Just One Taste (16 page)

“But then I bumped in to an old friend of Joseph’s. He’d tippled a bit, and drew me off into a corner to tell me about the society he and Joseph had belonged to. They practiced Black Magic, or tried to. It seems Joseph was the only one who came close to being a success.”

“But he died!”

“Ah, yes, but I still live. Joseph’s friend postulated that I was the beneficiary of a spell designed to make a loving couple eternally youthful and fulfilled in the conjugal bed. But I did not love Sir Joseph, and cost him his life.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Cade paused. “Do you think you can untie me now? I’ll be good.”

“Oh!” Juliet flushed. She fumbled with the knots until Cade told her to get the knife again.

When she was done, he shook his hands to get some feeling back into them. “Were you a Girl Scout? You tie a helluva knot.”

“I’ve been a troopleader several times. They didn’t have Girl Scouts when I was a child. There was really nothing to do but embroider and paint indifferent watercolors. You’re free now. If you want to leave, we can start back to Portland.”

Cade put a numb hand to her cheek. “It’s late. Looks like you’ve got a perfectly good bed over there. I think I can take a few days off. Maybe between the two of us, we can mumble an incantation or two.”

Juliet threw her arms around him and kissed him fiercely.

“Uh uh. Not yet. The box of food is still in the car and if I remember correctly, I missed lunch because I was getting kidnapped. What’s for dinner?”

He was just as crazy as she was.

J
uliet emerged
from the bathroom in a white robe that covered her from ankles to chin. She hadn’t felt this nervous since her wedding night, after her mama had finally clued her in as to what Sir Joseph would expect of her.

Juliet could remember recoiling with absolute horror that such a thing was even possible between humans, although as a country miss, she’d seen many a barnyard bridal night in broad daylight.

But she needn’t have worried overmuch. Despite his considerable girth, Sir Joseph was built for speed, spilling his seed in the blink of an eye. He had then kissed her forehead and gone back into his laboratory in the cellars. She had lain alone in the enormous tester bed, wishing for a bottle of wine and a warm bath.

Over the next ten years she had learned to stash a bottle or two under her bed to help her get through the nights. In the daytime she did good works and sewed. Put up preserves. Read the Bible from the first page to the last and began again. Read novels, too, much to Sir Joseph’s disgust.

She knew now he must have seen the dashing fictional heroes as a threat, for he fell short as a husband in so very many ways. She waited in vain for a child to alleviate her boredom, but was denied that bootied blessing.

Then she was a rich, fashionable widow. Along came the Earl. Much younger than Sir Joseph, certainly, but more interested in his own pleasure than hers. Once he broke off their liaison and married his virginal nitwit, the now-experienced nitwit drove him to drink, debauchery and an early grave within a year. Juliet had no doubt the Earl was glad to take his leave.

Why was she entertaining such troubling thoughts this evening? Soon Cade would help her forget her sorry past. But the specters of the men who had briefly shared her bed were ever on her conscience.

Dear, dear Aubrey, a victim of that dreadful little Corsican upstart. Then le Comte Dufour, who was not quite so dear. She was unable to endure him for more than one and a half encounters, so heavily did he reek of garlic and Gallic pride. But he was handsome in his custom-tailored uniform, killed in a duel when a fellow officer had the audacity to criticize his choice of buttons.

Dear, dear Tony, fallen at the Battle of Balaclava. Dear, dear Tommy, shot down over the Channel. Dear, dear Francis Foxworth Lymington III, a Charleston boy who perished in a swamp in Vietnam. Fox couldn’t hold his liquor, but he was a divine dancer. Years of dancing school, come-outs and cotillions had seen to that. He’d been devoted to his mama, too. But every man in his family had gone to the Citadel and done his duty. Fox had paid the ultimate price for family tradition.

And last, dear, dear Cade, who lay against a pile of vintage matelasse pillows on her iron bed, the bedcovers thrown aside. His T-shirt and pajama pants had disappeared, and the happiness he felt to see her was more than in evidence. Juliet nervously licked her lips.

“You’re a little over-dressed, Julie,” He grinned, and Juliet’s heart did a little flip. He was so very attractive, with just a hint of the naughty boy his mother had assured her he had been. Juliet felt certain that after tonight, even if they didn’t marry, her love for him would be enough to fix her future. She unbelted her robe, laying it on the antique chest at the foot of the bed.

“Much, much better.”

She saw the appreciative glint in his eyes. Her figure was not in fashion for the twenty-first century—she was too short and too fleshy. No one would ever mistake her for a heroin-chic model. Her thighs touched when she walked, her breasts bounced. But Cade seemed to like her just the way she was. She lay down next to him and brushed his stubbled cheek with one small hand.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you when we broke up. I was afraid for you.”

“Shh. It’s all in the past.” He laughed at his joke and pulled her closer.

And then his lips covered hers, and a whole year of yearning was quenched by a blistering kiss. There would be no time for finesse or flirtation, or even much foreplay. Juliet took Cade’s hand to prove she was ready. More than ready. She bucked as he stroked her, impatiently pushing against him. She wanted him inside her.

He broke the kiss. “Let me get a condom. I think I might have one in my wallet. It’s practically an antique.”

Juliet knew his wallet was in his jacket across the room. There were no pockets in his pajama pants, after all. This morning she had pointed the gun at him while he threw some stuff in a paper bag for his impromptu lake vacation. She wasn’t completely deranged. She knew a man needed a change of underwear and a toothbrush for a quality kidnapping experience. But she was not about to let him leave her now.

She shook her head. “No.”

“I—there hasn’t been anybody else since you.”

She could see the question in his face. “Nor for me. I need you, only you, Cade. I need all of you.”

She didn’t have to say more. Her eyes closed to keep her tears in check, she felt him center himself over her, waited for the thrill of his thrust. In moments she was wrapped around him in all ways possible, her hands stroking, her lips seeking. The fire from her center coursed to the surface of her pale skin, tiny silver flames racing along each nerve. She shivered, not with cold but heat so intense she thought she would scorch him where their bodies met. Her desire turned to heedless, mind-numbing need. She would do anything to keep him inside her. Forever.

Or however long they had.

“Julie.”

Her name a prayer upon his lips. She opened her eyes to see him staring down, his face set in blissful agony.

“I can’t—I’m sorry—” He slipped one hand between them again and she joined him as he lost control within her.

This was heaven, although every bit as hot as hell must be. He had collapsed over her, his weight nearly overwhelming. Juliet licked a bead of sweat from the plane of Cade’s cheek. “I love you. But you need to move.”

“I can’t. I’m dead.” He grinned suddenly and kissed her nose. “But if I must.” He rolled to her side in obedience. “You are pink all over.”

“You make me blush, sir.” She smoothed his hair back. “Thank you, Cade, for this evening. And for tomorrow too, even if nothing comes of it.”

“I’m still not clear how I can help.”

Juliet sat up, then modestly pulled up the sheet. “I have been looking for a very long while for a way to get back to normal. Recently, a friend found a spell for me, the one you read yesterday.”

“Sorry. I really didn’t process one word. I was somewhat distracted by…the truth, I guess. Remind me what it says.”

“There’s a bit of a recipe of things to be consumed, and then some words to be spoken. I thought I could go backwards, eat the opposite of the ingredients listed.”

Cade frowned. “That’s why there’s such weird stuff in the grocery box.”

“Yes. And you’re so clever with words. You can write the steps for me.”

“You’re not going to summon Satan, are you?”

“Of course not!” Juliet said, shocked. “I’m not perfectly sure why the spell worked the first time, but Sir Joseph was a God-fearing man, a pillar of our little parish. No matter how desperate he was to, um, prove his manhood, I cannot imagine him resorting to such a strategy.”

“I don’t know. If I couldn’t make love to you anymore, Julie, I just might be desperate enough to do a deal with the Devil.”

“I suppose you expect me to be flattered, but God has ears, you know.” Juliet gave him a stern look.

“And a heart, too, because He brought you back to me.” Cade held her to his own until it was time to prove his own manhood again.

J
uliet stood
at her kitchen counter, her sleeves rolled up, wearing a butcher’s apron and a fingerprint of flour on one cheek. Cade sat at the dining table reading one of Juliet’s oldest magic books. And praying. They had risen before dawn and had crafted what was the first and hopefully the last attempt at amateur sorcery. Juliet’s notes, recently translated from Portuguese, were spread out in neat piles. Marion Kilgariff’s family secret lay front and center. Like a Chinese magic menu, Cade and Juliet had cobbled together a little bit of Column A, a little bit of Column B.

“I wish I’d had a computer,” Cade complained, rubbing his eyes. “I think and write better with one. I hope I can read my writing when the time comes.” He closed the slim volume carefully. It had no specific spells within, but cautioned its reader on the general consequences of unsanctioned magical experimentation.

Apparently he and Juliet should have a coven of naked White Witches in the kitchen with them for backup, chanting away. There was some talk of unexpected outcomes. Like death.

The dogs would have to do.

“From what I can figure out, if this actually works we’ll get some sort of sign. It’s all very vague, though. If I put out a catalogue like this, I’d go out of business. Just exactly where are we going to get a wand?”

Juliet grinned. “Silly boy, I have several in my shop. But I didn’t bring any. You just don’t know where they’ve been or what they’ve been up to. I’ve read the human index finger works just as well.” She waggled hers at him.

“As opposed to the dog index finger,” Cade muttered. Jack looked up at the sound of ‘dog’ but didn’t actually get up. He and Rufus had already gone for a frigid morning swim and they were warming up in front of the woodstove, wet fur stinky.

“Okay. Are we ready? We’ve already blessed the vessel with lake water. You’ve got everything measured?”

Julia nodded. She was using a big crackled brown mixing bowl that had seen its share of duty in its day. Countless women had kneaded bread dough and stirred cake batter in it for more than a century. Juliet said she could almost feel their competent hands at work. The bowl had a kind of country magic on its own, but to enhance it, she had taken it to the water’s edge. Cade was grateful he’d paid attention in Sunday School to come up with the words for their odd little ceremony while the dogs paddled around.

“Add the salt first. It says ‘Let it run slowly through your hands and concentrate on what you want.’ Say the words we decided.”

Juliet put her reading glasses on and looked at the recipe card. “Purify and protect so that the Spirit is powerful,” she whispered. Salt drifted like sand through an hourglass between her fingers. Cade was reminded of the opening of
Days of Our Lives
and had to subdue his amusement.

“Now the flour.”

“Fruit of the earth, nourish the spell with your innocence.” She gently stirred the salt and flour together, her face now intent. As she poured in the water, she said, “Water is the source of all life. Let it carry my desire. Spirit, Earth and Water, hear my heart.” She kneaded the gooey lump, then washed off her hands in the sink.

They were still wet and were shaking when Cade handed her the slip of paper with her heart’s most earnest desire written on it. He steadied her hand while she set a match to her wish in a Pyrex pie plate. When it was ash, she added it to her bowl, then sprinkled the remainder of the spell’s ingredients into the mixture. She dropped it onto a cookie sheet, shaped it into a heart, waved a finger over it and slipped it into the preheated oven.

Her voice rusty. “There. I wonder how it will taste.”

“You’ll find out in fifteen minutes if the oven doesn’t blow up. Now it’s my turn.” Cade bent to kiss her, keeping clear of her gummy fingers.

“You don’t have to, you know. If something goes wrong—”

He kissed her to shut her up. And for other reasons, too many to write down. He already had quite a list on the paper in his hand. She washed up and stood beside him as he read the words aloud in a strong, clear voice. He then swallowed the bitter liquid in the wine glass in front of him, making a face. A bank of gray clouds moved over the lake, shutting out the morning sun. A breeze blew up, scattering the fallen leaves in frenzied spiral swirls. Rufus whined and curled closer to Jack. The timer on the oven dinged.

Julie put on her oven mitts and opened the door. An ambrosial aroma wafted through the room.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” she said doubtfully. Cade knew what was in the misshapen biscuit, after all, and it really shouldn’t smell quite so delicious. She lifted it off the pan with a spatula and put it on a cooling rack. Jack, alerted to food by his very capacious and discerning nose, abandoned his friend by the woodstove and put his face at the lip of the kitchen counter.

“Oh, no you don’t! I haven’t waited all these years for this moment just so a damn dog can outfox me.” Juliet snatched up the hot biscuit and bit into it.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” She crammed the rest of it into her mouth.

Cade looked at her in horror. “My God, Julie! Did you say the words before you ate it?”

Juliet swallowed. “I thought them. A lady doesn’t talk with her mouth full.” She licked a crumb from the corner of her lips. “If for some reason our effort this morning didn’t work, I’ll make a whole batch of these again just to eat them with strawberry jam and a big glass of cold milk.”

Cade put his arm around her and squeezed her tight. “Well, providing we both don’t go back in time, turn into toads or shrivel up or something, what are we going to do today?”

Julie looked at the mess on the counter. “I cooked. You clean up.”