Magic Gone Wild (29 page)

“Thank you. That’s very nice of you. I appreciate you and Mr. Ertel looking after the place. I’ll handle it now that I’m here.”

“Well, I, that is, we, Mr. Ertel and I, we were wondering if you’re planning to move back in because, you see, we’ve gotten used to our cable television and the money you’ve paid us has helped out with that, and, well, if you’re going to be taking care of things from now on, we’ll just have to find another way to pay for it. I do love those real housewives, you know. Such entertainment.”

Zane had no clue what she was talking about. He couldn’t imagine a show about housewives being all that entertaining, but then he wasn’t Mrs. Ertel. But he realized he hadn’t thought how selling the house would affect her. Her husband had had an accident and was on disability. They obviously counted on the money he paid them.

“I’m not sure what my plans are at the moment, Mrs. Ertel. But don’t worry. This month’s check will still be coming. Next month’s, too.” And at least six more after that. Maybe a year. It wasn’t as if it’d break him. Even playing second string.

“Aren’t you a sweet boy! I told Jack you’d say that.” She patted his arm. “Well, I best be going and let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

Yeah, he wanted to get back to what he’d been doing, too.

“Oh, by the way.” Halfway to the porch steps, she turned back with a finger against her bottom lip, a pose he remembered really well from his days of dodging the gossipmongers.

“Is there a reason, I mean, that is, do you know there’s pink smoke coming from your chimney?”

Zane wanted to congratulate himself for not altering one iota of the smile on his face. “Yes, I am aware of that.”

“Oh.” Her finger curled into her hand and she laughed an insincere, inquisitive laugh. “It’s just that I’ve never seen pink smoke before.”

“It’s a new way of cleaning out a chimney,” he deadpanned.

“Ah.” She nodded, her mouth twitching as if she wanted to disbelieve him but wasn’t sure she should. “Well then, I’ll be going. I hope you and your lady friend enjoy the pie.”

Lady
friend
. A term that could mean a whole host of things, and he wasn’t about to clarify any of them for her. “We will. Thank you, Mrs. Ertel.”

He stood in the doorway, watching her walk all the way down the path and get into her car. The woman was too curious for his own good. He didn’t need her waltzing back in here on the pretext of wanting to ask him something else just to satisfy her curiosity.

He waved good-bye as she drove away and watched her make all three bends in his driveway, then closed the door, set the pie on top of an unusually quiet Henry, and ran up the steps to the bedroom.

“That was June Ertel,” he explained when he walked back in to find Vana by the window. “I’ve been paying her and her husband to look after the house.”

Vana nodded. “I recognized her voice. They come over every Saturday. She stays in the kitchen while he checks the rest of the house. He repaired the window in the attic once when a storm had sent a branch through it. I’d hoped he’d find the box I was in and open it, but that never happened.”

“It must have been lonely in there, huh?”

She shrugged. “Part of the job.”

The job. Genie. Right.

“So, um, how’d your magic work while I was downstairs?”

“I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to risk something happening while she was here.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

They were dancing around the kiss as if it’d never happened. As if it weren’t hanging in the air between them, charging every look, every word, every breath with meaning. But it had, and it was.

And Zane wanted it to happen again.

“So any chance you want to try it now?”

“It?”

Crap. He was never like this around women. Uncertain. Unsure. Especially ones who were as into kissing him as Vana was.

He walked over to her and stopped himself just shy of pulling her into his arms. He was sending her mixed signals again. “Vana, I know last night I said I wasn’t coming on to you.”

She walked around him and picked up a paintbrush. “I know. And you also said no more kissing and no more magic.” She pointed the brush at him. “What’s it going to be, Zane? I’m a genie, not a ping-pong ball.”

He had to smile. He liked women who wouldn’t take shit from him or anyone else. And he really liked Vana.

“I’m an ass, okay?”

“What?”

He’d surprised her. Good. That was always good for a relationship.

Wait. They weren’t having a relationship. A few kisses did not make a relationship. Hell, a few rolls in the sack didn’t make a relationship. He’d been clear about that with every woman he’d slept with. Somehow, though, he had a feeling Vana would be different.

He brushed a hand over his face. “I’m an ass, Vana. You turn me on. I can’t deny it. But this isn’t the right time in my life to explore it.”

She put her fists on her hips. “You were doing more than exploring a few minutes ago.”

He liked that she wasn’t letting him off the hook. Uncomfortable as hell, but he respected it. “I know. And I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry. You’re gorgeous, you turn me on, and if the only way to make your magic work right is to kiss you, I’m man enough admit I’ll do it.”

“Is that supposed to be an apology?”

“Um… yeah?” He pulled out his charming smile.

“Seriously? You’re going to kiss me because I’m here, I’m hot, and you have a convenient excuse? Pardon me while I swoon.”

Okay, so the charming smile didn’t work. He’d go for just charming. “I was paying you a compliment.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really? No wonder you’re still single.”

“Hey, I’m single because I’ve chosen to be single. There are a bunch of women who want to marry me.”

“Good. So go kiss them and get them to fix up your house.”

“I just might.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They glared at each other from opposite sides of the room.

He scrubbed his face again. He needed a shave. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was a lame apology. And I
am
sorry. For the lame apology and for sending you mixed signals and for acting like an ass.” He held out his hand. “Please accept my apology?”

She glanced at his hand, nibbling her bottom lip. Besides fidgeting with her fingers, she also nibbled her lip when she was nervous. And thank God for it. He didn’t like being the only one nervous here.

“All right. Apology accepted.” She put her hand in his. The one with the paintbrush.

That had wet paint in it.

He laughed, glad he had a reason to not tug her the rest of the way into his arms and break the truce. “So, about your magic… Can we start this over? For the good of the house?”

She rolled her eyes and blew out a breath, but there was a hint of a smile beneath it. “The good of the house? Okay, whatever you say.” She tugged her hand back (leaving the paintbrush), puckered up, looked at him one more time, and blew a kiss.

Then the bottom fell out of his world—or rather, out of the bedroom.

29

Vana waved away the plaster and dust, coughing to clear her lungs as she tried to figure out what had gone wrong this time.

“Vana! Are you okay?” Zane moved a chunk of floor—or maybe that was the ceiling of the room below them—off her calf and helped her stand.

She flexed her toes. Nothing broken, thank the stars. “I’m fine. Well, I would be if I could figure out what happened. I swear I was trying to fix everything.” And now she had even more to fix. Gods, what was
wrong
with her? Even the most simple of things…

“Maybe it was too much at once.”

“Come on, Zane. This is pitiful. It’s not like you asked me to repaint the Sistine Chapel.”

Vana clamped a hand over her mouth. Please gods, let her not have just destroyed that masterpiece.

“It’s all right, Vana. We can fix this. The key is not to get discouraged.”

She shoved her hands onto her hips. Leave it to a mortal to lessen the magnitude of an epic fail in magical ability. “Oh it is, is it? Do you
not
see this? Looks pretty discouraging to me.”

“No, it looks pretty powerful to me.”

Way to rub salt in the wound. “Powerfully destructive.”

“So let’s make it
con
structive.”

“Huh?”

“Vana, look at all the power inside of you. Do you see those rafters?” He pointed to the exposed beams that looked like a giant had gnawed through them. “See how thick they are? Your magic has to be really strong to be able to do that. We just have to figure out how to reverse it.”

“But how? And why? That’s what I don’t get. I’ve studied and practiced every chapter in DeeDee’s
Djinnoire
for years. Centuries. I should be able to handle my magic. Do you know I once tried to make alfalfa sprout up during a drought to feed a starving town? Guess what happened. It rained falafel instead. Tiny balls of chickpeas bouncing around like manna from heaven. Luckily, that’s what they all thought it was, but come on—falafel?
Falafel
? I just don’t get it. I should be able to fix the paint and the floor and everything else without you having to kiss me. And now I can’t manage to do it even when you do.”

“But Vana, you
did
do it right.”

She didn’t bother responding. What was with Mr. Sunshine all of a sudden?

He raised her hand and intertwined their fingers, palm to palm. “You did, Vana. I asked if we could start over and then you blew that kiss. You were starting this—the room—over. From its beginning.” He pointed at the rafters. “Just as I’d asked.”

“What are you? A Dr. Phil wannabe? Mr. Life Coach?” He could take his brand of happy and peddle it elsewhere. She’d lived through this ignominy for centuries.

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Think about it.”

Drat. She couldn’t argue with someone who didn’t want to argue. “You’re stretching it.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“And that is?”

He tugged on her hand.

She stumbled into him and, just like that, found herself where she really wanted to be.

“I’ll kiss you again,” he said, saying the words she really wanted to hear. “We’ll make it right.”

She really wished they could.

This kiss was tender. Soft. Gentle. Every bit as pervasive as the other one, and this time, the magic swirled through her again, bubbling up from the depths of her soul and spreading to every part of her. She opened her eyes to see if it was shining from her pores, so bright did it make her feel, but all she saw was Zane watching her.

The kiss turned erotic in an instant.

But an instant was all she allowed it to last.

She wrenched herself away and kissed the air, wishing to make everything right.

In the next instant they were back in the bedroom on the third floor with the floor beneath them—

Holy smokes, they were in bed.

Together.

“What the hell?” Zane jumped out of the bed. Thank the gods he was fully clothed. But his shorts did nothing to hide the effect their kiss had had on him. “
What
did you wish for?”

Vana scrambled out of the other side, flinging sheets—oh gods, pink satin ones!—and pillows off. One hit him in the chest. “Not this! I wasn’t thinking about this!”

“You weren’t?” He sounded disappointed and hugged the pillow to him. “Wow. Talk about opposite sides. That was definitely what I was thinking about.”

“You were?”

“Uh.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I told you I was an ass.”

She threw the other pillow at him. “You are.”

“At least I’m an honest ass.” He tossed a pillow back at her.

“What?”

“Admit it. You
were
thinking about this.” He waved a hand over the bed. “I dare you to say otherwise.”

Vana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Okay. I was thinking about it. But I wasn’t wishing it. That’s the truth.”

“
Could
you wish it?”

“What? Do you mean could I wish you into mak—going to bed with me?” Now there was an interesting question. If he were really her master, then no, she couldn’t because genies couldn’t do anything to their masters without their express wish. But he wasn’t her master, so theoretically, it should be possible. Whether it was ethical was another story. But then, she’d pretty much rewritten the ethics about sleeping with mortal non-masters, hadn’t she? “You’re saying that’s the only way you would?”

Cocky gave way to flirty. And sexy. He leaned a hand against the footboard and cocked his hip. “Hell, no.” Then he got serious. “But it might get complicated.”