloom. “No, qalbi. I suspect you can take care of yourself.”
She nodded her head in approval. She didn’t need an overprotective alpha male on her hands, although she suspected that’s exactly what he was.
“Whom shall I be?” she asked ready to become someone else—anyone else—if it provided a distraction from her broken heart.
His lips twitched as he pretended to concentrate. “Helena.”
“Oh, I like it! And for the last name?” It amused Winnie that he’d chosen the name of the woman whose diary started her family’s search for the artifacts.
“Why not my wife?”
She arched a brow. “That would mean touching and kissing in public.”
“Yes.”
Rafe’s sexy, wicked tone should’ve inspired an answering effect, yet unexpected tears struck Winnie, and she hurriedly shifted her gaze to the bay. A few hours ago, she’d thought Zane would one day be her husband. Now her love life lay in ruins.
An instant later, she felt the warmth of another person at her side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” Rafe’s voice was kind, and the proffered sympathy caused her to blink back her unhappiness.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I just need a few minutes to change.” She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. “That is, if you still want to play tour guide.”
“Nothing would make me happier. Finish your wine, put on a bathing suit—preferably something tiny and see-through—and a casual cover up. We will make a day of it.”
Winnie turned and got an up-close and personal view of his massive chest along with the abs that went on for days. Mouth too dry to speak, sh
e nodded. Okay, she may be hurting, but she wasn’t dead. Maybe he was the type of distraction she needed for today.
“Perhaps by the end of your time here, we can make you forget your foolish man.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” she returned.
Eyes that held a vast knowledge of the world viewed her solemnly. “It hurts now, but someday, you will feel whole again. I hope, when that day comes, you will call me, Winter Thorne. I promise I will come running.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, doing her best to keep her emotions in check.
He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Go change. I know a pastizzerija that makes the most mouth-watering pastry you’ve ever tasted. Do you like tea?”
“I do.”
He nodded his approval. “Shall we meet in the lobby in ten minutes?”
An hour and a half later, Winnie and Rafe found a cozy spot on the beach to settle and people-watch as they talked about the island.
She noticed the attention he attracted and smiled.
“What do you find amusing?”
“You’re a total chick magnet,” she told him with a light laugh.
Rafe shrugged as if it were his due. “It comes with the territory, I’m afraid. Most people don’t understand why they are attracted to us.”
“Us?”
He rolled on his side and rested his head on his hand. He scooped up a handful of sand and held it over her belly, releasing a small stream in a swirling pattern.
“We are magical beings. People feel the power, the draw, but they don’t know what it is. They think it’s our attractive bodies or faces. We let them believe it.”
“You have it all figured out.”
He couldn’t hide his slight grimace as he dusted off the sand he’d poured on her stomach. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen a great many things in my life.”
“You sound a bit jaded, Rafe.”
He lifted surprised eyes to meet her steady gaze. “I suppose I am to a degree.”
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?”
The soft smile he offered her was his most honest yet. “I’d like us to be.”
