Sensual Spell (4 page)

Heart glared up at the ceiling and counted to ten. Who'd ever thought of such a ludicrous way of controlling anger, anyway?

"Okay, Ella. I warned you. One flat chest coming up."

Noelle led the way back to poor old Uncle Ed's bedroom with her knees knocking together. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now, but she knew the man behind her, the Hercules-looking male, expected magic to raise the dead. Sweat beaded her forehead as she pushed open the door. She should have just kept kissing him. Maybe that would have made him forget all about his dearly departed uncle.

It had sure made her forget where she was. The feel of his hard body pressed so closely to hers had created a fire in the pit of her stomach and a wealth of moisture between her thighs.

And in that exact moment, when she'd felt the ridge of his cock bumping against her hip, she'd decided that Jacob Sanders would be the first mortal she'd sleep with. The thought should have stunned her, but instead, it had swept through her like an intense flame, warming her from head to toe.

Now that she'd made her decision, she was eager to get this resurrecting business out of the way. Then, of course, she'd have to make Jacob aware of her intentions, but she doubted he'd refuse. He didn't look like the playboy type—or maybe he did. Ella would know, but Noelle knew very little about the ways of mortals. Either way, though, she was sure she could convince Jacob to spend one night with her, alone.

Her lips curled into a smile while the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. And what a night it would be. Vivid images of silken sheets, sweaty bodies, and chocolate-covered cherries skated through her mind along with whipped cream. Couldn't forget the whipped cream.

Jacob tapped his foot against the carpeted floor. “Hello? Are you meditating, or what?"

Her teeth snapped together. The only thing that helped her temper was the calming reminder that no matter how much he pissed her off, she still intended to fuck him. And maybe not just for one night.

"Okay.” Noelle raked her palms down the front of the sheet still protecting her nudity from his gaze. Not that she'd seen Jacob Sanders looking at her with any emotion other than disgust, but a witch could always hope a man would notice her rather than her having to bind him with a spell.

She did, of course, understand why Jacob might not be paying such rapt attention to her. He thought she'd slept with his uncle. Her nose wrinkled. She prayed she hadn't. Surely, she hadn't. The mere thought made her shudder. And wouldn't she know? A woman just knew, didn't she?

"What am I supposed to be doing?” His deep voice made her jump.

She looked over her shoulder. When had he moved so close to her? She could see the taut lines edging his mouth and the sparks shooting from his dark eyes. And she couldn't help but notice the thickness of his lashes. The man was beautiful. There were no other words to describe him. Sheer beauty. He probably wouldn't appreciate the adjective, but no other man who'd ever crossed her path had earned the label.

"Could you stop staring at me and get on with whatever abracadabra stuff you're going to do?” His feet shifted, as if he was uncomfortable, drawing attention to the tight bulge between his thighs.

Noelle's gaze flicked to his crotch. Impressive. And hard. A smug smile pulled at her lips. Okay, so maybe he had noticed her.

Jacob waved a hand back and forth in front of her face. Then he waved a hand back and forth in front of the zipper of his jeans. “Hello again? How about keeping your eyes above my belt buckle?"

Heat flooded her face, and she quickly obeyed. “Well, could you move back a little? You're making me nervous."

"Think how you're going to feel inside the jail cell."

Noelle cursed, drew in a deep breath, and vainly tried to recall the spell, any spell, which would get her out of this predicament.

Nothing. Her mind was an empty slate. And when she looked over her shoulder again, she saw that Jacob Sanders had gone from mad to furious.

She knew then that was her exit cue, but before the words would form in her brain, the bedroom door flew open, and two uniformed police officers stood facing them with guns drawn.

Jacob stepped forward without any fear in his eyes. Even as a witch, Noelle had to admit the guns made her nervous. She'd been told she was immortal, but, well, knowing the way her life went, she'd probably be the one witch who wasn't

"Officers, I'm Jacob Sanders, and this woman says her name is Noelle Bridges."

Says?
Noelle frowned. She didn't like the tone of his voice. “My name
is
Noelle Bridges."

"And,” Jacob stressed the word, “she's the woman I told you about—the one I found in bed with my uncle."

"Actually—” Noelle shot him a dirty look. “—he didn't find me in bed with his deceased uncle. He found me standing in the room with his dead uncle.” She held up one finger. “There's a big difference."

The cops exchanged glances before the bigger, paunchy one jerked his chin towards Noelle. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back."

They're arresting me?
Noelle had never even considered that possibility, but she already knew she wasn't going to allow these two men with shiny badges to take her anywhere.

She simply just wouldn't go.

"Are you listening to us, ma'am? Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” The same officer spoke with a sterner tone, using both hands to steady his weapon.

Okay, she was growing irritated now. “There's no need to speak to me so rudely.” She clamped her hands on her hips and shot a dirty look towards Jacob. “You really had to call them, didn't you? Do I look like a woman who could kill a man? Because if that's what you're thinking, you don't know me at all."

Jacob stared at her for a long second. “Lady, I don't know you at all."

"And whose fault is that?” she responded snippily.

"Ma'am, if you don't turn around and put your hands behind your back, we're going to have to use force."

Noelle's brow knitted. “I don't think so.” With a wave of her hand, she silenced the police officers, freezing them where they stood.

"What the hell?” Jacob's gaze whipped from the frozen men to Noelle's face before he started backing away from her. “Okay, look. I don't know what in the hell you are, but—"

"Yes, you do,” she interrupted. “I already told you I was a witch. Now, I'll be on my way. When I leave, these men will come to life again. Of course, they might suspect you helped me to escape.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “I suppose you wouldn't like that."

His eyes narrowed, and he took a warning step towards her. “I don't respond well to threats, Ms. Bridges."

"And I don't respond well to being handcuffed. I'm not going to jail for killing your uncle, when I didn't kill him."

A muscle ticked in Jacob's jaw. “Get those cops out of here."

"And then what?"

He blew out a breath. “I don't know, but we'll have to figure something out."

"We? As in, we're now a team?"

He glared at her. “Hell, no. Just get them out of here and...” He stopped talking. “Where did they go?"

"You told me to get them out of here.” Noelle folded her arms over her chest. She was enjoying herself immensely. The look on Jacob Sanders's face was priceless. “Didn't you?"

"Okay, that's it. I've had just about enough of you.” Jacob moved forward as if to grab her.

This time, Noelle made her getaway.

[Back to Table of Contents]

He couldn't believe the little vixen had simply disappeared. Gone. Just like that. Jacob poured himself another shot of whiskey and tossed back the contents seconds before his two maiden aunts came barrelling into the living room to weep and wail.

Jesus. This was going to be a long day. He shouldn't have called them, but there was certainly no bringing Uncle Ed back to life, especially since the witch had failed. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he couldn't even believe he was thinking Noelle had actually tried to raise his deceased uncle. It was impossible. But then, so was a woman disappearing before his eyes.

He massaged his temples and escorted the two spinsters towards the table of food while keeping one eye on his twin nephews, who were currently organising a food fight.

"Becca, could you please control your kids?” Jacob called out to his sister.

Becca sailed forward, the picture of grace and perfection. “Knock it off, guys. Jacob, the cops are here to see you."

He checked his watch. Four hours had passed. Maybe they'd just woken up from Noelle's spell or whatever the hell it was. “It's about damned time.” He made it sound like this was the first time he'd heard anything from the police.

Striding towards the door, he heard his aunts’ continued weeping, urging him to step out onto the front porch and tug the door shut behind him.

A stiff breeze lifted his tie and sent it flapping. He held it against his starched white shirt while the same police officers he'd seen earlier introduced themselves.

"We received your call about your uncle's death.” The chubby cop checked a small notepad. “You indicated a woman was with him."

Jacob looked from one uniformed officer to the other. They didn't even remember they'd been there! Jesus. Either he was going nuts, or Noelle Bridges really was a witch.

"Uh ... Mr. Sanders?"

Clearing his throat, Jacob nodded. “That's right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes.”
Sexy as hell
. He kept that part to himself.

"And is she still here?"

"No. She just disappeared."

The officers exchanged glances. “Disappeared? You mean, you left the room and came back to find her gone?"

Jacob latched on to the plausible excuse. “Yeah. That's what I meant."

"Do you know who she is or how we can get in touch with her?"

He wished. The thought made him flush. “No, I don't. I'd never seen her before."

"We're going to need to seal the bedroom until the medical examiner determines the exact cause of death.” One of the cops took a step forward, but Jacob blocked his path.

"Can't this wait? The coroner just left, and my aunts are taking this hard."

The men didn't look pleased. “That's against protocol, Mr. Sanders. If the bedroom is a crime scene, we need to preserve the evidence. Until the coroner says it's not a murder, we gotta treat it like one. Homicide will have our asses on a platter if we don't follow the rules.” Jacob held up one hand, preparing to do what he did best. Negotiate. It's what had made him a very rich man before he'd turned thirty. “Look, I can promise you no one will go into the bedroom. In fact, my family and I will be leaving for the funeral home in a few minutes. As soon as we leave, you can have carte blanche to do what you need to do."

The officers shifted, but finally relented. “Well, okay, as long as no one goes into the bedroom. We'll give you an hour, and then we have to follow procedure."

"I understand, and I'll make sure everyone knows the bedroom is off limits.” Jacob figured that shouldn't be a problem. He bade the cops goodbye and turned to the task of ushering his sobbing aunts, rowdy nieces and nephews, and the rest of his family out the door

There were myriad hugs and wet kisses and comments about how good Uncle Ed had been before Jacob finally managed to convince everyone he would meet them at the funeral home later that day to help with the arrangements.

Then Aunt Rita led the pack down the driveway, her floppy black hat waving in the breeze while her wails caused every dog in the neighbourhood to start barking.

Jacob leaned his head against the closed door for one second before straightening, rolling the knots out of his shoulders, and heading down the hallway to secure his uncle's bedroom door. As his hand turned the doorknob, he heard the soft rustle of movement inside.

He froze. No one should be in the room. Unless...

Pushing open the door, he heard the gasp of surprise and saw the startled blue eyes once more. He stared. He didn't quite know what else to do.

Noelle's shoulders drooped. Perfect. Could this day get any worse? She'd spent the last few hours trying to recall a way, any way, to summon her aunts, even her cousin, to no avail. Figuring she might be able to find a clue back inside the bedroom, she'd returned to Uncle Ed's house.

Her plan had been not to get caught. Apparently, Lady Luck just wasn't in a smiling mood today.

"Mr. Sanders. I imagine you never expected to see me again."

Jacob came into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. “How in the hell did you get back in here?” Noelle caught the scent of expensive cologne, and she practically sighed with pleasure.

"I just asked you a question.” He snapped her out of her longing.

"You can ask me that after the way I left?” She saw his eyes frost and cursed below her breath. The last thing she needed to do now was antagonise him.

"I just had to tell my family about Uncle Ed's death, talk to the police, and deal with my Aunt Rita's fucking hysterics, and you're in the middle of my uncle's bedroom, standing like you belong here,” he ground out through clenched teeth. The tightness of his jaw combined with the tension of his muscles, and Noelle couldn't help but appreciate every nuance of his male beauty. She was sure he wouldn't want to know where her mind was at the present moment, though.

She tugged the hem of her T-shirt lower over her stomach. She'd been thankful her magic was still good enough to help her procure clothes, but she just wasn't comfortable in Earth's clothing as much as she was in the robes of her home. “Don't expect me to hang around and talk to them again. Next time, I might not be so polite as to return them to their station house."

"Christ, woman. Who the hell are you? What the hell are you?"

She thrust her chin back to see his face. Still beautiful. Damn. She'd hoped her morning attraction to him had been a fluke. Nope. Her hormones were still singing opera. “I've already told you what I am. You didn't want to listen."

"You couldn't resurrect my uncle,” he pointed out with maddening precision.