He just looked at her incredulously. “You seriously think that, don’t you? That you’re not normal.”
She shrugged his hand away. “It’s not normal to connect with the supernatural world. It’s creepy and wrong.”
He had a deep frown on his face now. “Who told you something like that?”
“Everybody.”
“Everybody? I find that very hard to believe.”
“My mother never approved of what I could do. In fact, she hated it. She made sure I knew on a daily basis it was abnormal and unnatural and freakish. And at school…” She trailed off. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? I know it’s strange and just because I can do it doesn’t mean I like it.”
He laughed then. At her. She felt heat come to her cheeks.
“Fine, laugh,” she said tightly. “I’m used to that.”
“You’re completely crazy, you know that?”
“I’m not crazy.”
“I think I’d have to disagree with that.”
She let out a sigh of frustration. “You don’t know me.”
“I think I do. And I’ll tell you why I think I know you. Because you think that after that little psychic display I think you’re a freak. I can’t believe your mother would say that to you.” He seemed actually angry about it.
“Forget it.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You’re all ruffled now. Lost that cool composure from before, huh? Do I really have the ability to make you lose control of yourself?”
“I really think I hate you.”
He snorted. “Now it’s hate. Awesome. Before, I knew it was indifference, maybe a little bit of disgust, but hate is so much more interesting.”
“Why are you baiting me like this?”
“Because I don’t think anybody ever does bait you like this. Nobody challenges you, Amanda. Nobody pushes your buttons.”
“Maybe I don’t want my buttons pushed.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “Maybe your buttons have never been pushed by the right person.”
Her cheeks grew warmer. “Let’s leave my buttons out of this.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” His gaze slid down her front and she self-consciously crossed her arms as a feeble form of protection from his intense scrutiny. “What you can do is amazing. You’re amazing, whether you realize it or not.”
“Amazing,” she said the word with an ironic twist. “So amazing that my father was freaked out by me and abandoned my family when I was a kid and my mom was stuck raising me.”
His eyes narrowed. “He did that?”
“A ghost pushed him down the stairs. He kind of blamed me for that.”
“He blamed you?” Another flash of anger entered his gaze.
“Of course he did. It was my fault the ghost was there in the first place.”
She turned away from him wishing the heat would leave her face. But there was something about Jacob that definitely did push those hidden buttons of hers. Why did she let him get to her? What was it about this admittedly gorgeous jerk that totally flustered her?
“You want him to make love to you so badly you can barely remain standing, don’t you?”
She frowned at the thought, not to mention the mental images it invoked.
Then her eyes went very wide. She hadn’t just thought that. She’d heard it. Somebody had spoken those words to her.
She looked at Jacob, who was frowning at her sudden change in expression.
“What is it?” The concern returned to his green eyes as if he sensed something had changed.
Something had.
“Um…” she began. “I was right. This house is definitely haunted.”
“What? You can see the ghost?”
She nodded.
“Where is it?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “Standing right next to you.”
4
LEANING AGAINST the wall was a beautiful ghost with long blond hair, wearing a long white gown. Amanda could tell it was a ghost because she could see right through to the wall behind her.
“You heard me?” the ghost asked.
Amanda studied the woman for a moment. “I heard you.”
The ghost glanced at Jacob. “He’s very handsome. I can see why you’re attracted to him.”
“What’s happening?” Jacob asked, scanning the area around him. “I can’t see anything.”
The ghost walked slowly around Jacob, checking him out from head to toe and pausing at all the key places—his broad shoulders, muscled arms and chest, firm ass and the hard-to-ignore bulge at the front of his jeans.
Amanda’s mouth wasn’t dry anymore.
“Uh…Amanda…” Jacob snapped her out of her sudden daze. “Why are you looking at me like that? Where’s the ghost now?”
Get a grip, she told herself sternly. This was not the time or place to flake out.
You want him to make love to you so badly you can barely remain standing.
Was that what the ghost had said?
So not true. She wasn’t obsessed with sex. She didn’t fixate on the physical—no matter how perfect a subject Jacob might be.
Stupid ghost.
“What’s your name?” Amanda asked.
The beautiful woman tore her appraising gaze away from Jacob’s body and looked at her. “My name is Catherine. This is my house. Or at least it used to be. Why are you here?”
Amanda rubbed her dry lips together. “We’re here to ask you to leave this house, and we hope you’ll be open to that suggestion. Do you know what keeps you bound here?”
“This is the only place we can be together,” Catherine replied, and there was sadness in her expression now.
“Are you open to leaving?”
“No. This is where we belong. Where we must stay. There is no other choice for us.”
Amanda scanned the area. Jacob had taken a step back, watching curiously as she spoke to the ghost he couldn’t see. “Where is the other ghost?”
“Right here.” A man walked directly out of the wall next to where Amanda stood. He was tall and handsome, with dark-blond hair and blue eyes. His gaze, though, was anything but friendly. The glare he directed at Amanda made chills run down her arms. “You need to leave us in peace.”
Catherine looked at the man and there was no doubting the affection in her eyes. “Nathan, please. I can handle this.”
He stiffened then turned to face her. “I only get to see you for an hour a day. I don’t want our time interrupted by these intruders.”
Her brows drew together. “I know. But it’s dangerous.”
His jaw tensed. “It’s always been dangerous for us.”
Then he reached out toward Catherine and she did the same. When their hands came within two feet of each other a flash of light appeared and the ghosts disappeared. At the same time, what felt like a bolt of electricity ripped through Amanda and she gasped out loud. Her knees buckled. She was sure she’d fall to the floor, but Jacob was there to catch her, keeping her on her feet.
“They’re cursed,” she managed after a moment. Her eyelids fluttered and she realized she may have blacked out for a moment. “The ghosts—they were involved romantically when they were alive, but couldn’t be together. They died at the same time, I think. Now they’re bound in this house together, but they can only see each other for short periods and they can’t touch.”
“Did they tell you this?” Jacob asked, his forehead creased deeply.
She shook her head. “I had a vision just now. It was blurry and disjointed but it was sort of like I was actually there, seeing with my own eyes what happened.” She inhaled sharply. “How horrible to be like that. To be able to be with the one you love but never touch each other.”
“Cursed spirits,” Jacob said. “Sounds like an exorcism is definitely required here.”
His arms were still around her and the hard line of his body pressing against hers was enough to pull her back to reality—mostly
because it felt too good. “I’m okay now. You can let go of me.”
He released her immediately. “Sorry.”
She fumbled through her bag and pulled out a notebook in which she scribbled down as much as she could remember of her sudden vision of the two ghosts. She didn’t normally see with such clarity. Sure, she could see the ghost itself, talk to it, and try to come to some sort of an understanding. Sometimes the ghost could be convinced to leave the mortal world through a simple conversation. Exorcism was a worst-case scenario.
But visions were new. One more ability to add to her unwelcome repertoire. Great.
Maybe Nathan had murdered Catherine and then killed himself. Was that why they were being punished? She wasn’t sure. She’d only seen glimpses. Some kind of magic had been involved here.
It didn’t matter. The bottom line was they’d confirmed ghostly activity in the house and the owner wanted that taken care of.
The ghosts hadn’t been violent, which was good. But that sense of despair and desperation to touch each other—
A chill went through her.
“I know I haven’t been much help so far,” Jacob said. “Sorry about that.”
She looked up to see his forehead was furrowed. “Forget it. You can’t see what I see.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Don’t say that. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Says you.” He sighed. “To be able to do what you do? That’s a gift.”
“Curse.”
“Gift.”
She forced a tight smile on her face. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”
He didn’t try to argue any more about that, which was a nice change. She couldn’t help but smile inwardly at his reaction. Most of the other PARA agents Amanda had been teamed up with over the years had a very matter-of-fact way of dealing with the unusual stuff. Like it was normal for them. Average. Almost boring.
Jacob looked at it as though it was amazing. Then again he’d only discovered his psychic abilities a couple of years ago. He hadn’t had to deal with them for decades.
Curse. Definitely.
They moved through the living room and Amanda pulled at a corner of the plastic covering the sofa.
“I think this sofa is original,” she said. “Well over a hundred years old.”
“Antiques Roadshow would have a field day in here.”
She ran her fingers lightly over the dark material underneath. More images came to her mind and she gasped.
“Hey,” Jacob said. “Are you getting something?”
She nodded. “Definitely something.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t…I don’t know yet…” She tried to see past the fog, worried she was going in too deep and beginning to pull away, but the vision was suddenly there in front of her again, this time as clear as day.
Catherine was leading Nathan into the room. He was reluctant to follow but helpless to her charms. He found her so beautiful; too beautiful to resist, even though she was the wife of his employer. Ever since the other night at midnight when they’d first made love, he had been unable to think of anyone else.
“This isn’t right,” he murmured in a feeble attempt to stop her.
“Shh,” she silenced him with another kiss.
“Your husband—”
“Please, Nathan…I want you so much…”
Her hands found the buttons on his pants and she undid them one by one until she freed his erection. As she slid her tongue along his length he was completely helpless to her.
He loved her with all his heart and soul. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but wanted to be with her like this always. Every time they made love was better than the last. The feel of her body clenching him as he drove into her, his hands on her breasts, his mouth swirling over the peaks of her nipples as he thrust himself into her slick heat—
“Amanda—” she heard Jacob say from a million miles away, but she couldn’t drag herself out of the vision, her body on fire as she sank into the deep, warm pool of passion from memories that didn’t belong to her. The vision was of bodies moving together, gasps and soft moans, as Catherine and Nathan made love.
A clock chimed. Twelve times. It was midnight.
It was significant, that clock. Amanda tried to focus on it—a large black grandfather clock with an ivory face that stood against the wall.
Catherine let out a soft cry, arching her back, her breasts flattening against Nathan’s hard-muscled chest as he brought her to orgasm.
And then a blur. A flash. And they were apart. It was later, but Amanda couldn’t tell how much later. The clock was now obscured by the shape of a man. A murderously jealous husband. Words were spoken, threats and curses thrown out.
“You’ll never touch her again.”
There was the sharp crack of several gunshots. Catherine’s scream of pain and terror. A fight. Nathan’s furious, grief-filled gaze stilled by another shot.
The glass on the front of the clock was shattered by a stray bullet.
Two nude bodies were found by the police. Lovers. A suicide pact, the police decided. The husband claimed ignorance and dark grief that his slut of a wife would take up with a common servant. A nobody.
Catherine and Nathan were bound to the house where they were murdered, but unable to see each other except for one hour a day, from eleven o’clock to midnight. When the chimes of the clock grew silent, they’d disappear from each other’s view, never able to touch each other.
But why? Why were they still trapped there?
Amanda let out a shaky sob as she finally came out of the vision and realized she was crying. She also realized that somebody held her tightly in his arms while seated on the floor—it was Jacob.
“Amanda, can you hear me?” He wiped away her tears with his thumbs as he held her face gently between his hands. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I…I just got a little carried away there.”
“I see that.”
He stroked the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back from her face. His touch was electric and she took a sharp inhalation of breath. Her body still felt the aftereffects of the lust-filled vision, her skin more sensitive than normal. Hot to the touch. She braced her hands against his firm chest to try to push him away but didn’t. He felt so good pressed against her.
Much too good.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Quarter to twelve.”
When the clock struck midnight Catherine and Nathan couldn’t see each other until the next day. For eternity. Maybe it would be an act of kindness to have them exorcised. She couldn’t imagine, after seeing the sadness in their eyes, that this existence was a happy one for them.
Dammit. She hated her job sometimes.
No, not sometimes. Despite her friends and the generous paycheck, she always hated her job. In her new life with David, she wouldn’t have to deal with cursed ghost lovers and chiming clocks that kept them apart.
Chiming clocks.
The clock had taken up a good part of her vision. That had to have some significance. Could it be possible that it had something to do with the curse? It seemed to revolve around time, after all.
Still seated on the floor with Jacob, Amanda glanced off to the side to see Catherine standing watching her. Nathan was nowhere to be seen.
“Please, you must go,” Catherine said. “We mean no harm. Leave us in peace.”
“Where’s the clock?” Amanda asked.
“The clock?”
“The big black grandfather clock.” Amanda looked around the room. “It was once there, in that corner, but now it’s gone. Where is it?”
Catherine shook her head. “You shouldn’t bother with that. It’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
“The clock is enchanted. It was given to me by my aunt, a self-proclaimed witch, as a wedding gift. She never approved of my marriage, said that a marriage where there was no love w
as doomed.” She set her chin. “I guess she was right about that. The clock works its magic at midnight and is the reason Nathan and I are in this situation in the first place. Why we’re bound to this house and to each other forever.”
Amanda shook her head. “But we deal with enchanted objects, especially dangerous ones. I need to assess it. Maybe we can help you.”
Her attention moved to the other side of the room where Nathan had reappeared.
“The clock is upstairs,” he said. “You should definitely go see it.”
“Nathan,” Catherine said sharply.
He cocked his head to the side. “I’m only trying to help them.”
“Why do you have to interfere? This is none of our business.”
Nathan’s gaze was intense. “If it weren’t for the clock, we wouldn’t be together.”
Amanda could sense Jacob staring as her head turned from side to side as if she was watching a tennis match. She felt as though she was. One that didn’t make any sense to her.
“I have to say it’s a bit unnerving not knowing what’s going on right in front of my own eyes,” he said.
“Help me up,” she whispered.
Jacob got up and offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet.
“The ghosts?” he asked.
She scanned the room. They’d disappeared the moment she turned away from them.
She ran through the information she’d received. Catherine’s aunt had given her the clock as a wedding gift and Catherine believed it to be enchanted in some way—the reason her and Nathan’s spirits were trapped in the house.
It was almost midnight. If she could witness what happened when the clock struck midnight, maybe that would help in the assessment. If she could do something, anything to break the curse for the ghosts…
Why was she allowing herself to become so involved with this? She didn’t even like love stories, let alone tragic ones that ended in murder.
“The ghosts are gone,” she said. “For now. We need to find the clock.”
“What clock?”
What was she supposed to say to that that didn’t make her sound completely insane? Then again, what did she care what Jacob thought of her? “It’s a clock that was here when the ghosts were cursed. It might even be the cause of the curse. We need to find it, assess it, and then we’re getting out of here.”
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