Bespelled Read online

  After putting the printout of the email into her purse, she turned her attention to getting ready. She’d shower, put on a nice dress, and maybe even some make-up. She needed to look a professional and no-nonsense sort of woman to pull this off. As she rarely went out, she had no power suits, and only a handful of elegant dresses and skirts.

  Elena dressed in a knee-length, wraparound dress that split nicely in the front, giving a glimpse of her thigh. Made of forest green fabric, it had a pattern of leaves along the hem. Her breasts were nicely framed by the crossover design. She had nearly gone for button up to the throat demure, but thought she may as well use all her available assets.

  Around her throat hung a charm that had been with her since childhood—a charm of protection, made in the image of the goddess, carved in wood. It was the kind of charm that parents made for their children, so she assumed it was from her mother.

  She stopped to switch off her computer, when her cat appeared. Her heart leaped into her throat.

  ‘Fel, do you have to do that?’ Hand on her chest, she breathed deeply until her calm returned.

  The cat was a ghost, and telepathic as well as slightly psychopathic. I’m bored, it thought at her with a purr. It blinked its glowing, golden eyes.

  ‘Do it on your own time. I’m heading out. Isn’t there some other witch you can haunt today? I’m kind of busy.’

  The cat licked its ghostly paws. The cat had been black with white-socked feet in life. Now, its body was a greyish shadow and its feet were transparent, so watching it lick non-existent paws was quite disconcerting. The sight of that long tongue licking air got her every time. She shuddered.

  I need entertainment, Fel thought at her, blinking again. She looked pathetic. Then she massaged a pile of paper before settling herself down.

  ‘Find a mouse and terrorise it. I’m heading out.’

  The cat tucked its invisible paws under its greyish mass of chest. A date? Fel managed to express mild interest, in the way cats were interested in anything other than themselves.

  ‘No, business.’

  Looks like a date, Fel purred.

  Elena shut the door, shaking her head. Silly cat, she thought with a smile.

  Chapter 2

  Jake Royston had arrived five minutes early on purpose—to assess his quarry, work on his angle, find her weaknesses and exploit them. Watching from a niche, where the pay telephones used to be, he waited. When she glided through the entrance, a frisson of electricity arrowed through his body. What the hell was that?

  His gaze was riveted to her ginger hair, restrained in a clasp. He’d always been fascinated with that colour. His fingers curled with desire to set the long strands free, to see them fall against the creamy skin of her neck. As she turned, seeking him, her bright, green eyes scanned the room. The smattering of freckles on an otherwise flawless, pale complexion, floored him.

  Heart thudding, his gaze travelled hungrily over her body. He imagined running his hands over her full breasts and the soft curve of her hips. He licked his lips and willed his body to behave. This strong an attraction would be an impediment to doing good business.

  Running his hand over his face, he tried to quell the rise of his blood. Looking back over to where she stood, waiting patiently, he realised he liked her face, too. Her intelligent eyes and solid brow only increased his interest. There was something about her, a quality he couldn’t name, but only feel. He rocked back on his heels, smitten, just like that. Not possible, and yet… A smile crept over his features. The evening was going to be an amazing adventure. He knew it in his bones. He sent Pen a text, asking her to send his apologies to the Lowton’s cocktail party. He had other plans for the evening.

  * * * *

  In the lobby, Elena waited. The foyer had a large clock, which showed that Mr Royston was seven minutes late. She shook her head. Damn him and his tactics. She had been exactly on time.

  At least the restaurant wasn’t too busy, not yet.

  ‘Miss Denholm?’ said a deep, rich voice behind her.

  Elena swung around. ‘Mr Royston?’ Her gaze travelled from his feet to the top of his head. He was tanned, and well built, without being overly showy about it. He had startling blue eyes and nicely curved dark eyebrows. His mouth was generous and his smile, while not quite reaching his eyes, was dazzling.

  If he were a warlock, he’d be in big trouble. He wore a charcoal-coloured suit, bespoke, or maybe Armani. Either way, it was very fine. He exuded control, power and class.

  ‘Yes,’ he said with a nod, before offering his hand for her to shake.

  Elena hadn’t quite pulled herself together. He wasn’t the crusty old man she’d been expecting. Thoroughly wishing that Gracie had warned her, she responded, putting her hand in his. Normally, she wouldn’t have shaken his hand. It was a witch thing, avoiding the skin-to-skin contact, unless you wanted the intensity of it.

  She gasped at the warmth of his skin. There was definitely an attraction there, and a sizzling amount of energy pouring out of him.

  He narrowed his gaze. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ she said with obvious fluster. ‘This is a lovely hotel, isn’t it?’

  He smiled at her, making her stomach do flip-flops. ‘You like old buildings? This is one of my favourites.’

  ‘Yes, I love them. I often go to the Queen Victoria Building, just to look at it.’

  ‘Those Victorians knew how to build, didn’t they? I come here a lot. Shall I show you around before we sit down?’ Elena nodded. This was not what she’d been expecting.

  The conference rooms were empty so Jake took her through them, pointing out the ceiling mouldings, ornate cornices and the long narrow windows. ‘I’d love to own an old house, but I don’t think I ever will,’ Elena said wistfully.

  Jake looked at her and grinned. ‘Me too. I live in an art deco period place. Not quite as old world as this, but it has character. There are a lot of old sandstone buildings in Bridge Street, near my office. I remember walking along that street as a teenager and not noticing how grand they were. Some even had statues in niches looking down. It’s only now I notice them.’

  Elena’s gaze lingered on the moulded ceiling and chandeliers, and then Jake led her to another room. This one had been tastefully renovated, and included a large marble fireplace. She shivered once and sucked in a breath.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, fine. Old buildings like this make we wonder what life was like in those days. I think about the spirits of those who died — whether they still linger.’ She noticed his intense gaze and felt her face heat. ‘Sorry, silly talk really.’

  Jake grinned. ‘Not at all. I’m not one for ghosts normally, but I can tell you, Port Arthur in Tasmania creeped me out.’

  Grateful for his reassurance, she smiled. ‘I’ve not been there myself, but I have heard the tales.’

  They finished the tour of the conference rooms and headed back to the restaurant. Surprisingly, she was relaxed in Jake’s company. She liked his informed description of the hotel building, and the way his eyes lit up when he talked. If only…

  ‘Shall we go in? I reserved a table. Your assistant gave me the contact number,’ she said when they were once again in the foyer. Standing aside, he held out his arm so she could precede him.

  On entering the restaurant, she was having a hard time containing her nervousness. Looking at the rooms had been an ice breaker, and she had warmed to him in a way she hadn’t expected. She was certain he liked her too, but now they had to get down to business.

  Smoothly, he pulled out the chair for her, a courtesy she wasn’t expecting. ‘Thank you.’ He really was catching her off guard. He took a seat opposite her and signalled for the waiter. She was trying to figure out if he was being polite, or dominating to win the negotiation.

  The waiter came over. Jake turned to her. ‘There’s an excellent pinot noir served here. It’s light and refreshing. Would you like to try it?’
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  A smile lit up his face and made his eyes sparkle. His charm was working on her, but in the back of her mind she worried it was only a tactic.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  He ordered a Tasmanian Pinot Noir, and the waiter left to fill the order. Before Elena could launch in on the negotiations, Jake continued to talk about the history of the building, which had been a boutique hotel in Victorian times, and a barracks prior to that. If he was trying to help her relax it wasn’t working. She wanted to keep the details of Grace’s proposal in her head, but the sound of his voice chased it all away.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You qualified to represent Ms Riordon?’

  She’d been leaning forward, and slammed back into her chair. ‘In law? No, I’m Gracie’s cousin. She asked me to negotiate for her.’

  His smile faded, and there was a predatory gleam in his eye. ‘Your cousin has been deliberately holding out to get top dollar. She’s trying to screw my client for every cent.’

  ‘You’re wrong. She is against the development in principle. However, she is willing to sell if you agree to some terms.’

  He leaned his elbows on the table, his gaze tracking over her face. ‘She’s in no position to discuss terms. She should take our overly generous offer and be done with it.’

  ‘She is in a position. You may take her to court, but the judge won’t be happy that you didn’t negotiate, and I think the court would like her offer, too. It’s very reasonable.’ Her voice was calm and controlled. He was intimidating, but she wasn’t going to back down, no matter how handsome his smile or how expert his small talk.

  ‘I’m listening.’ His voice was gruff and his expression neutral, except for his gaze. Those intense blue eyes never left her face.

  Just then, the waiter appeared with the pinot noir in lovely, cut-crystal glasses. Elena couldn’t help frowning at them. She’d been to restaurants a number of times, and had never been served in such special glasses. Her gaze flicked up to assess Jake Royston again. Was he some kind of top-notch client?

  The waiter placed the wine carefully on the table. Elena was distracted by a commotion on the other side of the restaurant. Her gaze began to wander about the room. Something wasn’t right. The vibe was wrong.

  ‘You were saying,’ Jake said as he picked up his glass.

  Her gaze flicked back to him, and she returned to the topic. ‘Grace is concerned about the environment. She is proposing that the development adopt the new voluntary standard for economically sustainable development with recycled water, solar energy and biodegradable sewerage and so on.’

  He took a sip of his wine and lifted an eyebrow. ‘I’m happy to put her proposal to my client, after a thorough analysis, of course. But really, she has left it rather late.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that. Grace finds it…’ Her attention was snagged by a fistfight, two people shoving at each other on the opposite side of the room.

  ‘See someone you know?’ he asked, and then took another tentative sip of the wine.

  ‘No. Bad feeling, I expect. It happens sometimes. Looks like a fight or something.’ She put her fingers on the stem of the glass and rolled it absently, while her mind was occupied.

  Jake took another sip of wine and swallowed. ‘A fight?’ He turned in his chair to take a look before facing her again.

  A savage stab of magic made her gasp and tip over her glass. Distracted by the red stain spreading over the white table cloth, Elena let out an unladylike screech. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not normally so clumsy.’ She cast her glance at Jake. He gazed into her face as if nothing had happened.

  Righting the glass, she used her serviette to stem the flow of liquid. The wine had missed her dress, but not the blood red carpet. ‘At least I didn’t break the glass.’ Her fingertips lingered on the delicate stem. Swinging around, she managed to get the attention of a waiter, who ran to fetch a cloth.

  More noise distracted her. At the service door the altercation continued. It was a waiter, shoving people out of his way. There was something familiar about the back of the head. She gave a mental shrug. Backs of heads? What was she thinking?

  Firm fingers encircled her wrist. With a squeak, she turned back to the table. Jake Royston, top lawyer and all round hot shot, had a hold of her hand. He had rather an intent look in his eyes.

  ‘Mr Royston!’ She tried to snatch her hand out of his grasp, but his grip was firm.

  He stroked the skin of her wrist, a soft, gentle expression on his face. ‘Call me, Jake. You’re lovely. I think I’m in love.’

  Chapter 3

  Elena’s jaw dropped as she looked at her hand captured in his strong grip. Sweeping her surprise away, she let anger at his tactics take over, and her mouth firmed into a straight line.

  She wiggled her fingers, but couldn’t get loose. ‘Mr Royston, about my cousin, Gracie’s plot of land — ‘ She tried to extract her hand again, a quick snatch, but it didn’t work.

  A waiter arrived to clean up the spill so he had to let her go, though his blue gaze was intense and full of sexual promise. Elena’s cheeks radiated heat. She licked her suddenly dry lips.

  With both hands in her lap, Elena thought about what had happened. The stab of magic had definitely been a spell being let loose but she couldn’t see where it had gone.

  Jake Royston’s tactics were putting her on edge. Her thoughts were in complete disarray, as were a number of hormones she had not experienced in a long time. Perhaps he was as attracted to her as she was to him, but to use flirtation to put her off guard was plain wrong.

  ‘A fresh glass of wine, miss?’

  ‘No, thank you. A water, please,’ she said to the waiter. No wine for her, if he was going to play dirty.

  The waiter, a tall, rangy, pimply lad, nodded, and efficiently cleaned up the spill. She had to remember to give him a good tip.

  Jake lunged for her hand again, and she thrust it back into her lap. ‘Really, Mr Royston. I know you’re a top lawyer and all. I know I’m not. That doesn’t make me stupid or gullible. My cousin has an excellent offer.’

  She pulled the email out of her purse and slid it across table. ‘I think you should consider it.’

  She saw him watch her mouth, her lips. It was thoroughly disconcerting. ‘Mr Royston? Are you listening to anything I’m saying?’

  ‘I’m listening to every word. Do you know you have a dimple on one side of your mouth, and your teeth are perfectly shaped?’

  She frowned at him. ‘Really, Mr Royston. Could you please stick to the business at hand?’

  ‘Of course.’ He nodded absently, picked up the email and slid it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. His gaze was centred on her mouth. ‘Those full lips of yours are begging to be kissed.’

  Elena rocked back in her chair. That magic couldn’t have been directed at them, could it? ‘Please tell me you’re having a nervous breakdown or something?’

  He frowned, tilting his head to one side, as if she’d said something odd. ‘No, I feel fine, fantastic even.’ A devastating smile lit his face and plucked at her heart strings.

  Something was definitely wrong. The magic spell? She shook her head. It didn’t make sense. Yes, there were witches and magic, but that didn’t mean random people got zapped by spells for no reason. He sat back, that smile lingering on the corners of his mouth. His eyes burned a path across her skin, which raised the heat levels in the room a few degrees.

  ‘I feel great, actually.’

  The vibe she was getting from him was intense. She knew he wanted to have her. Elena had to sit on her hands to stop from fanning herself. She looked around the room for some inspiration, trying to figure out how this business meeting had turned into a debacle.

  ‘Please let me hold your hand. There’s something I need to tell you.’

  He reached out across the table and placed his hand in the middle, palm up. She stared at it for a few minutes, absently admiring the shape of
his fingers. ‘Why do you need my hand?’

  ‘I want to hold it. Please?’

  Looking from his outstretched hand to his face, she shook her head. ‘That’s intimate. We aren’t intimate.’

  She picked up her glass of water and gave him a small salute to stall for time. Her life had suddenly become complicated. She sent her senses out into the room, looking for the threads of the spell. It was definitely strong around them. She used her talent to feel around the edges, tracing the threads, following along the coils.

  ‘Not yet,’ he said, his voice low and rough as he withdrew his hand.

  Elena’s senses zeroed in on Jake. Shivers shot up her spine. A premonition. They were going to be intimate.

  Again, he put his hand across the table cloth, palm up, and left it there. Grace was not going to believe that her negotiations had gone to hell and back. Giving a shrug and casting reserve to the wind, she placed her hand in his. His fingers latched onto her. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. ‘That feels wonderful. You’re beautiful. Sexy.’

  ‘I am?’ She chewed her lip.

  ‘I want to marry you,’ he said, his voice dropping to a deeper level.

  ‘What? No!’ Her denial was instinctive. She wrenched her hand away to cover her mouth. It was then she smelt it — traces of magic from his hand. That spell had been aimed at them. But for what possible reason? What kind of spell?

  Jake’s face crumpled and he put his head in his hands, rubbing his brow. How low did she feel about hurting his feelings? She shook her head. It wasn’t her fault, so she shouldn’t feel bad for upsetting him. She reached out to sniff his wine — a touch of ginseng, a pinch of cinnamon and a heavy pall of magic. The stained portion of the table cloth was in front of her. She picked it up and inhaled. Her wine had been spelled, too.

  A great whoosh of air came out of her when she sat back against the chair. She was flabbergasted. Someone had played a terrible joke. A love spell, on them? My, that would have been entertaining, to say the least. They probably wouldn’t have made it out of the restaurant before copulating, given there was already some heady sexual attraction between them. She looked over her shoulder. It was a long way to the exit — definitely naked before reaching the lifts.