Return of the Light. Maggie Shayne

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Return of the Light - Maggie Shayne Mills & Boon M&B

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style="font-size:15px;">      “I sent out a dozen more résumés last week.”

      He sighed. “Are you sure you don’t belong out here, Dori? Hell, nobody tells those Champ stories the way you do.”

      She tilted her head to one side, averted her eyes. “You said you were here on official business?”

      Jason sighed. If she was determined to freeze him out, there wasn’t much he could do about it. “Yeah. Wanted to ask if you could help me out on a case.”

      She looked up at him fast. “Jesus, how do you know about that? No one out here knows about that!”

      He was taken by surprise. “About what?”

      “Look, Jason, I don’t do that kind of work anymore, okay?”

      He had no idea what she was talking about, but suddenly he wanted to. So he narrowed his eyes and watched her as carefully as he would watch an ex-con in town for the weekend, and he took a shot in the dark. “Why not? You did it in New York, didn’t you?”

      She lowered her head. “It’s different in New York,” she said. “A psychic or even a Witch helping the police find a missing person is so common there it doesn’t even make the news every time anymore. Out here it would be the biggest headline to hit town in a decade.”

      He blinked three times. A Witch. She did say Witch, didn’t she?

      “You, uh, helped the police find some missing people.”

      “Helped. Past tense. Like I said, I don’t do it anymore.”

      “And you used…uh…Witchcraft to do it?”

      She shrugged. “I used whatever I could. The cards, the runes. My instincts.”

      “You’re…psychic?”

      “Everyone’s psychic.” She sipped her coffee. “Some people learn how to hone it, how to use it. I’m one of them.”

      “So you were successful?”

      She nodded, but she was looking at him oddly now. “You didn’t know any of this, did you?”

      “I didn’t have a clue. So you went off to the big city and came back a Witch, huh?”

      She closed her eyes, irritated it seemed. “If you weren’t aware of my history, then why were you asking for my help with a case?”

      “I just need an extra pair of eyes. Some kids have been borrowing boats and taking them out on the lake to party. It’s not safe—especially this time of year. I was hoping you’d keep a lookout and give me a call if you see anything suspicious.”

      She closed her eyes. “Oh.”

      “So tell me more about this…Witch thing.”

      She drew a deep breath, then shook her head. “No.”

      “No? Come on, Dori, you can’t just leave me hanging like that.”

      “Yes, I can. It’s not something I want to become public knowledge. Not out here—people wouldn’t understand.”

      “What, you think I’m completely ignorant? I know what Wicca is. That is what we’re talking about here, right?”

      She nodded slowly.

      “And as for not letting it get around, you know me better than that, don’t you?”

      “Do I?”

      “You did once. You knew me well enough to make love to me, Dori. Or did you forget that, too?”

      “Jason…”

      “Knew me well enough to let me believe we had something special, then left me in the dust, wondering what truck had just run me down.”

      She lowered her eyes.

      “You trusted me then, didn’t you, Dori?”

      “People change.”

      “You sure as hell proved that.” He sighed. “But I’m the same guy I was back then. A little older. A little wiser, maybe. But you can still trust me.”

      She sighed. “I haven’t changed as much as you think I have,” she said softly. “I couldn’t be who I was. Not here. Not in this town.”

      “It wasn’t the town holding you back, Dori. That was all you.”

      She sighed. “Maybe. Maybe I was just afraid.”

      “Maybe you still are.”

      She was quiet a moment, seeming to think things over. “I was thinking about reserving a table at the Holiday Craft Fair. Doing tarot readings for people.”

      He lifted his brows. “Yeah?”

      “I wasn’t sure what the reaction would be, though.”

      He shrugged. “As a rule, the word psychic doesn’t stir up the same feelings as the word Witch.”

      “I could really use the extra money.”

      “So do it. Give folks a little credit, Dori. Just ’cause this isn’t a major metropolitan city doesn’t mean we’re all ignorant here. This is Vermont, for goodness’ sake. Most open-minded state in the union.”

      She lifted her head. He saw a light in her eyes for the first time. Maybe she was a little excited about the idea of cracking the door of that broom closet where she’d been hiding, letting a bit of light shine in. He hoped so.

      “Meanwhile, keep an eye out for those kids. Okay? They haven’t done any harm so far, but that lake is no place for a bunch of rowdy teenagers.”

      “I’ll keep an eye out.”

      He finished his coffee, got up from the table. “It was good talking to you again,” he said. “It’s been way too long.”

      “We’ve talked. At the diner.”

      He set his cup in the sink and went to the door, stomped into his boots. “I barely get a word in at the diner. They keep you too busy. Or maybe it’s that you’ve been actively avoiding me.”

      She brought his coat from the back of his chair and handed it to him. “I guess I’ve been feeling guilty. About the way we left things.”

      “The way you left things,” he corrected. “The way you left, period.”

      She pursed her lips, lowered her head. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Jason. It’s long overdue, but—”

      “But you’re not sorry you left?”

      “I had to leave. For me.”

      He nodded, looking a little sad. “I hope you found whatever it was you

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