Passionate Magic. Dawn Addonizio
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“Nice to finally meet you,” Doyle greeted. “Manny speaks of you highly. And often.”
Manny narrowed his eyes and shook his finger at Doyle, who smirked back at him.
“Nice to see you, Melody,” Violet added cheerfully. “And thanks again for offering to help me pack the other day. Why don’t you guys sit with us?”
They pulled up two more chairs, and the waitress came by for their drink orders.
“It is nice that you two ladies know each other already,” Manny commented with a pleased nod at Melody and Violet.
“Yes, Violet is staying in one of the villas up the street from mine,” Melody explained, looking sympathetic.
Violet smiled. All traces of sadness seemed to have fled from her blissfully fuzzy head. “Melody was nice enough to offer to help me pack up my parents’ house.”
“And the offer still stands,” Melody insisted. “I’m not working at the moment, and would be more than happy to come by and help. Maybe you’ll take me up on it now that I’m not such a stranger.” Her expression turned melancholy as she added, “Violet’s parents were very nice people.”
“Oh, lindita,” Manny tutted in sudden understanding, “I am very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Manny. And I appreciate the offer, Melody. But let’s talk about something else,” Violet suggested brightly.
She was more than content to sit back and drink her fresh mojito as Doyle and Manny launched into an amusing story involving a woman who had paid extra to bring her cat snorkeling with her. She insisted that the unimaginatively named ‘Kitty’ would love snorkeling because he spent hours on top of the aquarium at home, dipping his face and paws into the water as he watched the fish.
The tale, not surprisingly, ended with a wet, terrified cat and its severely scratched owner demanding her money back.
Laughing, Violet finished her drink and excused herself to the ladies room, only to discover that her ability to walk in a straight line had been somewhat compromised. Fortunately, Melody went with her and prevented her from taking a rather nasty spill on a warped deck-board.
“Hermano,” Manny whispered, his eyes trailing worriedly after the girls, “how many of those has she had?”
Doyle followed his friend’s gaze to Violet’s empty mojito glass and he frowned. “I don’t know. A few. But I tasted one and they’re mostly mint soda.”
Manny chortled. “No, hermano, there’s a good shot of rum in there. That’s what happens with those fancy drinks—you don’t feel the liquor ‘til it bites you in the culo.”
Violet stumbled back to the table, Melody’s hand steady at her elbow, and dropped heavily into her chair. “I’m sorry you guys. I think I drank too much,” she announced.
“No need to apologize,” Melody assured her in a kindly tone.
Manny chuckled. “Not at all, lindita.”
“I didn’t realize how potent twigs and leaves could be,” Doyle joked.
Violet blinked at him, bemused. “Me either.”
Doyle gave her a guilty smile, hoping she didn’t think he was trying to get her drunk. And heaven help him if her faerie guardian thought so. “I think I should walk you home, though. When you’re ready,” he suggested, hesitantly.
“I think you’re right.” Violet realized she was having trouble focusing. “And I’m ready if you are.”
Doyle flagged the waitress and handed her some bills, keeping one eye on Violet as he did so. “Please allow me to buy you dinner,” he offered.
Violet nodded her thanks. She would normally have protested, but at the moment she couldn’t find it within herself to care.
They said goodbye to Melody and Manny, and Doyle helped Violet down the wooden ramp leading to the dusty parking lot. The sky had clouded over to obscure the moon and stars, leaving the night humid and dark. Doyle steered her toward a level stretch of sidewalk, bright with pooling light from the streetlamps. He draped his arm over her shoulders to help steady her, and sucked in a sharp breath when she snuggled into his side.
Her nearness drove him to distraction. She smelled so lovely, like an orchard in the sunlight. And her skin felt like satin where his hand rested on her arm. He longed to run his fingers over its softness. He told himself to think virtuous thoughts, but the friction of her body rubbing against his as they walked was a delicate torture.
“Have I thanked you properly for saving my life today?” she asked, her voice a melodic sigh.
He stiffened at the question. He could think of several ways he’d like to be properly thanked by the angelic temptress beside him.
“Well, in case I haven’t,” she said sweetly, “thank you, Doyle.” She hugged him tighter to her side for a moment.
He clenched his jaw, disgusted with his train of thought. He was obviously not fit to be walking her home. He should have asked Manny to do it.
He leaned down to place a chaste kiss on the top of her head. “Any time, Violet.”
She let out a contented murmur, and an unexpected tenderness moved through him. It didn’t quench the fire he felt for her, but it helped it to burn a little slower. They continued walking in silence and Doyle smiled to himself as he thought about the intriguing young woman at his side. He’d only known her for a few hours, but he already feared that he was becoming addicted to her company.
They were turning onto her street when a clap of thunder rumbled through the night, rattling the windowpanes of a garage door as they passed. Jagged bolts of lighting followed it across the sky, casting the neat row of villas in eerie brightness, just as the clouds burst open in a flash downpour. Doyle cursed, trying to shield Violet, but to his surprise she erupted in delighted laughter.
“I love storms!” She broke away from him and did a twirling spin with her face held up in supplication to the deluge.
Doyle snorted and shook his head. “You’re going to fall right on your can, Violet.”
She giggled. “Dance with me.” She took Doyle’s hands in hers, pulling him along with her contagious joy.
“You’re mad, you realize that,” Doyle laughed as he whirled her around.
She merely smiled up at him, her damp hair spilling down her back in a silken waterfall. Her eyes shone like jewels in the darkness, reminding him of nothing so much as a beautiful nymph that had stepped from the faerie realm to take on human form.
Doyle grinned down at her and decided that, if she was indeed mad, sanity was highly overrated.
Chapter Four
Violet awoke with a groan, wondering why the sun had crawled down from the sky to beam directly into her bedroom window. She must have forgotten to close the blinds before going to