Rekindled Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  “I do, but not in the way you think. You’re my hero. You saved my life that night.”

  He grimaced, and the flash of discomfort told Holly more than his words ever could.

  “Quentin, look at me.” She waited for him to meet her steady gaze. “You truly are a hero. I don’t know what more you think you could have done, but I wasn’t likely to heed any warnings. And you did try to warn me.”

  “I should’ve tried harder to get you to listen.”

  “To what end? You might have averted their plan that night, but they might have tried again, and possibly succeeded because you weren’t around to stop them.”

  This time, he was the one who shivered. “I don’t want to contemplate what might have happened. Can we let it go now?”

  “In a minute.” She wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her forehead over his heart. “I need to thank you properly. I need you to understand how much I appreciate what you did for me. But mostly, I need you to understand how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you.”

  When Quentin’s arms tightened around her in a reflexive response to her words, Holly sighed. She had to believe they could work through the trust issue and come out stronger on the other side. Letting him walk away now wasn’t an option.

  Her stomach growled and ruined the moment.

  She felt Quentin’s deep chuckle where her forehead was pressed against him.

  “Let’s get you fed before you turn back into a prickly pear.”

  “I’ve never not been prickly according to you,” she retorted good-naturedly with a light slap on his broad chest.

  “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  “You say that now. But in another twenty years, you’ll wish for a woman with a sunnier disposition.”

  “Never.”

  She hid her pleased smile. “Feed me.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Chapter 9

  Quentin recognized Selene the second she stepped through the door. Based on the information Alastair had provided, Selene arrived at this particular restaurant every Wednesday evening at eight o’clock.

  Holly had excused herself to use the restroom two minutes ago, which left Quentin with roughly three to make Selene’s acquaintance and set into action the plan to retrieve the scroll.

  Since Holly’s arrival in Greece, he’d been wondering how the hell he was going to pull off a seduction. Not only did he not want to jeopardize the tentative bond re-forming between him and Holly, he couldn’t work up the desire for another woman. It was as if Holly owned him, mind, body, and soul.

  He studied Selene from his seat, facing the entrance. She was a vision in white. Tall, at roughly five-foot-ten, Selene had the lean elegance of a model and moved with a fluid grace, no gesture wasted. Watching her walk was almost like watching a ballerina in motion. Her thick black hair was pulled into a chignon with a few strategic curls allowed to escape. Diamond drops dangled from delicate ears and accentuated her perfect jawline and slender neck.

  But it was her eyes that drew the most notice. Their shape was emphasized by the modern smoky-eye makeup technique. From across the room, it was impossible to determine the color of her eyes although Quentin already knew they would be a dark brown based on the dossier. When those eyes fastened on him, his stomach sank. There was no mistaking the interested gleam. It was followed closely by determination.

  Selene changed her trajectory, abandoning the maître d’ and veering straight for Quentin’s table. She stopped shy of touching him.

  “Well, hello, lover.”

  “Ma’am.”

  Her mouth tightened on the word ma’am.

  He almost grinned. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that he liked needling people.

  Selene composed herself and affected a sultry expression. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  “It’s my first visit.”

  “It seems sad to dine alone. I invite you to join me.”

  The back of his neck tingled—a clear indication Holly was near. “I’m not alone. I’m with my girlfriend.”

  Holly’s response was to gently weave her hand into the hair at the back of his head and massage his scalp.

  His challenging gaze never left Selene’s, who refused to acknowledge Holly’s return.

  “You are more than welcome to join us if you’d like.”

  Quentin whipped his head around so fast he almost got whiplash. He could do nothing but gape at Holly’s friendly offer. A smile teased her lips, and a devilish gleam danced in her eyes. What the hell was she up to?

  “Thank you, but no,” Selene returned coolly. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Once Selene had departed, Holly dropped her hand. When she moved to walk away, Quentin grabbed her wrist and drew her back. Words weren’t needed as they stared at one another.

  With a suddenness that surprised him, she bent and placed her lips against his. She pulled back with a wide grin. “I’m your girlfriend, huh?”

  “That’s the way I’ve always seen it.”

  “Good to know. Have you ordered yet?”

  “Hol, what was that?”

  “Staking my claim?”

  “I meant the invitation to Selene. What are you about?”

  “Quentin, why did you bring me here tonight?”

  Any answer he gave at this point would go over like a lead balloon. Holly wouldn’t believe him if he said he wanted to take her someplace nice—which was partially true.

  “You brought me here because you knew she’d be here, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes flashed with her outrage before she focused her attention over his shoulder. “You should go have dinner with her. I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

  “Don’t!” When she turned to go, he rose and reached for her. A deep-rooted need on his part refused to let her walk away. “Please stay and have dinner with me.”

  The eyes she turned up to him were no longer angry. Instead, they held a profound sadness. “Coming to Greece was a bad idea. I should have stayed home.”

  “Maybe. But you’re here now, love.”

  “I’m only going to hinder your plans, Quentin. In doing that, I hinder my mother’s recovery.” She took a shaky breath. “Which choice do I make? Stand back while you screw another woman, or let my mother languish in her stasis?”

  “This goes back to the trust issue, Holly. Either you believe in me or you don’t.”

  “You have no intention of sleeping with her?”

  He remained silent, willing her to have faith in him.

  Once again, her eyes darted behind him. “I can’t blame you if you do. She’s gorgeous. Much prettier than I am.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve not been there for you. I didn’t have enough faith in us as a couple to believe you over Michelle.”

  There was a heartbreaking quality to her voice, and it pained Quentin. He wanted to assure her that he’d still be there for her forever. Yet, he wasn’t sure he could be. At least not until they worked through their problems, and that would take more than a single shared meal.

  “Can we take this one day at a time?” He asked softly. “Have dinner with me, love. Let’s enjoy our first night in Greece without any agendas.”

  She turned tear-bright eyes in his direction. “Okay.”

  He guided her to her chair and held it out for her. Once she was seated, he handed her the menu and lingered beside her long enough to say, “For the record, you are much prettier than she is. To me, you are the most beautiful woman on the planet. Appetizer?”

  * * *

  Holly found herself sneaking peeks at Selene throughout dinner. The woman was a sexy goddess in human form. Never had Holly felt more inferior in her entire life. Yet, she detected no guile in Quentin’s words when he said she was much prettier. To his mind, he truly believed it.

  More than once, she caught his contemplative gaze studying her. Nervousness ate away at any confidence she may have gained over the years of bei
ng an independent woman. Why did she continually doubt her own worth?

  “Dessert?”

  She jumped when Quentin spoke. Silence seemed to have reigned for the better part of their dinner. It wasn’t how she’d imagined the evening going when he first texted her earlier.

  “Can we get it to go? I’d like to see Athens by moonlight.”

  His warm smile sent her pulse racing.

  After he paid the tab, they strolled hand-in-hand through town. Although Athens was a blend of old world and new, the place resonated within her. The roughly paved streets, the red tiled roofs, even the graffiti on the side of a few of the buildings were so different from everything she was used to. Here was a place with over half-a-million residents, and yet she liked it. Each building had a story. Was the rest of Europe similar?

  “Have you ever been anywhere other than home?”

  “Yes.” He surprised her with his answer.

  Jerking to a halt, she gaped up at him. “Really? When?” A small kernel of hurt took hold. During the year they were together, they discussed their dreams of exploring the world together. She hadn’t given much consideration to him going without her.

  “During your marriage.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I had nothing but time on my hands.”

  “Quentin, if I could go back and redo—”

  “You can’t. There is no use living in the past, Hol.”

  “But I feel as if you haven’t truly forgiven me.” The confession cost her, and she suspected the crack in her whispered voice gave her away.

  “And if I haven’t?”

  She raised her eyes to meet his probing gaze. “It might break my heart.”

  “Might, Hol?”

  “Will.”

  “I forgave you years ago. What I found harder to dismiss was your stubborn refusal to listen. Things can’t always be your way, love.”

  “I know that!”

  “Do you?” He sighed and tugged her into his arms. “Let’s not fight. Not tonight. Tonight, let’s pretend we are two strangers meeting for the first time.” He kissed the crown of her head. “We’ll discuss topics as if we’re just getting to know one another. Maybe talk about future dreams. What do you say?”

  “I’d like that.”

  She lifted her head, but not before she pressed her nose close to his chest and inhaled. Oh, how she loved the faint mixture of sandalwood and fresh, clean soap that was unique to him. His scent had the ability to calm and excite her at the same time.

  “How is it that you always smell divine?”

  His laughter rumbled through his chest; she felt it where she pressed against him. “That information is for our second date.”

  She bit her lip to curb her smile. Quentin’s charm was legendary, and she refused to feed his ego. It was much better to keep him on his toes if she could.

  “Back to your original question; I spent time in Ireland. At first, I kicked around Dublin, haunting pub after pub, drowning my sorrows. But self-pity can only be tolerated so long. When I resolved to not be a pathetic asshat for the rest of my life, I explored the rest of the country. After about six months, I set off to backpack across Europe.”

  “I think I dislike you a little right now.”

  He grinned down at her. “I made a long list of all the places I wanted to show you. Does that get me out of the doghouse?”

  She held up her index finger and thumb with about an inch of space between the two.

  “I’ll have to work harder,” he quipped.

  “Where is the first place you’d take me?”

  “The Cliffs of Moher are incredible. I think I’d take you there first.”

  “Pfft. I wouldn’t trust that you wouldn’t throw me off.”

  “There’s that word again—trust.”

  Holly winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to tease.”

  “I know. Seems I’m the prickly one lately, huh?”

  “You can be my prickly pear this time around.”

  He chuckled and led her down the ancient streets.

  They made it about five feet when he halted and spun around. His eyes darted here and there, taking in their surroundings. “We’re being watched.”

  Maybe it was his warning, but Holly experienced an odd ripple, indicating the presence of another witch or warlock. She lowered her voice for only his ears. “Should we teleport?”

  “Let’s get to the shadows on the left before we do. It might provide enough cover to hide what we can do.”

  Before they took a step, Holly’s half-brother stepped from a nearby alley and waved them over.

  “Nash? What’s going on?”

  “There’s a buzz about the Witches’ Council that something big is going down here in Athens. Alastair wants you to abandon this little project.” He looked grim which didn’t bode well for whatever drama was unfolding.

  “We need that scroll.”

  “Christ, Holly, you are stubborn to a fault.”

  Nash’s harsh comment had Quentin glowering and stepping closer.

  “Call off your watchdog,” Nash ordered with heavy disgust.

  “I’ve got your watchdog,” Quentin growled.

  Nash, contrary as only a Thorne could be, smirked and winked at Quentin. “Down, boy.”

  Because the little devil inside her appreciated Nash’s needling, Holly bit back her own smirk.

  “Seriously, we aren’t leaving. Let’s get back to the hotel and discuss what’s happening. I’m not comfortable being exposed on the street if there truly is an event going down.”

  She grabbed Quentin’s and Nash’s hands. Visualizing her large open suite, she teleported them to her hotel room.

  “A little warning would be nice next time.” Nash dusted off an imaginary speck of dirt from his shoulder.

  Holly giggled.

  Although he’d never admit it, her brother was a replica of her father. Acerbic wit, mannerisms, and all.

  “Spill your guts, brother. What do you know?”

  “Only what I said. The Witches’ Council wants everyone back on their respective continents. That goes doubly so for Thornes because they believe we are behind a good eighty percent of the problems that cross their desk. Alastair thinks you should pay heed and come home.”

  Quentin shook his head. “Not going to happen. We’ve come to get the scroll that could save Aurora. You can help or leave, but we aren’t going home without it.”

  Pleased to know he had her back, Holly threaded her fingers within his. “Thank you.”

  His answer was a tightening of his hand over hers.

  “Sister, you need to listen to me. The Council wouldn’t issue an order if there wasn’t a reason.”

  “I don’t care, Nash. This is our last chance to save my mother. If you’d seen her…” Holly cleared her throat. The memory from a few months back, of seeing her mother with her gray pallor, wasting away to nothing, was difficult at best. “I have to try.”

  For the span of roughly ten beats, Nash studied her. His countenance revealed nothing of his thoughts. It unnerved her to a large degree. His resemblance to Alastair was uncanny. Thoughts of her father sent her hand to clutch the tanzanite stone at the base of her throat.

  “I’ll help you. But if you tell our sperm donor of my involvement, there will be revenge the likes you’ve never experienced before. Got it?”

  “Is now a bad time to tell him that I heard everything?” Her father’s dry comment came through their telepathic connection loud and clear, and Holly nearly snorted aloud.

  “Got it.” She told Nash. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m taking your room because this place is sold out. You can bunk with lover boy.”

  Quentin, who had been quiet for most of Nash’s visit, spoke. “If you didn’t plan to stay, how do you know they were sold out?”

  “Smart boy!” Her father approved. “He’s a thinker, that one.”

  Instead of being defensive, Nash laughed.r />
  “You planned to help us all along, didn’t you?” Holly asked.

  “Since when has a Thorne listened to reason? It’s not like I could leave you here alone.” Nash flashed her a mischievous grin. “And if it puts Alastair’s nose out of joint that I didn’t usher you both right back home—bonus!”

  “I’m not alone. I have Quentin.”

  Her brother’s amused jade gaze moved between them. “Yes, he’s like a barnacle you can’t remove, isn’t he?”

  Holly shook her head. “I’m going to dance a jig the day you fall in love, Nash. And I hope she leads you on a merry chase.”

  A shuttered look took the place of his lightheartedness. It was a clear indication he already had experience in the love department and perhaps hadn’t fared well.

  “Who is she?”

  “None of your damned business.”

  “Mmhmm. Don’t think I won’t ferret it out.”

  “Ask him about his assistant.” Alastair inserted, nearly causing her to jump. Holly had forgotten he was listening in.

  “Let it go, sister.”

  “With all the long hours you put in at Thorne Industries, I’d say it’s a coworker,” she teased. “Maybe an assistant?”

  His dark look confirmed her query. “How about we get back to what’s important?”

  “Holly has to dance her jig first,” Quentin said dryly. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Personally, I find the idea of you dancing very important—and intriguing.”

  A fiery blush spread up her neck and face. “I’m with Nash; we need to discuss the Council issue.” Holly was almost certain she heard a deep chuckle through her psychic connection with Alastair. Embarrassment made her drop the necklace like a hot rock. Quentin echoed her father’s chuckle. Apparently, he had a good idea what the stone could do.

  She elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut it and have a seat, you tool. My neck hurts looking up at you.”

  “This should make us more level.” In a move that surprised a squeak from her, he swept her into his arms and settled onto the couch with her firmly ensconced on his lap.

  “He’s a smooth one.” Nash’s laughter mingled with theirs.

  Because in Quentin’s arms was exactly where she wanted to be, Holly didn’t squirm or struggle. Instead, she leaned back into his chest and enjoyed the closeness.