Noah shook his hand again. “Thanks for agreeing to help. The other agent will be here tomorrow. We’ll get you up to speed on protocol.”
Noah led Declan into the house. Jamal’s animated voice was laughing and taunting Peyton. They entered the den to see them playing some kind of racing video game. Peyton’s car had just crashed, lying spinning wheels up.
“Woohoo!” Jamal hooted. “You stink!”
“Hey, I tried,” Peyton insisted. She glanced up, placed the controller on the table and stood.
“Peyton, this is Declan Elliot.”
“You’re the one who saved Noah’s life this afternoon.” She ignored Declan’s outstretched hand to hug him instead. “Thank you.”
Noah’s heart stuttered. Did she mean that like he hoped she did? Probably not, but for a second, hope flared.
She stepped back but judging from the stunned look on Declan’s face, he recognized her. “Uh, Ms. Durant, wow, it’s a pleasure.”
“Peyton, please.” She took Jamal by the shoulders and guided him in front of her. “And this is Jamal.”
Jamal shook Declan’s hand. “Are you two brothers? You’re both big and scary looking.”
Noah’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. This coming from a kid who was exposed to vicious gang members daily. He thought he might be offended.
“I don’t mean scary scary,” Jamal quickly explained. “I mean like you could go a few rounds with The Rock and win.”
Noah shared an amused chuckle with Declan. “No, we’re not, but we both served in the military, so that makes us brothers of a sort.”
“Cool! Did you get to kill people?”
Peyton winced and steered him back to the couch. “How about we let them talk while we have a rematch.”
Jamal leaped onto the cushions and then plopped down and grabbed the console. Noah led Declan to the in-law suite on the first level. “You can bunk down here. Our rooms are upstairs. I feel better having someone on the first floor.”
Declan glanced around the lavishly furnished room with a sitting area and an attached bathroom. “This is too much. I’d be fine in a broom closet.”
Noah slapped him on the back. “Thankfully you don’t have to sleep among the mops and buckets. Let’s head to the kitchen. I’ll give you a brief rundown tonight and then when the other agent arrives tomorrow, we’ll go over the specifics.”
#
Peyton was distracted and tired of playing the video game, but Jamal was having a blast, so she pasted on a smile and kept going. She’d served as the Pace Car Driver at the Indianapolis 500 twice, but she didn’t enjoy racing. It was cars going around in a circle, for goodness sake. Plus, it was always so loud with the cacophony of engines and spectators and music and announcers broadcasting over the loudspeakers. But Jamal’s animated voice was enough to keep her going, even after her fifth crash in as many games.
She glanced up to see Noah and Declan enter the den and her heart stuttered. Declan was incredibly handsome with black hair and light blue eyes, but it was Noah she couldn’t tear her gaze from. She’d harbored a huge crush on him from the moment she met him. Spending time with him had only intensified the feelings. She could really fall for this man.
“Is that Car Clash 6000?” Declan asked.
Peyton jumped up and handed him the control. “It is, and please feel free to take my place.”
He accepted the wheel and took her spot. Soon he and Jamal were racing around the track, hooting with laughter and taunting each other as their cars shot around the course.
Noah guided her from the room and then tipped her chin up with a finger. “Are you okay?”
Let’s see, someone was stalking her, he’d been shot at and could’ve died, the community center caught fire and they could’ve died and then her student had ended up in an alcohol coma and could’ve died. “Peachy.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The words were uttered so surely, she believed him. She looked into his eyes and was lost. She saw the desire there and knew her feelings weren’t one sided. All she had to do was lean up and press her lips to his. So, she did. Again.
He let her lead for a half-second, then his mouth devoured hers, his tongue stroking into her mouth, stealing her breath. She’d started this but he was definitely the one in control. She whimpered when he broke the kiss.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. He held her face in both of his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “You’re Owen’s sister.”
“So? I thought you were friends.”
“We are and that’s why. Sisters are off-limits.”
“That’s not fair.” She took a chance and kissed him again. Damn, when did she get so brazen? He responded just as eagerly and expertly as last time, pressing her against the wall so he could plunder her mouth. She felt the proof of his desire for her. She grabbed his mile-wide shoulders and climbed his body so she could wrap her legs around him and feel all that glorious hardness right where she needed it. He growled and thrust against her, causing her head to thump against the wall and her eyes to roll back in her head. She was going to come from this alone. They hadn’t even shed any clothes.
“This is a bad idea,” he gritted out as he licked a path down her neck.
She rocked into him, so dangerously close. “I think it’s a good idea. A very good idea.”
Then with one strong thrust, she was flying apart. He covered her mouth with his, absorbing her cries as he grinded against her, prolonging her ecstasy. It wasn’t until the pleasure slowly ebbed that she realized that yep, still fully clothed. More troubling was the fact that Jamal and Declan were only steps away in the other room. She was relieved to hear them still carrying on, absorbed in the game.
Noah eased her to the floor. “Damn, you’re beautiful.” His husky voice almost had her coming again. She reached out, closing her hand over him and he groaned, long and deep. Though she’d found release, he was still aroused, twin flags of color riding high on his cheeks. She was just about to suggest they continue this in her room when his phone rang.
He muttered a soft curse and lowered his forehead to hers. “It’s the office. I have to take it.” After brushing one last scorching kiss across her lips, he fished his phone from his pocket and paced away to answer.
She went to check on the auto race, only to find that they’d switched games and were now playing a lively round of football. She left them to it and retreated to her room to shower. She hoped Noah would join her.
Chapter Nine
Ethan Addison cruised along the Interstate, wishing he was driving Sally, his vintage Mustang. She loved the open road. But he was on the job, so the Caddie it was. He’d left home as soon as he’d gotten the call from Noah, stopping long enough to gear up before heading to Chicago. He’d do anything for his brother. After seeing him shot multiple times on a case weeks ago, Ethan was so damn relieved he was healthy and back in the saddle. He still had nightmares seeing all those bullets hit Noah. He said a silent prayer of thanks to the person who invented Kevlar vests.
Technically, he should be taking a few days off after just wrapping up an assignment, but Noah needed him to help protect Peyton Durant. Ethan grinned. She was a major hottie.
The highway was pretty much deserted except for semis running between Indianapolis and Chicago. He fiddled with the radio, looking for a classic rock station when his headlights lit on a car parked along the side of the road. For a second, he thought it was his beloved Sally, and his foot hit the brakes. The closer he got, he realized this vehicle was vintage, but a Charger instead of a Mustang. He rolled by and even in the darkness, there was no mistaking the shapely rear end encased in a long flowing skirt beneath the raised hood.
Ethan was nothing if not a gentleman, he told himself as he eased to the side of the road and then backed up until he was close to the broken-down vehicle.
He dug in his glovebox for a flashlight, jumped out and headed to the disab
led auto. The woman must not have heard him approach because she was spewing a litany of colorful curses in, if he wasn’t mistaken, Romani. “Can I give you a hand?”
She jumped with a squeak and banged her head against the hood. Ethan winced in sympathy.
“Shit…er, sugar, you scared the hell out of me,” the woman said, rubbing her head.
She turned around and Ethan’s heart stopped beating. From the glow of his flashlight, she was the most beautiful, exotic woman he’d ever laid eyes on. A scarf wrapped around her head with wavy black hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a colorful dress with a multitude of necklaces and a scarf of some sort tied around the middle, emphasizing a tiny waist, with lots of bangles on both arms. Big hoop earrings peeked out beneath the locks. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes in the darkness, but she was breathtaking.
She grabbed a wrench and wielded it menacingly. “You aren’t a serial killer who roams the highways looking for his next victim, are you? Because I gotta tell you, Son of Sam, you picked the wrong woman to mess with tonight.”
The way Ethan figured it, he’d picked the exact right one. Damn, she was something. His heart decided to work again and now it was beating as if he’d run a marathon. “It’s Son of Moon Beam, and no, I’m not a serial killer.”
She gaped at him, the arm holding the wrench dropping to her side. “Moon Beam? You can’t be serious.”
“’Fraid so.” He gestured to her disabled auto. “I know a little about vintage cars. Want me to take a look?”
She eyed him warily but finally gestured towards the car with the wrench and nodded. “Have at it.”
He smiled down at her as he passed by. “Are you headed to a costume party?”
Her brows narrowed. “No.”
Oh shit. “Uh, let me just see what’s going on,” he sputtered, sticking his head beneath the hood, cursing his big mouth. He’d offended her. He flashed his light inside the engine block, locating the problem instantly.
He was suddenly enveloped in the scent of jasmine as the woman stuck her head beneath the hood. “Can you tell what’s wrong?”
He glanced over at her. Not a damn thing, he wanted to say. She was incredible. She frowned at him again. He cleared his throat and trained the beam on the battery. “Looks like you’ve got a broken terminal, causing the battery to short circuit. See here where it’s melted?”
“Yes.”
“You’re lucky the battery didn’t explode.”
“Just freaking great.” She started spouting foreign words again and he’d bet they were curses.
“I can call a tow—”
“Where are you headed?” she asked at the same time.
“I’m driving to Chicago.”
“Perfect.” She scurried to her car and grabbed a bag before locking it. “Let’s go.”
He scratched his head in confusion. “Uh, did I offer you a ride?”
She clamped onto his arm and towed him to his SUV. “Yes, now let’s go. I don’t have time to waste.”
With a bemused smile, Ethan followed.
#
Esmerelda Jovanovich couldn’t believe her damn bad luck. First, she’d been having disturbing dreams for the past week that had shaken her to her core. Then her employee went missing without a trace. Now she couldn’t get in touch with her aunt Luminitsa. She always thought her aunt made up the name to sound more mystical, which would help in the psychic business, but she learned it was real and it meant little light. Esme’s name came from a form of emerald, the color of her eyes.
She’d tried calling both her aunt’s cell and Lumi’s best friend Ethel’s number, but both went directly to voice mail. She’d even tried paging her at the casino where Lumi and Ethel were participating in a poker tournament. Aunt Lumi was a master poker player. She and Ethel would act like they didn’t know what they were doing, just a couple of middle-aged women playing cards. Then they’d swoop in and wham! They’d steal the pots. It didn’t take long for the others to catch on and then she’d dazzle them with her skills. Esme learned early to never play games with her aunt.
When her pages went unanswered, she had no other choice but to jump in her aunt’s vintage Dodge Charger and head to Chicago to find her. Esme had loaned her red Rav 4 to her friend Sophie so she could attend a meeting in Louisville. Sophie’s ancient Subaru was on its last legs…er, wheels.
When Esme had been younger, she’d been embarrassed to be seen in the flashy orange Charger with flames decorating both doors. Now she wanted to shove it off a cliff, never mind that there were no mountains in the northern flat part of Indiana. The lights had started to flicker on the dash and then it completely died. She was able to coast to the side of the road, but she had no idea what to do.
Her aunt claimed to have precognition, or the ability to see into the future. Much to her aunt’s dismay, Esme had no powers whatsoever—that is until recently. She’d been having strange, unsettling dreams that were coming true. She only remembered bits and pieces when she woke. First, she dreamed that a bird somehow got into their shop and made a mess, only to arrive the next morning and find a pigeon flying around, and it’d left several messes. She’d laughed at the coincidence. But two nights later, she dreamed that someone threw a rock through her window and sure enough, when she returned home the next day, there was a stone lying among the shattered glass in her kitchen. What really freaked her out was when she dreamed that the vacant house two doors down burned to the ground. The next evening, it did.
She hadn’t told her aunt about her dreams yet because Lumi would make a great big deal about it, claiming that Esme’s powers were finally surfacing. Esme wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know what was going on, but it was strange that they’d just start suddenly.
Last night, she dreamed that Femi Gilland, the woman her aunt hired to help with readings, became violently ill and died. She’d woken up gasping in fear. She’d tried to call Femi, but there was no answer. The dream had seemed so real, she’d actually gotten dressed and headed to her house in the middle of the night, but no one answered the door.
Esme spent the day worrying about the woman who also possessed Romani blood. Like her aunt, Femi’s fortunes were scarily accurate. It’d been Femi’s day to work but with her aunt gone and Femi missing, Esme had been forced to conduct a few readings. She didn’t have the ability to see into the future, but her instincts were spot-on. She could read the way someone asked a question what kind of answer they wanted. She always gave the people hope, never anything negative. Aunt Lumi and Femi were more forthcoming. They gave the bad news with the good. The way Esme figured it, if customers heard something they liked, they’d keep coming back. Marketing 101. Or something like that.
Esme’s true passion was the line of candles and soaps she created that had taken off like gangbusters. Each one featured a scent that supposedly contained magical properties. The products were packaged with recycled material and included a charm that could be worn for good luck. A shop in Indianapolis got wind of her products and wanted to sell them in their shop. She was being franchised!
It’d been Esme’s idea to open a gift shop in one of the sprawling rooms on the bottom level of the house where Aunt Lumi ran her fortune telling business. They sold everything from amulets to miniature crystal balls to wands. Sales were through the roof, mostly online.
The home was a large, gothic-style monstrosity with steeply pitched gables, pointed windows and decorative tracery. It possessed just enough mystery to be spookily eerie, like a Halloween haunted house, but the inside was modernized and updated. Aunt Lumi lived on the top floor with an attic for storage. Esme had launched her soap and candle business in one of the spare rooms, but she’d soon outgrown the space and had moved to the unattached two-car garage behind the house. Since Aunt Lumi kept her vintage Charger in one bay, her work area was limited. She was already looking into a larger place to expand her operations.
Esme had attended an outdoor craft fair a few weeks ago a
nd came across a booth that displayed a few pieces of exquisite jewelry. The woman who created the pieces was sweet and very shy. Esme learned that she was a concert violinist. Making jewelry was her hobby and passion. Esme talked her into supplying an assortment of pieces to sell in the shop. She would be making jewelry with stones that held supposed mystical properties, a perfect complement to Esme’s line of products.
What set her on a mission to find her aunt was a phone call just as she was leaving the store. She’d stayed late to test a new scent to add to her designer line. The number on the screen was from an unknown number, so she almost didn’t answer. Afraid it might be her aunt calling, she picked up, relieved when she heard Femi’s accented voice. But instead of Femi’s deep, robust tone, her voice was scratchy and weak. Her only words were: “Beware, danger is imminent”. A chill had raced down Esme’s spine because Femi was gifted. Her premonitions almost always came true. The call disconnected and when Esme tried to call back, it rang and rang and rang. She’d hopped in the Charger and driven to Femi’s house again but there was still no sign of the woman. After checking with the hospital to make sure she hadn’t been admitted, she stopped by the police station and explained that her employee was sick and asked if they’d conduct a welfare check. One of the female officers volunteered and Esme followed her back to Femi’s house. Femi’s neighbor saw them and came over with a key, but there was no sign of the woman. The neighbor hadn’t seen her all day. The cop told Esme to find a picture of Femi and to file a report in one day if she was still missing. As soon as she left, Esme tried various ways to reach her aunt, to no avail. That’s when she jumped in the Charger and headed north.
Now as she faced her rescuer, she had to trust her instincts and they told her that this man was honest and good. He was so tall and broad. She couldn’t see his face, but his body was built like a Viking warrior. She’d just have to cajole him into dropping her off at the casino. Hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem since it was just off the Interstate.
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