Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  “Cheeky,” I laugh. “Show me around, Ollie. I’ve not seen this place in years.” I take his hand in mine and we begin walking back around to the front.

  “Have to be quick though, princess. Bill told me this morning, that the owner is heading down here today to see how everything’s coming along.”

  We reach the front of the house, where it seems busiest. More people have arrived to move what seems like a lot of expensive furniture into the mansion.

  He looks at me. “Anyway, I didn’t know that you had ever even been over here.”

  “Yeah. When I was a little kid, my auntie Jean brought me over here for a party her boss was throwing. I was only about six or something. It was for his little girl, I think. I don’t remember much about it, except that I didn’t know anyone and felt really awkward.” I look around me with a smile.

  “But the thing that sticks in my mind was how lovely it was here. It’s like another world or something. I don’t know if it’s the scenery or the sound of the waves against the shore so close to the house—or a combination of the two—but I feel so calm here.” I snuggle closer to him, his arm tight against my waist.

  “Oh, so your aunt must have had a good job then, eh, getting invited to the big boss’s parties. You’re not the poor girl you made yourself out to be, are you?” Ollie says with a wry smile and a chuckle.

  We stop in front of the big oak front door and I playfully slap his arm. “Hey. I never said I was a poor girl. I’m a well-refined young lady, I’ll have you know.”

  “Ow! Oh yes, very refined,” he laughs. “Do you want to see the plans for the entertaining garden?”

  I would do anything to spend more time with this man.

  I sigh contentedly. “Yeah, go on then.”

  Over to the right of the main entrance, a small archway leads back around to the other side of the building. As we go up the small incline, it begins to flatten out. The ground underfoot is rocky but flowers bloom up as far as the eye can see. They even come up and out between the rocks under our feet. It’s awe-inspiring, like a magical secret garden. The noise from all the people working around the house doesn’t reach into this area. The only sounds I can hear are nature: bees, birds, and the breeze in the trees. Colours are blooming all around me, their sweet floral scent filling my nose. The trees stand tall and proud, their leaves a mixture of greens and golden browns. They lean over gracefully, and shade areas around the house.

  Further out I see the start of the forest; it’s deep, dark, and alive with nature. Off to the left of us is a small courtyard area with a table and chairs and paperwork set upon it. Ivy grows along the walls of the house, thick and green, knitting itself into every available crevice.

  My eyes are wide with excitement. “Oh, Ollie, I told you it was like another world here. I have to do a painting for the reception area at the school. Can I paint this? As it is, though?” My stomach tickles in excitement. “Sorry, I know you have a bit of tidying up to do of it and it’s going to look amazing when you’ve finished. But I’d love to paint it as it is. I just love the freedom and the unruliness of it.”

  I twirl around in a circle like a five year old, giggling as I reach for my pads and pencils from my satchel.

  Oliver pulls me in closer, his eyes saddening. “Yeah, of course, but you’re going to have to be quick. The owner, Mr Breckt, sent an email yesterday, saying that he wants the entire lot here pulled up.” Oliver gestures around us both.

  I stare open mouthed at him as he continues. “He hated the original plans. In fact, most of the work that he wants done is flattening everything out and doing some very clinical, stylised designs. Bill has had to go back into town to drag out some old designs we did a while back for the hospital gardens. They seem more the type of thing that he’s after. Let me show you.”

  We reach the table where Oliver has his designs laid out. They show neat garden borders around the expanse of the mansion. Most of the flowers have been taken out, with the exception of some lavender plants and a small herb garden near the kitchen area. The overgrown trees have been chopped down, leaving no shading whatsoever.

  The air leaves me in a rush, and sadness creeps in. I’m thankful that the forest is on protected land. I have a feeling that the new owner would have chopped everything down if he could have gotten away with it.

  The wildness that envelops the garden now will be gone, replaced by simple and contained bushes. I can see that Oliver has tried to make the best of the plans with what he’s been restricted to, but I hate them.

  He raises his eyebrows at me. “I know, I know, you don’t need to say it. Compared to what it could be, it’s awful. It’s the best we can come up with so far. The owner said he wants to be able to see the ocean from as many angles of the house as possible. I think he would have torn out the forest if he could.”

  I knew it. I pout.

  “He doesn’t like plants at all judging by what he wants us to do.” Oliver throws up his hands in exasperation. “I’m working with what we’ve got though. It’s such a shame. I had some great ideas for this place. It could have been amazing.” He looks off into the distance. “Seriously, it’s like the guy hates anything natural,” he adds.

  I feel so sorry for him. He’s been looking forward to this job for weeks and has worked so hard on the plans.

  As if on cue, a man steps out from the shadows of a side doorway—a doorway that up until that moment, I hadn’t even noticed. He’s young and handsome, with a chiselled, firm jaw, and perfectly shaped mouth. His hair is dark and thick, styled and yet unruly, as if unwilling to be tamed. He’s of medium height and build, but in the suit and tie that he’s wearing, he commands everyone’s attention.

  Or perhaps it’s those mesmerising eyes that have me entranced. I know I need to stop staring, but I am drowning in them. They are so piercing and vibrant that they seem unreal.

  “On the contrary, I’m quite fond of all things natural and beautiful.” I jump at the sound of his voice.

  His eyebrows rise as he takes in the scene with a leisurely gaze. His eyes find Oliver’s and he looks at him with a wonky smirk. Something about his smile makes him even more endearing, and I blush and look away.

  Another man accompanies him, and I’m taken aback by his enormity. A T-shirt stretches over his incredible muscles, and its black colour reflects against the darkness of his skin. A blank expression covers his face as he stands three steps behind the first man. I can only assume the sharply dressed man is the new owner, Mr Breckt. He’s also the same man that I had seen drive by our apartment this morning. I roll my eyes, glad that he didn’t hear Rachael whistling at him.

  He’s like an Adonis, and I’m finding it hard to look away again when Oliver grips my hand, breaking my stare. I blush furiously, embarrassed and ashamed by how attractive I find him. He seems to ooze sexiness and sophistication, and seems so confident and relaxed with himself.

  What did he expect to get by moving here? This isn’t the sort of place for someone like him; he would belong better on a catwalk or in a catalogue than in our tiny little town of ‘Nowhereville.’

  “My name is Robert Breckt. Your name, my sweetness, would be?” He ignores Oliver and steps closer to me. His shadow falls across my face as his closeness invades me. My breath snags in my throat as I try to find my words.

  His voice is soft and even, as the words roll off his tongue in a commanding tone. He looks down at me, his gaze sweeping over my face and body, and I feel shy, as if I’m being undressed where I stand.

  Oliver steps forward to my rescue, looking unsure of himself for a change, but holding out a firm hand to Mr Breckt. I notice his other hand is still clasping mine tightly.

  “Mr Breckt, this is my girlfriend—well, my fiancée, Mia Lawrence. She was just bringing me my lunch. I’m sorry for the interruptions. I…erm, I was just showing her the plans you had decided upon for the gardens.” His hand is still lingering in the air between them both.

  Mr Breckt looks from Oli
ver to myself and finally takes the offered hand, giving it a brisk shake. “So then, beautiful Mia, what do you think of my plans?” He doesn’t look away from me, his mouth turned up in a confident smile. His full lips part to reveal perfect white teeth. He truly is ridiculously gorgeous, I decide, and I feel myself getting lost in his deep green eyes once more.

  My palms are sweaty and I absently pull my hand from Oliver’s and wipe it on my leg. “Yes. Yes, they’re very lovely.”

  What?

  I still cannot look away from those eyes, and he smiles wider, fully aware of the effect he is having on me. I’m sure he is sucking the air straight out of my lungs as my heart thumps in my chest.

  “But?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

  “But?” I ask back, before realising that he wants me to give more of an answer. “I, erm, I would have preferred more colour.” I blurt out in a panic. “Yes, it’s not very colourful is it?”

  And again . . . what?

  I can feel Oliver staring at me.

  More colour. What are you, five? But hey, it’s not as if I can tell him that I hated his plans.

  Mr Breckt is obviously amused by my ramblings. “More colour you say?” he smirks.

  “Yes,” I whisper. I’m shocked that I can get any words out at all. And I am acutely aware that Oliver is staring at us both. He seems both dumbfounded by my response to his employer and furious by the interest his employer is showing me. Shame once again sweeps over me like a tidal wave.

  However, no matter how shameful I feel, I simply cannot stop my reactions. My eyes stray to his lips. God I’d like to kiss those lips. I lick my own lips, feeling beyond thirsty.

  Mr Breckt smiles at me and I have an odd feeling that he knows what I’m thinking, as he too licks his lips. He casually looks over to Oliver and then back to me again, as if assessing the situation. He looks young, but not too young. He couldn’t be more than thirty years old and yet he has the money and ability to buy this place. I feel awe and respect for him.

  “More colour?” he repeats, the humour still in his voice.

  “Yes.” Oh god, I feel stupid.

  “Well, more colour it is, then,” his voice is silky smooth. “Well . . .” he looks at Oliver, “the lady thinks our plans are dull, it seems. Is she always this demanding?” he asks, obviously not expecting an answer. He gazes around him and then bends down to examine the plans laid out.

  “What is your favourite colour, beautiful Mia?” He looks up at me through his dark lashes and my heart skips a beat.

  “Mine?” Where’s this going?

  “Yes.” He smiles again. “Yours.”

  “Erm… I guess blue. Or purple,” I stammer.

  He looks to Oliver now. “Well then.” He points on the plans to the courtyard area we are standing in and a grassed area to the left of us. “These two areas will be the beautiful Mia’s gardens. Plant her some Columbine and some Delphiniums and perhaps some Campanula Punctatas. He looks back to me.

  “Would that be to your liking, Mia?”

  I nod noncommittally. Since I have no idea what any of those flowers look like, I truly cannot comment. Mr Breckt huffs, his lips twitching in the trace of a frown, and I feel panic that I may have offended him.

  “Sounds beautiful,” I add. There’s that word again, beautiful.

  Oliver’s jaw is clenched tight. Oh, he’s pissed. I wonder if it’s because I’m practically drooling at this handsome stranger or the fact that he keeps calling me ‘beautiful Mia’? Oliver has always been overprotective and jealous. If ever a situation called for his masculinity, this would be it.

  “Well then, I think we have it all covered for now.” Mr Breckt states rather than asks. “If you can start that right away,” he straightens back up and adds. “As a priority. We don’t want to keep the lovely lady waiting now, do we? We know how demanding she can be.”

  Oliver’s jaw is grinding and I watch him struggle to control himself. His words are short and clipped. “Of course, Mr Breckt.”

  His eyes dart from me to Mr Breckt. Oliver, it seems, is back. I look down at my feet, acutely aware of how I’ve gotten myself into this situation. Definitely the drooling.

  Damn it. What the hell has gotten in to me?

  If Mr Breckt notices Oliver’s tone, he doesn’t let on. Or he simply doesn’t care enough to warrant him with a response.

  “Come, I shall take you back to your car, Mia. I assume that you are finished here.” He holds out his hand to me.

  I stare at it and then look to Oliver. This isn’t going to go down well, and who can blame him.

  Oliver fumbles with his words for a second or two before piping in, his cheeks glowing red. “I umm, I’ll walk her back to her car, Mr Breckt. She’s my fiancée after all.” His reply comes from anger and not embarrassment. He takes my hand and pulls me close to his side possessively.

  I notice he’s standing taller, his head held high and shoulders pushed back. I can’t help but feel pleased that he’s standing up for me, for us. Especially since I seem to be playing the villain in our relationship at this moment in time, but I’m not sure now is the right time to be doing it. This is his employer—what harm can it do to let him walk me back to my car?

  Or maybe I’m disheartened that I won’t be spending any more time with Mr Breckt? I am a bad, bad girlfriend.

  I mentally shake my head and tut at my behaviour. There’s a name for girls like me, but it’s as if my mind and body are not my own right now.

  Mr Breckt’s smile turns up higher as he steps closer to me. He looks over to Oliver. “Don’t be silly. You have work to do, boy. Come with me, beautiful Mia.”

  He smells clean, fresh—with a masculine and musky undertone—as he comes closer. He reaches for my other hand and lifts it to his mouth. He places a soft kiss on the back of it; his parting lips leave a warm patch in their place. His eyes linger on me for too long. I feel woozy under his gaze, and then as I look him in the eye I feel myself drowning once again. The sweet scents of vanilla and clove wash over me, wiping out all my other senses. Warmth begins in a slow trickle in the pit of my stomach, building up as the heat spreads out, travelling up and down my body. A pleased smile breaks out on his face, and he looks even more attractive than seems physically possible for one person.

  Oliver’s voice is quiet behind me. “Mia?” I can feel him tugging gently on my other hand.

  Mr Breckt looks from me to Oliver again. He gives a casual glance over to the larger man behind him as a sigh escapes his mouth. His breathe washes over my face. A haze falls about me and I feel the air grow heavy under its weight. Taking a deep breath, I feel my chest tightening, forcing me in turn to take a deeper lungful than the last. Heat flushes my insides, washing between my thighs, and I sigh at the sensation of it all. I am acutely aware that I am standing here holding my boyfriend’s hand whilst his employer is holding my other.

  I feel guilty, hot, flustered, and—absurdly—really turned on by it all. How is this possible? Am I dreaming?

  Oliver’s voice is strong and insistent. “Mia?” he asks again.

  I can hear the hurt in it and guilt surges through me. I close my eyes in shame and pull my hand free from Mr Breckt’s grasp.

  A ghost of a frown eclipses Mr Breckt’s face.

  “Mia, I would love to spend some time with you.” His voice is barely a whisper, and I struggle with my breathing. A thick condensation has wormed its way down my windpipe, and I hang on his every word like a lovesick teenager.

  “But not today, I guess.” He turns on his heel and leaves, his bodyguard following closely behind. With every step away from me, I feel the condensation dissipate. My senses come back to me. I can’t hide the shame from my face as I look to Oliver with tears in my eyes.

  “Ollie?” I don’t know what else to say. Words evade me.

  What the hell just came over me?

  Oliver looks at me with those big beautiful brown eyes, now full of hurt and anger. “I’ll take you to your car,
Mia.”

  My playful Oliver is lost for the day and he grips my hand tighter and leads me around the building to my car. He stops only when we get there to hold the door open for me. I climb inside to find it’s as hot as an oven. My hands tremble as I hold back the tears, which are threatening to slide down my cheeks at any moment.

  “I’ll see you tonight.” His words are flat as he tries to shut the door on me.

  “Wait…I’m so sorry, Ollie. I don’t know what just happened. You know that I love you, I…” My words trail off as he bends down at the side of the car and takes my hand once more. Kissing it, he looks up at me.

  “I love you too.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what that was. But I know it wasn’t you. Or maybe it was.” He shakes his head again.

  “No…no, it wasn’t me. I told you, I don’t know what happened.”

  His forehead rests heavily on my knees and the tears begin trailing down my face.

  “I’ve never wanted to hit someone so much in all my life. I don’t know how I didn’t. I know that you deserve more than I can give you, Mia, but trust me when I say I’m working on it…”

  “Ollie, stop it.” I stifle back a miserable sniffle and run my hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry.” What else can I say?

  “I don’t know how I didn’t end up punching him,” Oliver mutters under his breath. “Or why I didn’t.”

  I know. It was because he needs this job for us. For our wedding.

  However, even while I’m here clutching Oliver’s head in my lap, my thoughts are straying back to Mr Breckt and his beautiful eyes, and I let out an involuntary sob.

  “Hey, don’t do that.” He looks up and thumbs the tears away from my face, leaning in to kiss my mouth. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  He smiles and shuts the door. The playfulness from my arrival is most definitely well and truly gone. Instead, he now stands sad and perhaps a little bit broken by my betrayal. “I love you,” he mouths silently to me through the glass.

  I smile back sadly, but Bitch is all I can think as I drive away.