Under His Spell. Kristin Hardy

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Under His Spell - Kristin Hardy Mills & Boon Cherish

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own good, she thought. The Vandyke had changed to a Fu Manchu, she saw, sharpening his chin, making that mouth of his look far too interesting.

      A crash made her jump. She looked around to see a display of wands and spells scattered on the floor, courtesy of the boys with goblin heads.

      “Richie, Matt, that’s enough,” the teacher scolded. “Now you go over and help clean that up.”

      “Don’t worry about it,” Lainie said. “I’ll take care of it.” The last thing she wanted was for them to walk away with bad memories of the museum. She knelt down next to the colorful pile of plastic and glitter, righting the magenta canister that had held the wands.

      Out of the corner of her eye saw J.J. head over. She glanced up at him.

      And it took her breath.

      She’d known he was there, she’d watched him walk over. Even so, there was something about the jolt of that blue gaze that sent adrenaline flooding through her system. She frowned at herself. It was one thing to have the heart-thudding thing happen when he’d popped up out of the blue. It shouldn’t be happening now.

      He bent down next to her to help, picking up the packets and examining them. “Love potions?” he asked, holding one up.

      She took it from him. “What’s the matter, Speed, losing your edge?”

      “Not me.”

      “What a relief. It would be the end of civilization as we know it. Although I use that term loosely where you’re concerned,” she added, picking up the rest of the wands and rising. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence?”

      He grinned. “I’ve got an appointment.”

      “In Salem?”

      “In Boston.”

      She snorted. “I hope you’re better at staying on the piste when you’re racing than you are at following directions. This isn’t Boston.”

      “I thought something looked funny,” he replied.

      “South. A long way south. The highway’s right out there,” she added helpfully.

      He didn’t move. “Trying to get rid of me, Lainie?”

      “Why, Speed, whatever would give you that idea?” She reached out to toy with a leaflet that promised step-by-step directions to putting a hex on someone.

      “Should I be nervous that you’re holding on to that?”

      “No, the time to get nervous is when I go after the voodoo doll.”

      He gave her a quick glance. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, have broken one of those out already?” He rubbed his shoulder. “It would explain a lot.”

      “No, it’s an inspiration I’ve never had until now. Worth keeping in mind, though,” she added thoughtfully. “Why, are you having problems?” Not that she should care, of course.

      J.J. shrugged, a little stiffly, now that she noticed it. “Ah, I screwed up my shoulder back in July.”

      “Screwed it up?”

      “Dislocated the son of a bitch.”

      “What, did you trip over your ego?”

      He grinned. “Mountain biking.”

      “I am so not surprised.”

      Suddenly his eyes seemed darker and he was much closer than he had been. Suddenly she was neatly boxed in between him and the corner shelves. “You know, Lainie, one of these days I will surprise you.”

      For an instant she didn’t move; she couldn’t. Then she forced herself to swallow with a throat gone bone dry. “Yeah, well, I’ll be right here holding my breath for when that happens.” She pushed past him, out into the center of the shop.

      But he’d gotten to her in that moment, and he knew it. She could tell from the enjoyment flickering in his eyes.

      “Gee, it’s been fun, J.J. I’ve got to get to a meeting,” she said briskly.

      “Over at the Seven Gables Inn?” At her startled glance, he shrugged. “I heard you talking with your friend.”

      “My boss, but yes at the Seven Gables Inn. Anyway, I’m late, I’ve got to go.”

      “Nice day for a walk,” he added.

      J.J. stood in the museum courtyard, waiting for Lainie. He wasn’t entirely sure what ridiculous impulse had led him to stop in Salem, only that when he had an impulse, he usually found it worthwhile to ride with it. Traffic had cooperated on the drive down from New Hampshire. When he’d glanced at the dash clock and seen that he had a few hours to kill, he hadn’t thought but just gone with the first thing that came to mind.

      And in the two days that had passed since the party, Lainie had come to mind a lot.

      It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar situation. She’d always had a way of flickering through his thoughts at the most unexpected of times—when he was thousands of miles away, flying down an icy mountain, standing at a party in a room filled with the music of a dozen languages.

      And sometimes, unsettlingly, in his dreams. Best not to think of that, he reminded himself. Better to banish those pulse-pounding images to the dark corners of his mind where they belonged. The problem was, this time out of the gate he wasn’t being so successful at the banishing stuff, maybe because he was at loose ends, maybe because he wasn’t involved with anyone.

      Or maybe because of that moment at Gabe’s party, that strange little snap of connection that had whipped through his system before he’d been prepared for it.

      “You still here?”

      It was Lainie, frowning at him, laptop slung over her shoulder. She wasn’t wearing the little skirt and crop top this time but a long summer dress made of some intriguingly fragile-looking fabric that shimmered over the slip beneath and flowed around her calves like water.

      It should have looked demure, with its faintly old-fashioned looking pattern of pale blossoms, but all it did was make him itch to unfasten the row of buttons that ran down the front, beginning with the hem and rising to where the fabric dipped down around the slender column of her throat. She wore a necklace with a single bead like a flat pearl, pierced from side to side with a string-thin leather thong so that it sat atop the hollow where her collarbones came together.

      “Earth to J.J.”

      He’d been staring, he realized.

      “I have to go. You shouldn’t have waited.”

      And she clearly hadn’t wanted him to, though that didn’t bother him. Not when he saw the faint pulse begin to beat in her throat. “Salem could be a tough town. I owe it to your parents not to let you walk around alone. Although—” he eyed the black bulk of her laptop case “—that thing probably counts as a lethal weapon.”

      “Try to remember that,”

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