Capturing the Last Welsh Witch

by J. M. Davies

  He slammed the steering wheel with his hand and let his gaze wander toward Ella, who slept like a baby and made little snorting noises. She was curled into the fetal position, but every now and then she moved, and he caught a glance of her makeup-free face, which in sleep appeared softer, more relaxed. He let out a deep breath. It was funny how in watching her, his anger slowed in tune with her breathing, and he admitted to himself how utterly captivating and beautiful she was.

  A huge commercial truck honked its horn in the adjoining lane and he swiftly maneuvered his vehicle away. She literally would be the death of him. Since that kiss in the alleyway—a kiss that never should have happened—something tugged at him and twisted in his belly. Hell, even in the diner, the way her eyes focused solely on him, drinking him in, practically begging him to kiss her again and her frosty glare at the waitress should have annoyed him. Yet it had the opposite effect. Ella was hot; how had he ever believed she was plain or ordinary? Damn it, he was not used to feeling played or out of control. He did not date; he had lovers and that was the way he liked it. Anything else was trouble and took his focus off the mission.

  Ella was a complication he couldn’t afford. However, his body was claiming otherwise. When she came near, his body responded in seconds, leaving him as frustrated as hell. His instincts told him to protect her from harm. She clearly was a magnet for trouble. Yet, this was the opposite of common sense. But when had he ever demonstrated that? In the hot zones, he’d acted on his gut, and more times than not, his gut was right. His grip tightened around the wheel at the thought of what he should do about Ella. All that was clear in his mind despite the lies she dished out was he would kill anyone who tried to hurt her and that worried him. Maybe she wasn’t entirely lying because she had definitely cast a spell over him. A low laugh escaped his lips. For now, she was exactly where he could keep a close eye on her. He would get to the bottom of the puzzle that was Ella Masters.

  As he stared ahead at the virtually empty highway, Marcus wondered whether he had made the wrong decision earlier when he had phoned his boss. The whole conversation stunk and made him uneasy. However, he reasoned that it would give him more time to figure out what the hell the Elusti’s role in all of this was. He told Jackson that he had acquired the target, and explained the run-in with the Elusti. He made out that he was worried about Ella’s safety, and that taking a slower route on the back roads would be better as they seemed to know her every move. At the mention of the Elusti, his boss clamped down his conversation. Marcus explained what had happened at Ella’s house.

  “I guess this is another mess that I have to clear up, Drayton. Just make sure you don’t leave a trail of dead bodies across the state. You have twelve hours to bring her in, understand?”

  Marcus had expected more resistance from Jackson, and certainly more questions about what had happened, which confirmed that something unusual was going on. Was he being set up? He pulled off the highway, and prodded Ella.

  “We’re almost there.”

  She did not stir. The last twenty-four hours had been a minefield to navigate and it was not going to get any better. She must be exhausted. A witch, he whispered as he scratched his head. Her file referred to her as the witch because of two college dumb ass kids reciting that she had spelled them to do crazy stunts one Halloween night. Her story was somewhat different and involved the frat boys behaving in a lewd and borderline terrorizing way that should have ended with their arrests but their parents had deep pockets and Ella wouldn’t press charges. The complaint was several years old and the only slip of information he had managed to dig up from her past. But all the boys had called her a witch and it had stuck.

  He didn’t know what to make of her confession. Of all the likely scenarios that he had imagined—such as she was a Russian spy, a member of the Secret Service or a wife of some big crime boss—he had never imagined that. Inside, his gut instinct told him whatever she was, it was not a murderer, and he would be damned if he would turn her over without more information. The sign he passed read East Brunswick. His old buddy Jake, who he had not seen in over a year, was expecting him. He hoped he would be able to help.

  Jake’s ranch house was at the end of the dimly lit street. It was silent apart from the rustles of the trees as the wind brushed against them. He parked in the driveway and turned the engine off. His eyes studied the house as it lay shrouded in darkness and observed the absence of any movement inside. Across the street, identical houses lay spread out in a horseshoe curve and all were equally quiet. He looked for any messages on his phone from Jake, who he’d contacted earlier, giving as few details as possible for his early-morning arrival.

  Certain that it was safe, he pushed the door of the truck open and stepped out. Ella started to stir and sat up, bringing the blanket that was thrown over her up around her shoulders. Marcus walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. He offered her his hand to help her down, but she shook her head and jumped to the ground. Immediately her body swayed, but two muscle-clad arms instantly swooped under her, grabbing hold and saving her.

  “I can manage. Put me down.” She wriggled and pushed her hands against his chest.

  “I rather doubt that. You hardly touched your food in the diner and after what you’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours, you’re beat. Unless, hang on—was that little performance what happens just before you lift off and fly? I mean, witches fly, don’t they?” He laughed and carried on despite her reluctance. Carrying her was not difficult; as a Navy SEAL, he was used to carrying his body weight plus that of his gear. She was a light weight by comparison.

  As he neared the back door, it opened with a creak. A well-built man with deep set eyes and closely shaved dark blond hair appeared with a broad smile etched on his face. He remained in the house and beckoned for Marcus to enter, only speaking once they were in the house and he closed the door. “Well, well, bro, unexpected, but great to see you.”

  Marcus put Ella down and clutched the other man in a quick bear hug. They pulled apart, and the man punched Marcus in the upper arm but fixed his eyes on Ella. Marcus rested his hand on Jake’s shoulder, as if to keep him apart from Ella when he noticed his glance didn’t lift from her.

  “Ella, this is Jake. Jake, this is my fiancée, Ella.” The word was out before he could retract it, but it showed his friend that she was hands-off.

  Jake instantly lifted his gaze away and glared over at him silently for a second before he shoved off Marcus’s hand and lifted Ella up, easily swinging her around.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Ella, it’s a mighty pleasure to meet you.” Jake smiled with delight, and peered across at Marcus as he kissed Ella firmly on the cheek. He placed her back on the ground, but instead of letting her go, clamped his arms around her waist and squeezed her against his solid chest.

  “You even smell good.” He sniffed her hair.

  “Jake.” Marcus growled and pulled him off her. His face leered right up close to Jake’s.

  “It’s okay.” She tugged at his sleeve.

  Her touch and voice had a strange effect on him. The pulse in his neck that throbbed since Jake pawed Ella settled and he unclenched his teeth. He dropped his shoulders, and without any good reason, he marched next to Ella.

  “Well, well, this is interesting. I never thought I’d see the day, you acting all possessive. I’ve never seen that. Engaged? Brother, you swore that there were too many beauties out there to pick just one and you sure bedded a few.” His gaze flicked over Ella. “Although, you sure are a rare beauty. Sorry, I don’t mean to offend you…”

  Ella swung her gaze from Marcus to Jake, confused as to why he’d introduced her as his fiancée. Now, what the hell was she to do, go along and play act? She gazed at Jake, unsure of what to say.

  “Jake, you don’t have to explain to me. I’m not—” Before she could finish, Marcus slid his arm around her waist and reeled her in close against his heat and she closed her mouth.

  “No, you
don’t have to explain to Ella. She’s been around me long enough and knows about my past. And that’s exactly what it is—the past.” Pulling her chin toward him, he ran his finger along Ella’s bottom lip as he stared over at Jake.

  “Okay, 007…oops, didn’t mean to let that slip out, sorry.” His boyish grin revealed a dimple and gleaming white teeth.

  Marcus sighed. Ella, still entranced with the conversation between the two powerful men, laughed, staring at Jake and then Marcus, taking in his sigh as he removed his hand from her chin.

  “Is that your nickname? Seven. Well, I thought it might be a number referring to your many conquests, but it doesn’t seem high enough from what I’ve heard.” She smirked up at Marcus deliberately ignoring the double o and slapped her hand across his chest hard.

  He didn’t bat an eye but lowered his head and stared into her bright blue eyes as he wondered exactly how many conquests she had made. A frown crossed his face, not liking where his mind was taking him, but he kissed the tip of her nose and squeezed her tighter and refused to release her.

  “Ha, she does know you. Well, he’s had a bunch of names: Casanova, heartbreaker, sex god, but none he would answer to until he was caught drinking a medium dry martini. The guys ripped into him about that and from then on, it was 007 or Bond, James Bond. He looks like one of those suave dudes who play the spy, and I think he’s slept with as many as the character does, if not more.” Jake shrugged and watched Ella’s face.

  This time, she wasn’t sure whether he was trying to goad her or get some type of reaction and she tapped her lip with her finger.

  “Cut it out, Jake.” Marcus frowned at him. Ella said nothing.

  “You said she knew all about your past, bro.” Jake pretended to punch Marcus’s arm again. The boys eyeballed each other until Ella broke the trance.

  “I didn’t know his nickname until now, so thanks, Jake. He doesn’t reveal much about himself, but we all have a past, don’t we? It’s what makes him who he is and I love him regardless.” Ella reached up and kissed Marcus gently on the lips and hugged him.

  Marcus lowered his hand down her back and squeezed her ass.

  She wanted to slap him but remained stoic, staring at Jake, who she couldn’t make out at all.

  “Look, we need your help. Sorry to bring it to your doorstep, but I had no choice. Ella needs to sleep. Is there somewhere she can put her head down for a while?”

  She struggled against his hold, not wanting to be sent to bed like a little child. Ella wanted to stay and listen to whatever Marcus wanted to say to Jake in private, but he tilted her chin to face him.

  “Yesterday was exhausting and today is going to be just the same. You need to rest and besides, I need to catch up with Jake…Ella.” He stared down into her eyes, willing her to play along before he released her chin and his hold around her waist as he waited for her response.

  It was almost as if he expected her to fight him and because of that, she thought it would be best to give in and comply. Maybe it was better to play his game for a while.

  Absentmindedly, he tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “Please...” he whispered.

  With that, she gave a quick smile, pecked him on the cheek and yawned.

  “I am actually really tired. A bed or a sofa would be great.” Her face was still pointed at Marcus but she knew Jake watched the scene with more than idle curiosity.

  “Sure, follow me. I have a spare room. It’s nothing special, but it’s clean.” He walked down the short carpeted hallway. Ella stepped away from Marcus and was about to follow Jake, who disappeared from view, but Marcus grabbed her hand and tugged her back.

  “I need to talk to him and you’re beat…Ella…can I trust you not to run?” Staring at her, his face tensed and a puzzled expression broke out, as if he were trying to figure out what she was thinking.

  She ran her hand through her tousled shoulder-length hair and yawned.

  “You wouldn’t get far. I’m trusting you… I don’t want to have to handcuff you to the bed, but I will.”

  Red angry blotches bloomed across her cheeks; she turned sharply away and pulled her hand away, storming off. Damn him. She’d give him “handcuffed to the bed.” Her plan took shape.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The room that Jake led her to was tucked away at the back of the house. As Ella walked into the moderately sized room and stared around, she noted that it was neat and painted in a neutral magnolia with few personal possessions adorning the place, but in the middle was a humongous king-sized mahogany and wrought-iron bed. Jake pointed at the door in the corner.

  “There’s a shower in through that door if you’d like one. Forgive my comments earlier about Marcus but he was always with a different girl and we’ve been through so much shit together it’s second nature to joke around.”

  Ella stared at the huge bed, and then glanced toward the shower. Seconds ticked by and suddenly she realized that Jake was still there, expecting some sort of reply. A hot shower would be bliss. “Jake, you don’t need to explain anything to me. What’s your nickname?” She turned her glance directly on him, raising her eyebrows as she sat down and bounced up and down on the comfy mattress. All the while, she watched the SEAL’s expression as he stood still and watched her with his arms folded. He quickly moved to stand right in front of her, and he crouched low. His face was shut off to any emotion and his eyes were unblinking as they pinned on her.

  “They call me the Gateway, and I guess it’s why you’re both here. Just so you know, Ella, Marcus is one of the few people I call a friend. I trust him with my life. Being in the SEALs does that to you. There’s a code and it goes way beyond the missions. Seeing as you know him so well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that he’s the type of guy who’ll defend his team and put their needs before his own. There’s little I wouldn’t do for the guy. So be sure you know which side you’re on, little lady. He’s not someone you want as an enemy, because he’ll hunt you down and he never gives up.” His face was inches from hers, and his baby features were masked in a razor-sharp expression of suspicion.

  The door creaked and in strode Marcus.

  “Jake…give it a rest. We need to talk, and it’s late. Leave Ella to sleep.” Marcus grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room.

  Ella released the breath she was holding. Wow, he was intense. She stared at their retreating figures and sighed. Jake wasn’t fooled one bit by Marcus’s show in the other room. Jake was worried about his friend and he knew that she was the reason Marcus wanted his help. She sighed. Just being with Marcus made him a target, as well as her. The last thing she wanted was anyone else getting killed. Back at the house before it had burnt down, she had managed to retrieve her amulet. She lifted the gold bracelet out of her pocket; the stones glinted in the light a rainbow of colors. Her neatly trimmed fingers lifted the clasp. Inside lay the precious key. She closed the locket and snapped the cuff on her wrist. A quick shower and she would leave. Damn Marcus. Who the hell did he think he was? She was not his fiancée or his possession. She was his prisoner. They were not a team, but enemies, and she needed to remember that because at the end of the day, he was going to hand her over to the authorities. She did not know who scared her more: him or the Elusti. They were both deadly.

  “Argh.” Peeling off her borrowed clothes, she let them drop to the floor and headed for the shower. Any hesitation about carrying out her quickly-thought-out plan disappeared after hearing Jake’s words. Her plan would work; all she needed to do was stay focused.

  The steaming water pummeled against her supple skin, easing the residual aches, and now she lay in the bed, covered with a crisp white sheet and wearing only her skimpy underwear and a white lacy bra. The plan was simple. She was going to seduce him. Ella tried to resist the hypnotic lure of sleep, but after the warmth of the hot shower, and lying now on the comfortable mattress, her well-used muscles softened and relaxed. Her eyelids grew heavy and fluttered as she struggled to stay aw
ake. Just then the door clicked open; a small light filtered in and disappeared as the door closed. Marcus crept into the room and slipped into the en suite.

  Ella was suddenly wide awake. Her heart skipped beats as she waited for him to finish. She licked her lips as the minutes ticked by. She had never actually seduced anyone before, but reasoned it should be easy enough to do with a man like Marcus. When his body had been pressed up against hers, she had felt his growing desire for her. Her touch affected him much in the same way as his did her. Smiling, her heart stalled as the tap from the shower squeaked off. The door fanned open, and steam billowed out. She blinked and stared as his smoldering gaze landed on her. He stood in the doorway like a Greek god surrounded in the clouds, and wrapped in a virgin white towel. Ella stared, unable to swallow or breathe or do anything except stare. His wet blue-black hair was slicked back, and his face was damp and newly shaved, showing his flawless olive skin. His body glistened from the steam, and she gazed at his muscled and toned abdomen that was covered in a dark smattering of hair that tapered down toward narrow hips. Together with his taut biceps, he created a powerful male picture of perfection.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” His voice was low and smooth as his hand rubbed his wet hair.

  Ella swallowed an imaginary lump in her throat and watched in total fascination. Solid muscles rippled across his chest and abdomen; there wasn’t an inch of fat on his body anywhere. As he dried himself with a smaller towel, Ella’s gaze roamed over his physique, and fell to his waist where the towel was loosely secured. Butterflies danced around in her tummy. Her insides melted like liquid gold and she could not stop drooling over him. She clenched her legs together to stop the throb that was building between her legs.

  Marcus moved closer to the edge of the bed.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said huskily.