by Неизвестный
"Holy shit." He gasped and looked around the room. "I don’t believe it."
Colette helped him to a dining room chair then went to the sink and filled a glass with cold water. She grabbed a dishtowel and dishrag from a nearby drawer. After wetting and squeezing out the dishrag, she turned to face him. "I would appreciate it if you’d forget this ever happened."
"What are you?" he asked again.
She couldn’t ignore his question this time. Unfortunately, her powers wouldn’t let her erase a mortal’s memory.
She walked over and set the glass down on the table in front of him, then held out the wet cloth. "Let’s try to get you cleaned up a little."
"Are you some kind of witch?"
She set the rag down and looked at him. "You believe in witches?"
He shrugged. "They used to burn witches in Salem. I figured history can’t be that wrong."
She picked up the rag again then leaned over and dabbed at the drying blood on his lower lip. She’d tell him, then tomorrow she’d have to move to another town ... again. "Many of my ancestors were burned in Salem."
He laughed. "I knew it!" After taking a sip of the water she’d given him, he leaned forward, grimacing as he clutched his side. "So, what does your necklace have to do with anything?"
"I’m only half witch." She pulled out the chair and sat next to him. She noticed for the first time how blue his eyes were, and if his face didn’t look like it had slammed into a locomotive he’d be quite handsome. "My grandmother married a mortal."
"What kind of powers do half witches have?"
"My sisters and I each wear a dragon necklace." She brushed the tip of her finger over it. "This is what gives us our powers."
"What kind of powers?"
"Nothing bad, if that’s what you’re asking."
His forehead creased. "But you threw those men into the wall. That wouldn’t be considered a good act."
"No, I pushed them off me. The wall just happened to be there to break their fall."
She studied him. The wheels of curiosity churned in his narrowed eyes. She’d have to get him back home before he asked too many questions.
"Let’s say you wanted to set someone’s house on fire. Could your necklace do that?"
She chuckled. "No, I’d have to do it with my own hands."
He smiled through his cracked lip. "And if you wanted to rob a bank?"
"My necklace wouldn’t let me. I’d have to do it myself. I can only do good things while using the power of the necklace."
His battered hand slid across the table and covered hers. "Could you make people fall in love with you?"
Her heart dropped. That was one power she had no control over. All the women in her family were naturally sensual.
"No, the necklace can’t do that ... not really."
"But it can help?"
She shrugged. "Depends on how I use it. It’s meant for only good or to bring people happiness."
His grin widened then he flinched and touched the open cut that began to bleed again.
"Mister, we really need to get you to a hospital."
"My name is John Robinson." His gaze rested on her again. "Can’t you heal me? After all, it’s for good."
Her heart sank. She knew this would happen. Although she didn’t reveal her powers to everyone she’d met, for those she did, they used her afterwards. Would she ever learn?
With a nod, she stood and moved beside him. His dark gaze dropped to her breasts, and she tried not to let the obvious lust in his eyes affect her. Taking his hand in hers, she helped him to stand. Closing her eyes, she touched her necklace. Warmth spread from her body to his. She flinched with each pain he’d suffered tonight, making it disappear within his body. Within moments the physical drain of healing him washed over her, weakening her slightly.
She opened her eyes and was struck by the sight of him, renewed. Built like a Greek God, his muscles fascinated her, as did his extremely handsome face. Without thinking, she reached out and touched his smooth jaw, now free from bruises and cuts. This time when he smiled, his lips did not crack.
"You’re an angel, not a witch," he whispered.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you’ve made a married man fall in love with you."
Her heart dropped. "You’re married?"
He nodded. "And I have a teenage son."
She lowered her gaze to the floor. "I’m ... sorry--"
"Don’t be. You’re exactly what I need right now."
When he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body, she resisted, but his mouth covered hers in a tender kiss. Sighing, it relieved her that he wasn’t one of those aggressive men. Besides, she wouldn’t see him again after this. And after all--perhaps this kiss was what she needed, also.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her breasts against his rock hard chest. She relaxed and enjoyed the way his mouth molded to hers, the way his tongue slipped inside and caressed. She copied his actions.
His hand wandered from her back to her waist, then up to brush by her breast. It moved up from her chest to her neck. The gentle stroke of his fingers relaxed her.
Then her nose twitched again and her body froze. Something bad is going to happen--again.
Before she could pull away, his hand tightened around her necklace and yanked. He shoved her backwards. She stumbled against the table and fell into the chair. Gasping, she touched her neck, now naked without her necklace.
John’s eyes glowed brightly like the Devil’s. Greed and the lust for power flickered over his face as he grasped her heirloom.
"Please, John. Give it back to me."
He smiled triumphantly. "With this necklace, I can control you, can’t I?"
"Please, John, don’t do this."
He laughed and fear made her stomach roll.
"My dear witch, I have many things planned for the two of us."
Colette stood, her hands balled into fists by her side. "My necklace won’t allow me to do anything bad."
He shook his head. "That’s not what I have planned."
She scowled. "What, then?"
His smiled stretched further, his eyes twinkling with greed again. "I have a friend I want you to meet. You’ll make him a good wife, and his wealth will support my future endeavors." He dragged his gaze back to her. "My sweet seductress, you and I are going to become very good friends."
His laughter rang out through the house. Colette was doomed.
CHAPTER ONE
Ten years later
He watched her.
Just like they all watched her. Wondering. Suspecting. Waiting for the moment they could catch her.
They never would.
Ms. Colette Carmichael brushed the curtain aside and gazed through her second-story bedroom window as the Senator’s son spied her from his lounge chair near the pool. Adrian Robinson stared up, seeming aware of her, despite the others who had gathered for the party. She turned her back to the window, hoping to appear unaffected, but his interest made excitement tingle over her skin. She grinned, already enjoying the game more than she’d thought.
Now for the show.
Peeking over her shoulder, Colette made sure he was the only one watching. Lifting her nylon-clad leg to the cushioned stool, she gave her watcher an eyeful. She rolled her thigh-high stocking down to her ankle, stroking her leg before tossing the garment on the floor.
After removing her other stocking in a similar slow manner, she straightened and turned her back to the window. Still holding the one stocking, she ran her hands down the side of her legs and bent to retrieve the discarded nylon, giving her peeping Tom down by the pool a full shot of her black thong panties.
After flipping her stockings in the clothes hamper, she reached behind to unlatch her black lace bra, and then paused. He still watched. His heated gaze nearly left an imprint on her flesh.
Shrugging, she let the straps slip down to her elbows. With one hand over her breasts, sh
e held the bra in place to keep from revealing too much. She glanced at the partying Harvard graduates--especially the dark-haired man who withdrew his gaze in a hurry. Pulling on the string, she closed the curtains, hiding herself so she could finish changing into her swimsuit.
Roger, her late husband’s nephew, had arranged the party with his friends. When he mentioned his best friend was coming, Colette jumped at the chance to meet Adrian Robinson. She hoped Roger hadn’t detected her eagerness.
From her bedroom, what she could see of Adrian’s dark hair, bountiful muscles, and towering height, confirmed that he resembled his father. Was the boy’s personality anything like his father’s?
Boy? She chuckled as she dropped her bra and slid her thong down her legs. The man by the pool was not even close to being a boy. Sure, he was probably no more than ten years younger than her, but he was no boy.
Holding up her black swimsuit, she smiled. Although it resembled a modest one-piece, the Italian-made bathing suit was far from plain. It barely covered her nipples and the small triangle of hair between her legs, but the see-through sheer black material that made up the remainder of the suit made men turn and stare.
She checked herself in the mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, she slipped into her black high heels, grabbed her sunglasses and suntan lotion, and proceeded downstairs. Pushing open the glass patio doors, she walked out, her heels clicking in rhythm on the cement walkway.
As she neared the pool, Roger’s friends stopped and gaped. She hid the grin tempting to sneak across her mouth. Although these men were twenty-five or older, at this moment they all resembled high-school boys. Even the women stared at her, but their perfectly waxed eyebrows arched in annoyance. Colette wasn’t immune to that look, either.
She stopped in front of the group and propped her hand on the slight curve of her hip. "Hello, Roger. I hope you don’t mind if I take in some sun with you and your friends."
"Of course not." Roger turned back to his group. "This is my Aunt Colette."
"Are you Roger’s friends from college?" she asked.
The mixed group of seven men and women stood awe-struck. The men nodded, mouths opened wide as moisture popped across their foreheads. The young women glared at her with a frown.
She greeted the man closest to her. "What’s your name, handsome?"
"Tony," he squawked. She held in her laugh. She was used to younger men acting this way around her. Although most had heard the ugly rumors, they still wanted to get to know her--in a physical sense. Usually, she didn’t oblige them.
She moved away from Tony and crouched down, leaning toward the gorgeous man in the pool--Adrian--the man who had watched her earlier. The one she wanted to know better. "And who are you?"
His elbows rested on the edge of the pool, his feet kept him afloat. He swiped the excess water from his eyes. She leaned forward. His gaze dropped to her breasts. His jaw hardened and the corded muscles in his neck tightened, then immediately his attention bounced back up to her sunglasses.
He smiled. "I’m Adrian Robinson."
She pulled back slightly, placing a hand on her chest. "Are you Senator John Robinson’s son?"
His charming expression faltered. Did she see right? Was he embarrassed by being the son of such a powerful man?
He hesitated before answering. "Yes."
She smiled. "It’s a pleasure to meet you. My husband knew your father quite well." Unfortunately, so did I.
"Really?"
"Yes, but it was quite a while ago. We’ll have to chat more at another time." She pulled down her sunglasses just enough to give him a wink. He nodded but his forehead creased.
She spent a few moments chatting with some of Roger’s other friends, then walked over to a lounge chair and sat. She kicked off her heels and slid her legs up on the chair, basking like a cat in the sun. But this cat knew what she was doing. This wasn’t the first time she used her talent for seducing--but with any luck, it would be the last.
She flipped open the lid to the suntan lotion. Within seconds, three of Roger’s friends were by her side, volunteering to put it on her bare back. Too bad it wasn’t the man she wanted for the task. She could almost feel his large hands upon her, touching her arms and her legs. A shiver ran over her skin.
From behind her sunglasses, she watched with interest as Adrian dove under the water. His long, lean body moved expertly with the waves as if he were a professional swimmer. Not only was he handsome like his father, but he had the physique his father had been proud of so many years ago.
But John had blackmailed her into doing what he wanted. The pimp! If only she could find a way to be free of his hold. He was the only person who knew her secret, and his threats had worked.
She clenched her teeth against the memory. He had ruined her life. He’d made her like this. Now he’d have to deal with what she wanted to do with him ... and his son. Revenge would be hers--just as soon as she became better friends with Adrian.
With a flip of her hand, she dismissed her nephew’s friends. Threading her fingers through her thick hair, she lifted the mass, letting it run through her fingers as it fell down her back. Stretching her legs in front of her, she lay back on the chair.
Still keeping an eye on the handsome Adonis playing water volleyball, she couldn’t stop herself from admiring John’s son. His muscles flexed when he reached up to hit the ball, beads of water running off his skin like pearls on silk. His triumphant smile displayed lustrous white teeth, his grin making the dimple in his cheek deepen. Adrian Robinson was a real looker--just as his father had been, and she anticipated the game she’d play with him.
It wouldn’t be hard to make it happen. She noticed the way he watched her when she walked toward the pool. His lust-filled gaze caressed every inch of her body. She supposed he had mentally licked his way up to the panty line of her swimsuit. Surprisingly, she looked forward to the moment his body would worship hers in mindless passion.
Against her will, her nipples rose with eagerness and she cursed her responsive body. It was the senator’s fault for turning her into the woman she was today. But now she was satisfied to sit back and watch.
Watch and wait.
And scheme.
Her nephew’s ring of laughter disturbed her thoughts. He jumped into the pool. The cannonball dive splashed water on her and she sucked in a breath as she sat up in surprise. Pulling off her water-spotted sunglasses, she looked for something to wipe them on. Someone pushed a towel in front of her, and she glanced up into the deep sapphire eyes of Adrian Robinson.
"Will this help?" he asked, his voice husky and sensual.
"Yes, thank you."
She reached for the towel, but he pulled the cloth out of her grasp. His grin widened. "Here, allow me." He tugged her sunglasses out of her hold. The whispery caress of his fingers speared her skin like molten lava.
While he rubbed the towel against her glasses, he kept his gaze locked on hers, looking away only long enough to glance at his handiwork. His brows knitted in concentration before he raised the shades to his lips. When they parted and he breathed softly on the glasses, his eyes met hers.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs. Just looking at him turned her on, but imagining his mouth and hot breath on her body cranked up the temperature inside her a little higher.
She lay back on the chair, crossing her arms behind her head. His attention dropped to her breasts for a brief second, and excitement caused her nipples to pucker. She really shouldn’t be enjoying the subtle flirtations so much. After all, he was just a means to an end. By the rugged stubbornness of his jaw and the lift of his secretive grin, she knew what she wanted.
Her gaze wandered over his broad shoulders, down his lean chest and tight waist, lingering longer on his snug-fitting trunks. She seductively drew her tongue across her lips, knowing he watched.
Would it be wrong if she enjoyed her revenge to the fullest?
"Here you are, ma’am." He handed back her sunglasses.
He nodded.
Without another word, he turned and moved back to his friends in the pool. She liked the way the wet material molded his tight ass--cheeks made for sinking her teeth into.
He dove into the water, the muscular build of an athlete arched with precision.
She tore her stare from him long enough to glance around the pool. Roger’s other friends watched her with interest--and her nephew’s female friends eyed her with envy. Jealous fangs showed quite often whenever she was in a crowd. She didn’t want it--she didn’t ask for it. But the master had taught her how to dress and move to get whatever she wanted ... or in most cases, whomever he had wanted.
The playful scream of Roger, accompanied by the annoying giggles of the girls, told Colette it was time to leave and go back into the house. If she knew her nephew, roughhousing would soon follow. It seemed the whole group wanted to see who could dunk the most people.
She turned and lifted herself off the chair, preparing to leave. At that moment someone yelled in pain, and another person screamed, "Oh, shit!" She swung her head toward the pool. Silence had captured the group as all eyes stared at the person injured.
Adrian held his nose, lines of blood dripping between his fingers.
She ran to the side of the pool and helped him to the nearest lounge chair. "Roger, run up to the house and have Mae fix an ice pack. Quick."
She grabbed a towel and brought it to Adrian’s face. Trying to keep the situation under control, she stroked his forehead and gave him a smile. "Adrian, put pressure on it until it stops bleeding. Roger’s bringing the ice."
Adrian took the towel and pressed it gingerly to his nose. "Pinch the tip of your nose," she instructed.
His jaw hardened and she suspected his injury was more painful than he wanted others to think. She swiped his wavy, damp hair out of his face and soon his breathing slowed.
Within minutes Roger returned with two ice packs. Colette placed one on Adrian’s neck and the other just above his nose.