business partner stole everything and left the country—forcing his
parents to move to the back of beyond. And they’d still tried to control Sid
right up until the end. Why was she thinking about him now?
Another rap at the door and she shook her head and let Gage in.
How could such an aggravating man be so attractive? His blue
eyes sparkled, and a single lock of hair fell over his forehead when he ducked
to enter her miniscule foyer. She’d realized he was tall, but he must be at
least six-five.
“Ready to go? We’re running late.” As he spoke, he moved
into her living room, no doubt surprised she lived in a Venice cottage and not
a haunted shack. “I have the car double parked outside, no spaces anywhere in
the neighborhood.”
Coral took in his charcoal sports jacket and slacks,
perfectly tailored, and was even gladder she’d put effort into her appearance. “I
should have just ridden my broom.”
He spun to face her, his expression registering shock. Okay,
maybe a cheap shot. Gage couldn’t have a clue what it meant to be a witch. If
she offered him a shiny red apple, he’d figure it was poisoned. “We’d better
get going if we’re going to be there when our loving couple arrives.” To his
credit, he made no comment about the décor. His home would be a high-rise
condo, professionally decorated and cleaned twice a week by a pair of uniformed
strangers.
Her home was tidied occasionally by her. She couldn’t have
it too dusty if she didn’t want her fancy clients to decide she was too much of
a slob to visit in their designer ensembles. But nothing matched, her furniture
all picked up a piece at a time from flea markets and thrift stores.
“Sure. I’m ready.” She retrieved a delicate shawl and her
purse from a hook on the wall.
“Who have we here?”
She turned back to find her familiar sitting on the floor,
staring up at her guest, tail twitching. “Kansas, what are you doing?”
“Kansas?” His voice held amusement.
“Umm, yes. My cat.”
To her shock, he stooped and gathered the fifteen-pound
feline in his arms. Standing, he held her, stroking her ears, while the traitor
purred and rubbed against his hand. “She’s something.”
“She is that.”
“Friendly little thing, aren’t you?”
“Not usually.” She fought the urge to grab the cat back.
Kansas hated to be carried. She followed Coral around when it suited her, and
lay on a shelf in the bookcase when clients came, so still a few had commented
on the cat statue. But nobody picked her up. Not even her mistress. “I’m
ready.” And put my cat down.
But she didn’t want to start an argument. Three dates and a
report back. She had a single goal—keep her word and not have to see the doctor
again. The smug, Pied Piper of cats.
Why did he have to be so attractive? Lucky he was taken with
his “ten” girlfriend. Coral didn’t agree that people had to be alike in every
way, but she and Gage were night and day.
* * * *
Coral was stunning. In her own environment, she glowed. An
old, scraped up surfboard was mounted on the wall, and seashells were piled in
bowls and scattered on tables. Books with titles in odd symbols he couldn’t
read shared shelf-space with brass statues of obscure gods and goddesses. Was
she a witch and a beach bunny?
Her hair fell to the middle of her back in a gleaming sheet,
and her outfit was nothing less than pagan. Her green eyes slanted a little,
like her cat’s, and the low light emphasized the subtle richness of her tan.
For a moment, he’d forgotten he wasn’t her date. He was her
nemesis. They had nothing in common. Probably zero factors. And she believed he
still had a girlfriend. A wall he would keep in place to protect him from the
urge to pet the woman instead of the cat.
Coral frowned at him, and he set the animal on the floor and
headed outside. Time to go.
They arrived at the car, and he opened her door, a gallantry
he rarely accomplished. The women he’d dated either
parents to move to the back of beyond. And they’d still tried to control Sid
right up until the end. Why was she thinking about him now?
Another rap at the door and she shook her head and let Gage in.
How could such an aggravating man be so attractive? His blue
eyes sparkled, and a single lock of hair fell over his forehead when he ducked
to enter her miniscule foyer. She’d realized he was tall, but he must be at
least six-five.
“Ready to go? We’re running late.” As he spoke, he moved
into her living room, no doubt surprised she lived in a Venice cottage and not
a haunted shack. “I have the car double parked outside, no spaces anywhere in
the neighborhood.”
Coral took in his charcoal sports jacket and slacks,
perfectly tailored, and was even gladder she’d put effort into her appearance. “I
should have just ridden my broom.”
He spun to face her, his expression registering shock. Okay,
maybe a cheap shot. Gage couldn’t have a clue what it meant to be a witch. If
she offered him a shiny red apple, he’d figure it was poisoned. “We’d better
get going if we’re going to be there when our loving couple arrives.” To his
credit, he made no comment about the décor. His home would be a high-rise
condo, professionally decorated and cleaned twice a week by a pair of uniformed
strangers.
Her home was tidied occasionally by her. She couldn’t have
it too dusty if she didn’t want her fancy clients to decide she was too much of
a slob to visit in their designer ensembles. But nothing matched, her furniture
all picked up a piece at a time from flea markets and thrift stores.
“Sure. I’m ready.” She retrieved a delicate shawl and her
purse from a hook on the wall.
“Who have we here?”
She turned back to find her familiar sitting on the floor,
staring up at her guest, tail twitching. “Kansas, what are you doing?”
“Kansas?” His voice held amusement.
“Umm, yes. My cat.”
To her shock, he stooped and gathered the fifteen-pound
feline in his arms. Standing, he held her, stroking her ears, while the traitor
purred and rubbed against his hand. “She’s something.”
“She is that.”
“Friendly little thing, aren’t you?”
“Not usually.” She fought the urge to grab the cat back.
Kansas hated to be carried. She followed Coral around when it suited her, and
lay on a shelf in the bookcase when clients came, so still a few had commented
on the cat statue. But nobody picked her up. Not even her mistress. “I’m
ready.” And put my cat down.
But she didn’t want to start an argument. Three dates and a
report back. She had a single goal—keep her word and not have to see the doctor
again. The smug, Pied Piper of cats.
Why did he have to be so attractive? Lucky he was taken with
his “ten” girlfriend. Coral didn’t agree that people had to be alike in every
way, but she and Gage were night and day.
* * * *
Coral was stunning. In her own environment, she glowed. An
old, scraped up surfboard was mounted on the wall, and seashells were piled in
bowls and scattered on tables. Books with titles in odd symbols he couldn’t
read shared shelf-space with brass statues of obscure gods and goddesses. Was
she a witch and a beach bunny?
Her hair fell to the middle of her back in a gleaming sheet,
and her outfit was nothing less than pagan. Her green eyes slanted a little,
like her cat’s, and the low light emphasized the subtle richness of her tan.
For a moment, he’d forgotten he wasn’t her date. He was her
nemesis. They had nothing in common. Probably zero factors. And she believed he
still had a girlfriend. A wall he would keep in place to protect him from the
urge to pet the woman instead of the cat.
Coral frowned at him, and he set the animal on the floor and
headed outside. Time to go.
They arrived at the car, and he opened her door, a gallantry
he rarely accomplished. The women he’d dated either
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