The Witch Is Back (5 page)

“Perhaps there is a park or a place we could sit down and get to know each other better?”

“Well, I’m not sure how great a park would be at night, but there’s one by my house,” I suggested, suddenly worried that Sinjin might think I was extending an invitation to my house simply because the park was so close in proximity. That was the last thing I wanted him to think and I really didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. “I don’t mean that we would … um … go back to my house, if that’s what it sounded like.”

“Poppet,” he said, bringing a finger to his lips in the universal sign of
shut the hell up
. “I understand.”

I managed a cheese-ball smile.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm. I took it and allowed him to escort me to his Ferrari. He opened my door for me and made sure that I was comfortably seated before he got in on the other side. The drive to the park was maybe ten minutes and we spent it making small talk about the horrible movie.

“So tell me about you,” I said as he parked and turned the engine off. He unfastened his seat belt and opened the door, appearing by my side just moments later. He was incredibly quick, so much so that he must have sprinted around the car.

“What would you care to know?” he asked as I took his arm and he beeped the car locked behind me. We started down the cobbled drive that led into the grassy expanse of the park. A lone bench sat at the end of the grass, surrounded by massive eucalyptus trees.

When we reached the park bench, I was about to sit, but Sinjin’s grasp on my upper arm tightened and he shook his head. “It is damp,” he commented. I glanced at the bench and spotted the condensation of the heavy dew. Sinjin wasted no time in removing his black wool jacket and placing it on the bench.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said in surprise, wondering what this man would pull out of his pocket next. He was just so … unpredictable. “I hope the moisture doesn’t ruin your jacket.”

Sinjin smiled and gently pressed my shoulders down to indicate that I should sit. I did. “Material artifacts, love. They hold no value for me.”

Well, he certainly was an enigma, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. He took a seat beside me, very close beside me, I might add. But that was probably owing to the fact that his jacket wasn’t large enough to accommodate both of us along with our personal space.

Getting uncomfortable with the awkward silence, I
tried to remember where our conversation had been headed. “Where in England are you from?” I asked, finding my train of thought.

He glanced down at me and raised his brows as if the answer should be obvious. It was a strange reaction. “London.”

“Is that where you live now?”

“One of the places.”

I felt surprise echo through me. “You live in more than one place?”

“
Live
is a complicated word,” he offered with a smile. “I own homes in various countries, yes.”

Wow, he really had to be loaded. If the Ferrari wasn’t a clue, the fact that he owned homes in more than one country was a pretty good indicator. “May I ask where?”

“Yes, of course you may ask.”

When he made no motion to answer the question, I realized he was making a joke. “Ha ha,” I said with a smile. I boldly gripped his arm and pulled myself into him while he chuckled down at me. He lifted his arm from my grasp and wrapped it around me, folding me into the cocoon of his embrace. It was just as chilly as his hand and lips had been. But this time I knew better and I didn’t say anything.

“London, Paris, and Lucerne.”

“Lucerne?” I asked, trying to remember where that was.

“Switzerland.”

“Ah, yes,” I finished with an embarrassed smile. I’d never been much of a wiz at geography.

“I had fun with you tonight,” I said with a nervous smile, my eyes focused on my fidgeting hands.

“As did I, poppet.” He wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me into him, kissing the top of my head while butterflies began swarming in my stomach. “I find I always enjoy our time together.”

I didn’t say anything, just nodded and smiled up at him, probably looking like a lovesick dog. And before I could even comprehend what was happening, Sinjin bent down and, tightening his hold on me, kissed me. It was a light kiss and his lips were incredibly full, soft. I closed my eyes, feeling my heartbeat ricocheting through me until I started to feel dizzy, which immediately made me worry that this might be a huge mistake. Maybe it was all happening too quickly—I mean, the last thing I wanted to do was lose control.

Jolie, just go with it!
I chided myself.
Just keep your eyes closed and stop thinking!

But when I felt his tongue entering my mouth, something inside me ground its hooves into the dirt. A voice of reason suddenly came through loud and clear over the PA system in my brain, emerging from the swirling mass of my thoughts.

What if this is the lead-in to sex? Are you ready for that?

No, of course I’m not!

And furthermore, how are you going to feel when you’re completely caught up in him and he goes back to Britain or France or freaking Switzerland?

“I … I’m sorry, Sinjin, I can’t do this,” I started as I pulled away from him.

He glanced over at me with a sweet but sad smile. “Why not?”

It wasn’t a question I was expecting, so it sort of threw me for a loop. I mean, wasn’t it obvious? It should have been crystal clear—Sinjin and I were from completely different worlds and things would never work out between us. “Um, because I don’t know where this is going and I don’t know when you’re going to leave.” I didn’t want to sound pathetic or desperate, but I had the feeling that I sounded both.

“Ah,” he said, nodding as if I had a point. I felt my
stomach drop in disappointment and I started to get angry with myself. I’d known this would happen from the get-go. I’d even told Christa that Sinjin was just after me for sex! So why did I feel so disappointed?

Before I had the chance to further lambaste myself, Sinjin turned his intense gaze to me. “As to the question regarding where our friendship is going, I cannot answer that, but would it help to know that I have no intentions of leaving America? Not for a long while at any rate?”

I faced him in surprise, holding back the onslaught of hope that was now pushing doubly hard, hell-bent to get inside. “You’re staying?”

He nodded and glanced down at his shoes for a moment, a boyish twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes. “Do you recall how I told you I was considering opening an American branch of my business?”

“Yes.”

“I have decided to move forward with it.”

At first optimism flooded me, but then it was replaced with doubt. “Yeah, but for how long?”

“It would be quite a long-term move, as it would take years for me to ensure the success of the American branch and making sure it becomes profitable.”

I nodded and, feeling like I’d just made an ass of myself, smiled up at him shyly. “I’m … I’m sorry I freaked out.”

He shook his head, and the expression on his face said that he wasn’t concerned with my freak-out. “I had hoped to ask you for a favor this evening,” Sinjin continued, his left eyebrow elevated.

“A favor?”

He chuckled slightly, probably at the shocked expression on my face. Hey, I hadn’t been expecting such a quick change in topic. “Yes, I was hoping you might be able to help locate a more permanent arrangement for
me since I will be staying here for quite a while. The Four Seasons is becoming a bit … tired.”

“You want me to help you find somewhere to live?” I asked, wishing I didn’t sound so doubtful or so excited.

He chuckled again. “I know it sounds bizarre and perhaps too forward, but I find myself so absorbed with work during the day, I have not had time to put any energy into house hunting.”

I nodded. “Sure, I’d be glad to help you.”

“Thank you, poppet,” he said and ran his long index finger down the side of my face.

“Where would you like me to look? What areas?”

“I will leave that up to you, love. The very best areas and please spare no expense.”

Why did I have the feeling that this was going to be lots of fun?

“Oh, and of course I will compensate you for your time.”

I shook my head. “It would be my pleasure, Sinjin, and I wouldn’t accept anything from you. I mean, of course, I’ll have to do it in my off time, when I’m not with clients.”

“Yes, of course.” He smiled and his teeth glowed white in the moonlight, his incisors looking incredibly … sharp. “And there is one other detail.”

I cocked a brow and frowned up at him, deciding to try my hand at flirting. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“I am quite clueless when it comes to furnishings.”

I shook my head in mock pity and then smiled as I thought about how entertaining this little errand was going to be. “I can help you with that too.”

He smiled again. I’m not sure why, but it somehow appeared to be an expression of victory.

I awoke out of a dead sleep and, glancing over at the clock on my bedside table, realized it was two in the morning. Lying back down, I tried to figure out what had woken me up. Had I heard a sound? Had I been having a bad dream? But I couldn’t remember anything—it was as if my mind were a blank slate.

I closed my eyes and tried to quell the sudden misgivings that rinsed over me. There was nothing to be afraid of. The fact that I was agitated just because I’d woken up for no reason was ridiculous. I was twenty-eight years old, not a three-year-old afraid of the dark.

Jolie
.

I sat bolt-upright and felt my eyes go wide. I’d heard the voice as clear as day. “Who’s there?” I demanded.

There was nothing but quiet and it was suddenly deafening, eerie in its hollowness. It was as if the house were hiding something in its walls, playing with my sanity. My cat shifted from her prostrate position at the end of the bed and stretched in the moonlight, meowing up at me curiously.

“I heard someone say my name, Plum,” I said in response, needing her to believe I wasn’t completely losing my mind, needing someone to believe it because I was seriously doubting my sanity. The cat said nothing, of course, not even a purr, but jumped onto the floor, starting
for the hallway. Her little paws made a soft plodding noise and before I knew it, I was completely alone.

I glanced over at the clock again and realized two minutes had gone by.

I heard something. I know I did
, I told myself, shaking my head in wonder.

Just go back to sleep
, came the indifferent response from that side of myself I mostly didn’t care to hear from.

Where are you?

It was the voice again. Glancing around in the darkness, searching for a corner where someone could be hiding, could be concealed by the night, I suddenly realized that the voice was coming from my head. Granted, I had the habit of talking to myself—usually arguing with myself—but this was different. This was clearly a man’s voice and, what was more, it had an English accent.

WTF?

I will find you, Jolie
, the voice continued.

I wasn’t sure if I should respond, thinking it would seem completely crazy for me to do so. I mean, the fact that there was a random, disembodied voice floating through my head was probably reason enough for most people to commit themselves to the local loony ward.

Can you hear me?
the voice asked.

I didn’t respond, didn’t want to encourage the ravings of my lunatic mind. My heart was now pounding through me and sweat was beading along my forehead.

Jolie? Can you hear me?

I clamped my eyes shut tightly and shook my head, telling myself not to respond. Nope, instead I would just ignore the voice and it would eventually go away and I could get back to sleep.

Just ignore the voice and go back to sleep. It sounded like the perfect prescription.

Jolie?

Maybe the voice wouldn’t quit, wouldn’t give up until
I acknowledged it. And then the hope struck me that maybe in admitting to the existence of the voice, my frazzled mind would be satisfied and give me a break.

Yes! Yes, I can hear you
, I thought the words finally, my tone panicked at the same time that it was anxious.

I’m coming for you soon
, the voice continued.
So please don’t worry
.

You aren’t real
. I thought the words, shaking my head again, as I tried to convince myself there wasn’t a ghost in my room, or in my head. No, I’d just eaten something the night before—something that was bad and was now giving me hallucinations.
You’re just a figment of my imagination
.

The voice didn’t respond right away. It was as if it was thinking, pondering what to say next.

This is ridiculous!
I thought to myself.
The voice can’t think! And moreover, it’s not like it’s someone else’s voice in your head. That’s impossible. It’s your stupid brain making you think it’s someone else’s voice in your head. God, you must be losing your mind!

I’m sorry I upset you
, the voice responded finally.
Of course you don’t remember what’s happened. I don’t know what I was bloody well thinking
.