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  Bespelled

  Dani Kristoff

  Bespelled

  Dani Kristoff

  This isn’t your mum’s Bewitched…

  Elena Denholm is a mild-mannered half witch. As a favour to her cousin, she agrees to meet with top Sydney lawyer, Jake Royston, to negotiate a property deal. Sparks fly immediately, but before they can even take a sip of wine, let alone explore where the sizzle might go, Jake is hit by a love spell and is helpless against his feelings for Elena.

  Jake may be at her mercy, but Elena is keeping her hands off — exploiting humans is a no-no. But Jake’s good looks and powers of persuasion are breaking down her resolve, and Elena knows she must do something fast.

  Desperate to set things right before her resolve crumbles, Elena begins a frantic search to find the witch or warlock who hexed Jake and return him to his right mind, even if it means breaking her own heart…

  About the Author

  Dani Kristoff lives in Canberra, Australia. She has been writing for more than ten years now, and has always thought writing paranormal romance would be cool. She’s a fan of science fiction, fantasy and horror, all with a bit of romance. Bespelled is her first paranormal romance novel.

  With a flare for decorating cakes and making costumes, particularly those with a bustle, she dreams of a craft room that’s all her own. She shares her house with her partner and her cat, and visiting children and grandchildren.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank Romance Writers of Australia for inspiring me to write this romance. The idea came to me at the end of the August 2012 conference and was so hot in my mind that I wrote the outline on the way home from Brisbane. I wrote on the train, in the airline lounge, and on the plane. Romance Writers of Australia provides a fabulous annual convention with excellent professional development for writers. Those guys rock.

  Also, I’d like to thank my friend Elizabeth Dunk, for her amazing and useful critique. Kate Cuthbert, my editor, is an awesome woman. Bespelled wouldn’t be published without her patience and her support. Thanks, Kate, for your faith in me.

  To my wonderful partner, Matthew, I want to say thank you for your love and writing conversations.

  Last, but not least, a big thank you to the gang at the Canberra Speculative Fiction Guild for being there, and offering great support for writers.

  To the magic of love

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  Chapter 1

  Sydney Harbour filled Jake Royston’s line of sight as he gazed out the 35th floor window of the AMP building near Circular Quay. The 180-degree view showed a cruise ship at berth near The Rocks, and ferries making their way out of the quay to Manly and further afield. A forty-foot yacht, its prow cutting deep, made its way toward the heads. The boat passed out of sight, its passage cut off by the white sails of the Opera House.

  For a moment, Jake wished he was out there lapping up the sun and sea, but he let the thought float away. He had more important things to do.

  ‘Yes, I got that,” he said into the phone, making a note in the file in front of him. ‘My assistant will get back to you shortly.’ He listened, as his client pressed him. ‘She’ll confirm a meeting time today.’ He cut off the connection and buzzed through to his executive assistant. ‘Pen, set up a meeting tomorrow with the Stanton Brothers. They’re getting cold feet. I need to seal the deal before it sours.’

  ‘You have space on Monday. Is that soon enough?’

  Jake buried his forehead in his hands. ‘You can’t fit them in?’

  ‘Only if I reschedule someone else. Saturday is getting pretty full.’

  Jake switched the screen over to his schedule. The Stanton brothers might be getting twitchy, but their case was not as urgent as some of the others. ‘Jake?’

  ‘Okay. It’ll have to do.’ Jake’s finger aimed for the intercom cut-off button.

  ‘Before you go, you asked me to remind you about cocktails this evening — the Lowton’s product launch.’

  Jake sighed. ‘Thanks for the reminder. I forgot all about it.’

  ‘Do you want me to confirm Krista as your date?’

  Jake sat back and rubbed his chin. Krista was blonde, voluptuous and a long-legged beauty. Her mind was on one thing: landing a husband with lots of money. ‘Sure. Tell her I said to wear red.’

  He cut off the intercom and grinned. She’d wear black to show she was an independent woman. No way was he was falling for her lures, though. His heart was armoured up, good and proper.

  Love had done nothing for his father. Three unlucky marriages, all in the name of love, and all the old man had now was a third of his fortune and a small flat in Mosman.

  Luckily, Jake always had a good supply of admirers so he never went without sex, and was never denied when he had to ask instead of having it dished up to him. That was the life for him — all pleasure, and no commitment. At 32, he had done everything he’d set out to achieve, and he’d managed to keep his body in good shape while studying the long hours it took to get his degree. He had a certain charm that had helped him along in his career. It had to be charm rather than luck, given some of the deals he’d managed to pull off. He was good at persuading people. It was as natural for him as breathing.

  He flicked through his account file listing, and frowned at an old case. He gritted his teeth and buzzed through to Pen.

  ‘Have we heard from Grace Riordon yet?’ That particular party had been grating on his nerves for some time.

  ‘An email arrived from her about ten minutes ago. It’s in your inbox.’

  Jake chewed his bottom lip as he read the message, raising his eyebrow. ‘Now she wants to talk?’ he muttered. Sending a representative…a cousin…can speak for her. Excellent. It was about time.

  Jake reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the account file. Last piece of land before the development can proceed… Two years negotiating with the Riordon party. He read the email again. Looks like the cousin was going to contact him today. He’d chew her up and spit her out. Some accounts get stuck in one’s craw, and this Riordon business had pushed him too far. The deal should have been finalised 18 months ago. It was costing his client. Jake would get paid either way, but the delay made him look bad.

  Pen walked in, coffee in one hand, and the newspaper in the other. She was short, dark haired, had a cute button nose, and freckles smattered under her big blue eyes. They’d known each other since university, but had only ever been friends. That relationship suited him fine, because she took everything he dished out and there were no love complications.

  ‘Here you go, boss. You didn’t pick up your paper and I think you need this.’ She handed over the espresso. The aroma teased his nostrils. He scowled. He didn’t want her to think he’d gone soft. Taking a long draw of the coffee, he knew straight away Pen had gone to Bella Café, where the espresso was always fine.

  ‘You read my mind,’ he said gruffly, and took another sip. ‘About the cocktail party. What’s the latest we can hold off confirming attendance?’

  Pen threw her dark ponytail over her shoulder. ‘I’m not sure, but I’ll find o
ut. You could say you’re sick, or that you hurt your back doing weights.’ She looked him up and down. ‘You’re way too buff to be legal.’

  ‘It’s too early in the morning for cheek.’ He took another sip of coffee and closed his eyes. ‘Back to this evening — ’

  ‘You want me to cancel the date with Krista.’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, looking at her askance. The way she read him was unnerving. ‘You can substitute for her if I’m desperate.’

  Pen laughed as she walked away. ‘Sorry, I have a hot date, so no deal.’ She closed the door and then poked her head back in the room. ‘Shall I send Krista flowers by way of apology?’

  ‘What for? We’re not exclusive. She’ll get another date. Don’t you worry.’

  Pen’s dark eyebrows drew down. ‘I gave up worrying about you a long time ago, Heart-of-Stone Jake Royston. A dart from Cupid’s arrow would bounce off your steel-coated heart and shatter.’

  Jake chuckled, amused by Pen’s needling. What was it with assistants these days? They want to be your therapist and organise your life. Sheez. ‘If you hear from…’ He checked the email. ‘…Elena Denholm, agree to whatever she suggests regarding a meeting. Make sure she meets with me today. I want this deal sealed.’

  ‘It will have to be after five. You’re meeting Mrs Coulston at four thirty. Her case is pending, so she can’t be put off.’

  He nodded, checking his computer for the Coulston file. Pen shut the door, leaving Jake to sip coffee and lose himself in case notes.

  * * * *

  Elena Denholm finished the plait on her herb charm, yanking it tight to remove a kink. She admired her handiwork; lovely fresh raffia braided together with dried flowers, herbs, colourful ribbon and magic-infused trinkets. Her magic was gentle, light and beneficial. She reached up, standing on tiptoes to secure the final ribbon, in which she placed a spell that would exude calmness and contentment — the perfect precondition for a healthy life.

  As she stood back, she lifted her gaze to the chin-up bar she used when preparing her charms and nodded to herself. The old gym equipment she’d bought in a garage sale had proved useful for making the long, graceful charms.

  Her human customers didn’t really question why her charms made them feel good. Some of her most committed customers were other members of the folk, witches, warlocks and fairies, who could make their own. That didn’t stop them from buying her charms for themselves, their families and friends.

  With the final batch ready for the markets, she packed them ready for sale. She sighed as she placed the last charm into the display basket.

  Elena was a half-witch. Her mother had never spilled the beans to her relatives on who her father was. Aunt Elvira always said he was a human and her cousin, Grace, who she had lived with since she was thirteen, had made up an amazing array of fanciful tales about who her father was and what he did. She had theories that he was an airline pilot, a prince, a football star, the president — you name it, Grace had made a story up about it. All the stories had been hilarious and involved very convoluted scenarios that usually sent the listener into breathless laughing fits. Elena smiled at the remembrance. All the laughing they did had helped her cope with not knowing her parents, and made her love her adopted family deeply.

  A smile lit up her face. Those teenage years with Grace and Aunt Elvira had been happy. It was how she had been brought into the coven and learnt of her witch heritage. Aunt Elvira hadn’t been too pleased with her mother for birthing Elena away from the coven, hiding her from her extended family, and having her to a human father. Elena didn’t remember her mother at all.

  Her phone rang, clanging into her thoughts. It was Grace. No magical power was needed to tell that. Her phone was programmed with that ringtone whenever Grace called.

  ‘Hello, Gracie,’ she said, airily.

  ‘Elena, er…hi.’

  ‘What is it? Trouble? Declan?’

  Declan Mallory was Grace’s gorgeous partner. He’d recently bought a Harley, and both Grace and Elena fretted that he’d have an accident.

  ‘No, Declan’s fine. He’s visiting his folks up in the Blue Mountains.’

  Luckily for Grace, Declan was not only stunningly handsome but a warlock, too. No intermingling issues there. And they’d known each other since childhood. Too bad good warlocks were hard to find in their coven. The pickings were very slim, as Elena had found, to her own disappointment. The sandbox was not big enough to make mistakes in, either.

  ‘I need a favour. You know that development I was telling you about last week?’

  Elena nodded and suppressed a groan. Grace didn’t like the real world — well, the human one. She couldn’t and wouldn’t deal with it. Whereas Elena could as she had lived with humans before coming to live with her aunt, within the coven. Dealing with them was as natural to her as casting a spell or weaving a charm.

  Elena nodded her head absently. ‘Go on.’

  ‘The development company are requesting that I negotiate before they get a court order to force the sale. It appears my block is the only one stopping the development.’

  ‘I thought you weren’t going to back down.’

  ‘I wasn’t, but the other three landholders who were holding out gave in. Mama says I should drive a hard bargain. I don’t really want to lose the land, but if I have to then they should give me a good price. Abide by certain conditions.’

  With the phone to her ear, Elena paced the room. I should wash that dirty coffee cup in the sink. ‘So what can I do, if you have made up your mind?’

  ‘I haven’t made up my mind. But I have given you permission to negotiate for me. Please say you will.’

  Elena let out a big sigh. ‘Really, do I have to?’ She wandered to the window and peered through the curtains. It was a lovely day outside, and the gerberas in her garden were a very bright pink.

  ‘You have to meet with their attorney.’

  Elena dropped the curtain and her smile. ‘What?’

  ‘Some big shot named Jake Royston.’

  ‘But I haven’t got experience negotiating with attorneys, big shots or no.’

  ‘I’ve sent you an email with my negotiating position and his contact details.’

  ‘But, Gracie…I have to prepare for the markets.’

  Gracie giggled. ‘No, you don’t. Mama has already picked your charms up. We’ll handle the stall for you.

  ‘Make sure Royston agrees to my conditions. I don’t want their pollution making the neighbourhood rank.’

  She stuck her head in the guest room. There was nothing there but the spare bed and the chrome chin-up bar. ‘You’ve outwitted me again.’

  ‘Before you go…’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, though with less enthusiasm. If Aunt Elvira was there with Grace then she knew what was coming. Family pressure, and all that.

  ‘Have you thought of dating Drew again? Giving him another chance?’

  ‘No.’ Penderton — what a disaster that had been. No chemistry, and he was downright surly. ‘I believe he doesn’t want to see me again, either.’

  ‘Come on, I know the date was a bit of a disaster but…’

  ‘No, Gracie. No. We rub each other the wrong way. His ideas are totally alien to me about everything: magic, women and humans. No deal.’

  ‘But you know his father is real keen.’

  ‘I’m not dating his father, either. There are other witches that will suit him, I’m sure.’

  ‘Elena…’

  ‘Gee, look at the time. I have to go. Love you. Bye.’

  Elena flopped down on the sofa. What a close call. She’d been on one date to satisfy them all, and it had been the one date to end them all. She shivered at the memory. It wasn’t that he’d done anything bad. It was a vibe thing. Well the vibe, the way he looked, moved, gestured and spoke. When they went on that date, she’d almost been physically ill when he’d tried to kiss her. Not that she admitted that to her family, or anyone in the coven.

  She’d rat
her be single than take Drew Penderton for a spouse, and no amount of cajoling or convincing was going to change her mind. If there was a folk-specific sperm bank, she’d queue up when the time was right.

  Managing a child on her own couldn’t be that hard. Maybe that would get them off her back. It wasn’t like the coven was concerned for her happiness. It was the vacant womb and the declining folk population that concerned them. They needed more witches and warlocks to keep the balance within the folk, and to not disappear completely into the human population.

  Even with that pressure, there was no way was she going to settle for a relationship that, well, wasn’t a relationship, but an arrangement. She wanted more: love, companionship and passion.

  She opened her email and found all the information she needed from Grace. A quick look at the time and, with luck, she could get Jake Royston out of her hair before the end of the day. Life would resume its normality and she’d be free to work her stall in the morning.

  The Friday ferry timetable was in her favour. She could catch the Balmain ferry to Circular Quay with plenty of time to spare.

  It took a bit of negotiating when she called Royston’s, but she managed to secure an appointment for early evening and readily agreed to the suggestion of the Hotel Vive his executive assistant made.

  Meeting on neutral territory should work in her favour. He’d probably ride roughshod all over her, and steer his corporate lawyer mojo through her negotiating position. However she wasn’t going to give in easily.

  After rereading Grace’s email, she thought maybe he would take her seriously. Grace’s proposal was a very good deal all round. Her cousin might not like dealing with the real world, but she certainly had the chops for it. Jake Royston would be an idiot for not going for it.

  It was up to Elena to cinch the deal tight. No magic was to be involved, though. That would be unethical. The folk had to live with humans by not taking advantage of them. The use of magic was tightly regulated. Even her charms were only certified for sale to humans after approval by the coven.