My Fair Genie (Magically Ever After Book 6)

by Judi Fennell

  He brushed a hand over his face. “I’m an ass, Vana. You turn me on. I can’t deny it. But this isn’t the right time in my life to explore it.”

  She put her fists on her hips. “You were doing more than exploring a few minutes ago.”

  He liked that she wasn’t letting him off the hook. Uncomfortable as hell, but he respected it. “I know. And I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry. You’re gorgeous, you turn me on, and if the only way to make your magic work right is to kiss you, I’m man enough admit I’ll do it.”

  “Is that supposed to be an apology?”

  “Um… yeah?” He pulled out his charming smile.

  “Seriously? You’re going to kiss me because I’m here, I’m hot, and you have a convenient excuse? Pardon me while I swoon.”

  Okay, so the charming smile didn’t work. He’d go for just charming. “I was paying you a compliment.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Really? No wonder you’re still single.”

  “Hey, I’m single because I’ve chosen to be single. There are a bunch of women who want to marry me.”

  “Good. So go kiss them and get them to fix up your house.”

  “I just might.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.”

  They glared at each other from opposite sides of the room.

  He scrubbed his face again. He needed a shave. “I’m sorry. You’re right. That was a lame apology. And I am sorry. For the lame apology and for sending you mixed signals and for acting like an ass.” He held out his hand. “Please accept my apology?”

  She glanced at his hand, nibbling her bottom lip. Besides fidgeting with her fingers, she also nibbled her lip when she was nervous. And thank God for it. He didn’t like being the only one nervous here.

  “All right. Apology accepted.” She put her hand in his. The one with the paintbrush.

  That had wet paint in it.

  He laughed, glad he had a reason to not tug her the rest of the way into his arms and break the truce. “So, about your magic… Can we start this over? For the good of the house?”

  She rolled her eyes and blew out a breath, but there was a hint of a smile beneath it. “The good of the house? Okay, whatever you say.” She tugged her hand back (leaving the paintbrush), puckered up, looked at him one more time, and blew a kiss.

  And the bottom fell out of his world—or rather, out of the bedroom.

  Chapter 29

  Vana waved away the plaster and dust, coughing to clear her lungs as she tried to figure out what had gone wrong this time.

  “Vana! Are you okay?” Zane moved a chunk of floor—or maybe that was the ceiling of the room below them—off her calf and helped her stand.

  She flexed her toes. Nothing broken, thank the stars. “I’m fine. Well, I would be if I could figure out what happened. I swear I was trying to fix everything.” And now she had even more to fix. Gods, what was wrong with her? Even the most simple of things…

  “Maybe it was too much at once.”

  “Come on, Zane. This is pitiful. It’s not like you asked me to repaint the Sistine Chapel.”

  Vana clamped a hand over her mouth. Please gods, let her not have just destroyed that masterpiece.

  “It’s all right, Vana. We can fix this. The key is not to get discouraged.”

  She shoved her hands onto her hips. Leave it to a mortal to lessen the magnitude of an epic fail in magical ability. “Oh it is, is it? Do you not see this? Looks pretty discouraging to me.”

  “No, it looks pretty powerful to me.”

  Way to rub salt in the wound. “Powerfully destructive.”

  “So let’s make it constructive.”

  “Huh?”

  “Vana, look at all the power inside of you. Do you see those rafters?” He pointed to the exposed beams that looked like a giant had gnawed through them. “See how thick they are? Your magic has to be really strong to be able to do that. We just have to figure out how to reverse it.”

  “But how? And why? That’s what I don’t get. I’ve studied and practiced every chapter in DeeDee’s Djinnoire for years. Centuries. I should be able to handle my magic. Do you know I once tried to make alfalfa sprout up during a drought to feed a starving town? Guess what happened. It rained falafel instead. Tiny balls of chickpeas bouncing around like manna from heaven. Luckily, that’s what they all thought it was, but come on—falafel? Falafel? I just don’t get it. I should be able to fix the paint and the floor and everything else without you having to kiss me. And now I can’t manage to do it even when you do.”

  “But Vana, you did do it right.”

  She didn’t bother responding. What was with Mr. Sunshine all of a sudden?

  He raised her hand and intertwined their fingers, palm to palm. “You did, Vana. I asked if we could start over and then you blew that kiss. You were starting this—the room—over. From its beginning.” He pointed at the rafters. “Just as I’d asked.”

  “What are you? A Dr. Phil wannabe? Mr. Life Coach?” He could take his brand of happy and peddle it elsewhere. She’d lived through this ignominy for centuries.

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “Think about it.”

  Drat. She couldn’t argue with someone who didn’t want to argue. “You’re stretching it.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “And that is?”

  He tugged on her hand.

  She stumbled into him and, just like that, found herself where she really wanted to be.

  “I’ll kiss you again,” he said, saying the words she really wanted to hear. “We’ll make it right.”

  She really wished they could.

  This kiss was tender. Soft. Gentle. Every bit as pervasive as the other one, and this time, the magic swirled through her again, bubbling up from the depths of her soul and spreading to every part of her. She opened her eyes to see if it was shining from her pores, so bright did it make her feel, but all she saw was Zane watching her.

  The kiss turned erotic in an instant.

  But an instant was all she allowed it to last.

  She wrenched herself away and kissed the air, wishing to make everything right.

  In the next instant they were back in the bedroom on the third floor with the floor beneath them—

  Holy smokes, they were in bed.

  Together.

  “What the hell?” Zane jumped out of the bed. Thank the gods he was fully clothed. But his shorts did nothing to hide the effect their kiss had had on him. “What did you wish for?”

  Vana scrambled out of the other side, flinging sheets—oh, gods, pink satin ones!—and pillows off. One hit him in the chest. “Not this! I wasn’t thinking about this!”

  “You weren’t?” He sounded disappointed and hugged the pillow to him. “Wow. Talk about opposite sides. That was definitely what I was thinking about.”

  “You were?”

  “Uh.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I told you I was an ass.”

  She threw the other pillow at him. “You are.”

  “At least I’m an honest ass.” He tossed a pillow back at her.

  “What?”

  “Admit it. You were thinking about this.” He waved a hand over the bed. “I dare you to say otherwise.”

  Vana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Okay. I was thinking about it. But I wasn’t wishing it. That’s the truth.”

  “Could you wish it?”

  “What? Do you mean could I wish you into mak—going to bed with me?” Now there was an interesting question. If he were really her master, then no, she couldn’t because genies couldn’t do anything to their masters without their express wish. But he wasn’t her master, so theoretically, it should be possible. Whether it was ethical was another story. But then, she’d pretty much rewritten the ethics about sleeping with mortal non-masters, hadn’t she? “You’re saying that’s the only way you would?”

  Cocky gave way to flirty. And sexy. He leaned a hand against the footboard and cocked his hip. “Hell, no.” Then he got s
erious. “But it might get complicated.”

  It was already complicated. And, really, this was for the best.

  She’d remind herself of that in a thousand years. “You’re right. It’s not a good idea.” She so lied.

  “Good. Then we’re agreed.”

  She glanced at his hand on the footboard. Time to get this temptation out of here. “Yes.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t move.

  “Uh, Zane?” She waved her hand for him to move away from the bed, mentally pleading with him to move. Begging him because her resolve was only so strong.

  It took him a few seconds, but then he stood up and stepped back. “Oh. Right.”

  And that, as they say, was that. Over. Done. All that was left was to get rid of the bed.

  She tried to muster a smile—or at least keep the frown from her face—and pucker up. Somehow she managed it.

  “There.” She brushed her hands together. “That’s done. And so is the room. Time to move on to the next one.”

  “It’s another bedroom.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  She couldn’t not smile at him. “You’re right,” she laughed, walking past him. “You are an ass.”

  “And I’m told I have a pretty nice one, too.”

  Cocky and flirty and funny and sexy. If she hadn’t been in trouble before, she definitely was now.

  ***

  Gary removed the dish and the bottle from his safe. He’d hated running out this morning, but getting the money back into Marshall’s account before Lynda noticed had been tantamount. Now he could focus on getting the genie so that wouldn’t be an issue.

  But no matter how many times he’d rubbed this damn bottle last night, the genie had refused to make an appearance.

  He tried rubbing it again.

  Nothing. What the fuck could be preventing her from coming out—

  Oh, hell. Zane. It was always Zane. First in school with teachers and parents and girls all loving the kid. Hello? Did they forget who his great-grandfather was?

  Then there was his own father. Probably the biggest offender. Always putting Zane on a pedestal as a testament to what you could overcome with hard work and perseverance.

  Not to mention, a genie. God, what Gary wouldn’t give to drop that bomb in dear ol’ Dad’s disapproving lap.

  Instead, he dropped the bottle back in the safe. Then he picked up the dish and pulled the duct tape off it.

  The thing didn’t even flinch.

  “Come on, move.” He shook it.

  Nothing here either. Not even a wrinkle of those curly edges that’d been flapping like a bird last night as it’d flown across the room at him.

  “I know you’re in there. I know what you can do. You can’t fool me. I was in that kitchen.” He squeezed—and still nothing. Son of a bitch.

  He tossed it back into the safe, too, smiling when it clinked against the bottle. He hoped that hurt. “Fine. Be that way. We’ll see if you’re so stubborn after being locked in my safe for days on end. No sunlight at all. And you’ll never see your friends again.” Unless he could trade it to the genie for her services.

  Maybe even the ones Zane was probably enjoying…

  Chapter 30

  The house was completely restored to the way Peter had had it built and decorated, down to the last tassel on the furniture, and Vana had even added modern conveniences like air conditioning and a dishwasher. Even the old iron oven looked brand new.

  She’d thought about trying to change the children and everyone back, starting with Eirik since his magic would, hopefully, mitigate any issues her magic might whip up. Unfortunately, a whip showed up on her first attempt, which didn’t bode well for anyone. Plus Eirik, like Henry—like all of them, come to think about it—was still sound asleep.

  “Zane, do you think we should wake everyone up?” she whispered as she peeked into the front parlor from the kitchen.

  “Why would you want to do that? Let’s enjoy the quiet.”

  “I don’t know. Something just doesn’t feel right.”

  “It’s called freedom, Vana.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s go outside. We still have work to do out there.”

  She glanced back once more, but when he tugged her hand, she went willingly.

  As if that was ever in question.

  “Okay, Zane, but we’re going to have to pace ourselves. Mrs. Ertel will have a cow if anything happens like this.” She snapped her fingers.

  They both did a double take when a cow mooed in the doorway.

  “Holy smokes!”

  Zane, amazingly, laughed. “I guess it could be worse.”

  She’d like to know how because her magic being on the fritz again was pretty bad (as were most Fritzes—an angry family of gnomes she’d known once).

  She looked around, praying she wouldn’t see any of them while Zane grabbed the cow’s halter and led it toward the back door. “Come on, Vana. Let’s take Bessie outside before she wakes everyone up, and we can get to work.”

  “Do you think fixing up the outside is really going to help? You heard Merlin. Gary’s gunning for you.”

  “Then I’ll just have to outgun him, won’t I?”

  “How?”

  “I’ll think of something. Don’t forget; I play offense, and the best defense is a good offense.”

  But this wasn’t a game. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

  When he led her to the shed in the backyard and handed her keys to something mechanical, she knew he didn’t.

  “Keys?” she asked, taking them as if they were coated in venom. “What for?”

  “The riding lawnmower.”

  “A riding lawnmower. As in, something with blades? Sharp blades?”

  “Good.” He tied Bessie to a tree, then backed the mechanical monstrosity onto the grass. “I wasn’t sure if you knew what one was. I didn’t realize these had been invented when you were out of your bottle last.”

  “Not ones that needed keys.” She took two steps back from the vehicle, still dangling the keys as if they were dead mice. Actually, she’d rather they be mice. Mice, she didn’t mind. Mechanical things with deadly attachments, however… “Just what do you expect me to do with the lawnmower?”

  “Mow the lawn?”

  “Funny.” She enclosed the keys in her fist and held it out to him. “Seriously, Zane. I don’t mow lawns.”

  “You also didn’t do magic well, but you overcame that.”

  “That is so not a fair argument.”

  “You know that’s an oxymoron, right?”

  She’d tell him who the moron was… “Did you, or did you not, just experience the entire second floor of your house caving in? And that was without spinning blades.”

  He shook out a floppy hat and plopped it onto her head. “First of all, it was only the one room. Second, you fixed it. Third, we can’t cut the grass by magic. I don’t trust Mrs. Ertel not to come back because the woman is dying for something to gossip about.”

  Vana flicked the brim out of her eyes. It didn’t stay there. “I thought her husband was supposed to do this?”

  “Do you want him riding around with gargoyles on the loose?”

  Frankincense. He had a point. “I could magic them back to the fence posts.”

  “Don’t you have to find them first?”

  Double frankincense. She blew out a breath that sent the hat brim flipping back on itself, gathered her hair, and fashioned it into one long braid down her back. “Fine. How does this work?”

  Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that hard once Zane showed her. And without magic, too. She had a feeling it was easier to work because of no magic, but she didn’t want to test the theory.

  Pretty smart of him, giving her something semi-dangerous that could blow into full-on lethal if she tried to get out of it the supposedly easy, magical way.

  And she was actually enjoying herself. Zane was fixing things like the basement door, a crooked gate post, and the rotted floorboard on the back porch, but sh
e was just riding around in pretty patterns on the grass and enjoying the birds darting around her as they swooped in to pick off whatever insects the cut grass gave up.

  The weeping willows offered shade when the sun got too hot, and she stopped by the honeysuckle vines growing in profusion over the gate at the back of the yard to sip their nectar. Many years ago, Peter had run a carriage service in town and put the horses out to pasture on the land behind the fence when they were too old to work anymore. She’d have to let Zane know. It would be a nicer spot for Bessie than that tree she was tied to.

  She caught a glimpse of two of the gargoyles. One was imitating the willows; he’d gathered some of the fallen branches and draped them over his flat head, which was pretty inventive for a gargoyle. He must be higher on the evolutionary scale than others she’d dealt with in the past, but his buddy? Not so much. That one was huddled by the creek, trying to pass for a stone. It might have worked if he hadn’t kept flicking his tail.

  Both gargoyles grinned when she drove by without “finding” them. No need to ruin their good time, and she’d be able to find at least those two when her magic was working again.

  Vana couldn’t remember the last time she’d had absolutely nothing to do but experience the world. Oh, sure, she was “mowing the lawn” (she put mental quotes around the phrase because, really, she was riding a piece of machinery; it was doing all the hard work and this was actually quite the cushy job), but no one was around and she didn’t have to answer to anyone.

  For all that her parents wanted her to become some über-genie like DeeDee, Vana was enjoying this autonomy… and the fact that the only person she’d be letting down with screwy magic right now would be herself. That had a lot to recommend it.

  An hour after Zane had said she’d finish, Vana drove the mower back to the shed. It and she were covered in grass clippings and sweat, and she had a sprinkling of new freckles, but Vana felt great. She’d accomplished something all on her own. And without magic. She’d bet Mother and Father had never mowed a lawn that way.

  “I was just about ready to come looking for you.” Zane swatted her hat brim when she handed him the keys.