Under His Spell (Holiday Hearts #4)

by Kristin Hardy

  Lainie stood in a lamplit street in the old quarter of Salem, a flickering lantern in her hand. She wore a long grayish-tan skirt with the traditional white apron and cuffs of the puritan costume, a cloak slung over her shoulders. Her hair was braided into a demure twist on her head and covered in a mobcap.

  She’d always loved doing the ghost walks, but this time around it was hard to muster up much enthusiasm for it. She hadn’t really felt right all day. If she were honest, she hadn’t been feeling right since the last time she’d talked to J.J., two days before.

  She felt so distant from him, and it wasn’t just that it had been a week and a half since they’d seen each other. Things felt off, with no way to fix them.

  And under all of the uncertainty, she missed him fiercely.

  For now, though, she had a job to do, she reminded herself, turning to give the tour group a smile.

  “Our next stop is Templeton House. In 1710, Isaiah Templeton, a widowed merchant, lived in this house with his daughter, Hannah. Isaiah had lost his wife at Hannah’s birth, so he was highly protective of her, especially when it came to any men who might take her away from him.

  “And then one afternoon, she came down to bring Isaiah a message at the wharves and ran into a dashing young sea captain, Abel Vance. Hannah and Abel fell in love, nearly at first sight, or so their letters show,” Lainie said, warming to her tale. “Soon after, Vance asked Isaiah for her hand.

  “But Isaiah wasn’t about to let his daughter marry a sailor, a man who would take her far away from Salem. So Hannah and Vance made plans to steal away and marry. A storm came up on the night they were supposed to leave, though. A falling tree limb woke Isaiah so that he overheard Hannah tiptoeing down the stairs. And he guessed what was going on. He pulled out his pistol and locked her in her bedroom, and went in a fury to find Vance.

  “The young captain was standing at the wharf where he’d promised to meet Hannah. Historical records show it was pouring that night. Vance would have been drenched, barely able to see through the sheeting rain when Isaiah walked up to him and put a musket ball in his heart. A sailor who saw it said Vance dropped like a stone.”

  Lainie raised the lantern and led the group around the side of the house, where windows and a widow’s walk looked out over the harbor. “Then Isaiah turned to go back home, but all that was waiting for him was heartbreak. Hannah had tried to escape to warn her lover, you see.”

  Lainie pointed to the slate-blue house. “Look at the upper window. Hannah had opened it. They think she was trying to climb from the parapet outside to the widow’s walk, maybe hoping to escape to warn Vance. But between the rain and the wind, she slipped and fell to her death in the courtyard. And Isaiah found her there, bloody and broken.”

  Lainie raised her lantern so that it cast light over the front of the house. “People say that during a full moon, you can sometimes see a woman in the window. And if it is very, very quiet, you can hear a man sobbing in the courtyard when you pass by.”

  Lainie turned back to the tour. “And now, it’s time to—” The words stopped in her throat. At the back of the pack of people stood J.J., hands jammed in his pockets, eyes silvery in the moonlight.

  And adrenaline vaulted through her system.

  He was here, just feet away, wearing that special smile that was just for her. He was J.J., not the ski racer on the TV. She stared at him, drinking him in.

  The need to touch him was almost unendurable.

  Lainie knew she finished the tour because they walked up to the wrought iron gates of the witchcraft museum courtyard, but she didn’t remember a moment of it. She must have told the stories, because people smiled and nodded, but she hadn’t a clue. All she could concentrate on was J.J. All she could think about was him. After all the miles, all the days apart, he was here. And all she could do was want him.

  The hairs on the back of her neck prickling with awareness, Lainie led the way into the courtyard. “Well, that’s our tour.” She turned to smile at the group, her heart hammering. “Thank you for joining us. There’s hot cider inside the museum if you’d like to go in and warm up.”

  Normally, she’d go in and socialize with the people from the tour, help the staff hand out cider and cookies.

  Not tonight. She’d waited as long as she could. She wasn’t about to wait any longer. Expectantly, she turned to scan the courtyard. For a panicked moment she didn’t see J.J.; then she caught sight of him standing outside the gates. She walked over, conscious of every muscle and tendon moving in her body. She intended to say something casual, to play it cool. She saw the crooked smile on his lips.

  And the next thing she knew, she was in his arms, her mouth fused to his.

  Touch morphed into heat, heat morphed into hunger. Through the alchemy of desire, they were no longer J.J. and Lainie, but something together. And all the uncertainty she’d felt for days dissolved in the hard reality of his touch.

  It wasn’t fair that it felt so right. It wasn’t fair that even as she was losing him to his real life, she found herself needing him more and more. She knew how far apart they were, but it couldn’t stop her from responding to him. It couldn’t stop her from wanting.

  She pressed herself closer to him and sighed. “It’s good to see you,” she murmured.

  “It’s good to feel you,” he replied.

  She laughed. “When did you get in?”

  “Oh, about forty-five minutes ago.”

  “To your house?”

  “To Boston.” He slipped his hands beneath her cloak. “I came straight here.”

  She caught a breath. “Lucky me.”

  “No,” he said, his lips hovering a hairsbreadth from hers, “Lucky me.”

  “I’d have put down a couple of hundred bucks against you knowing how to turn on the stove, let alone cook,” Lainie mused as she stood behind J.J. and watched him stir eggs in a skillet.

  A pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips as he stood at the stove. “I’m not sure that scrambling eggs counts as cooking, but I’ll take the hundred bucks in trade, as long as it winds up being some sort of sexual favor.”

  “You haven’t had enough?”

  He turned and swept her to him. One minute she was blinking in surprise, the next he was kissing her thoroughly, his hands roving over her until her knees dissolved into water. “Does this feel like I’ve had enough?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Dinner first, round two after.”

  “I think we’re more like up to round five or six. And can you call it dinner when it’s 2:00 a.m.?”

  He divided the eggs onto two plates and added toast. “I can call it anything I want. I’m cooking. Besides, it’s dinnertime somewhere in the world.”

  “Hawaii, maybe.”

  “I’ll add pineapple.” He picked up the plates. “Into the living room, it’s more comfortable. So what’s been going on? I tried to catch you yesterday but I kept getting your voice mail.”

  “I went to see my parents in Burlington.”

  “I didn’t know you were going up there.”

  “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.” Because she had to get out of town, away from thoughts of J.J. “You must be excited about how the race went.”

  “It was a sweet win. I’ve been waiting on it for a while.” He handed her a plate.

  “Back in the saddle, so to speak?”

  “We’ll see how the season goes. I felt strong out there, but it’s the first downhill that’ll really show where things are.”

  “So, what…giant slalom is an old man’s sport?”

  “Easier than downhill, anyway.”

  “Isn’t almost everything?” She forked up a bite of eggs.

  He hesitated. “What did you think of the race?”

  “We had fun watching.”

  He shot her a look. “We?”

  “Elsie and the kids and George and his family came over,” she said, her voice elaborately casual. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  J.J
. closed his eyes briefly. “So, I guess you saw the awards ceremony.”

  “Part of it.”

  Better to tackle it now, he thought, no matter if she’d seen it or no. There was nothing to be gained by keeping his mouth shut. “The part where the trophy girl planted one on me, that part?”

  “Yeah.” She looked at him. “That part.”

  “It probably looked bad. It was just something that happened. It didn’t mean anything. You should know that.”

  “I didn’t figure it did.” She looked down at her plate a moment. “It bugged me. I know it shouldn’t have, but it did.”

  “I kind of thought it might, especially with everyone watching.”

  “I don’t care about people watching. I only care about you and me.”

  “Nothing happened,” he said.

  “I know,” she told him. “It was just hard. It was like you were some celebrity I didn’t even know.” She shook her head. “One of those things that goes with the territory, I guess.”

  That made him angry. “What territory, mine?”

  “Mine, in getting involved in this—” she moved her shoulders “—whatever it is.” She rose, carrying the plate, and headed for the kitchen.

  “Lainie.” He caught up with her. “Nothing happened. I didn’t ask for it.”

  “I know. I believe you.” And it was driving her crazy that she couldn’t make it stop bothering her. “But that’s kind of beside the point, isn’t it?”

  “What is the point?”

  She stared stubbornly at the worn linoleum on the floor. J.J. reached out and tipped her chin up so that she had to meet his eyes.

  “It’s the lifestyle you lead,” she said. “You’re in the spotlight. It’s wilder than here, I know. I just wasn’t expecting the whole kiss thing. Or how it made me feel.” She spoke slowly, choosing each word with exaggerated care. “It caught me by surprise.”

  “You know, I thought about you over there. A lot.”

  “J.J., you don’t have to throw me a bone to make me feel important.” Her reply was impatient. “It was just a little weird, that’s all. Nothing I won’t survive, nothing that I’m blaming you for.”

  “Then why do I feel like it?”

  She leaned against the kitchen counter and gave him a steady look. “It wasn’t the kiss. Well, maybe it was. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. But that’s part of your life, just like the women they showed with your name written on their foreheads. You live in a world where stuff like that happens.”

  “Only sometimes. Less often than you’d think.”

  “But often enough.” She bit her lip. “I looked into tickets, before the race,” she blurted.

  He stared at her. “Did you buy any?”

  “Not yet.”

  He tried to imagine what it would be like, waking up with her, getting a kiss for luck before the race. What would it be like, flying down the mountain to her, knowing she was there, waiting at the bottom? His feeling that parts of his life weren’t meshing anymore would finally abate. He caught at her hands. “Come over. I really want you there.”

  She swallowed. “I’ll try.”

  “Don’t try, do it.”

  “I will. Just maybe not right away. I might be starting a new job soon. Moving takes money and time.”

  “Whoa, back up,” he ordered. “Moving? You have a new job?”

  “Might,” she clarified. “Caro offered me a job in Manhattan.”

  J.J. blinked. “Caro, your boss?”

  “She just got a job at the Museum of Antiquities there. She’s allowed to hire an assistant. She wants it to be me.”

  “Excellent! Congratulations. Although you don’t sound all that happy about it.”

  Lainie hesitated. “I should be. Living in Manhattan, working at a world-class museum…it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  “But maybe not what you want now?”

  She turned back to the living room. “It’s a way to move up. I’d be in a better job, making more money and living in a city, finally. The city.”

  “I keep hearing a but in everything you say.”

  “I don’t know if there’s a but,” she flared. “If I’m smart, I’ll take it.”

  He nodded. “Have you told anybody here yet?”

  “Not yet. Caro just asked me last week. I said I’d let her know by Friday. She says if I don’t take it, she’ll recommend me as her replacement when she gives notice next week.”

  “So either way you win.”

  “Maybe. No guarantees. If I stay here, they may still decide to hire from outside, no matter what Caro says. But I’d be an idiot not to go with Caro.” She paced across the room.

  “When would you leave?”

  “I don’t know. A month, maybe.”

  He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “It won’t be the same,” he said abruptly.

  Lainie turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You not being here. It won’t be the same.”

  She snorted. “Why do you care? You’ll be long gone.”

  “I won’t be gone. I’ll just be away.”

  “Away? That’s not gone?”

  “Gone is permanent. Away is just being out of town for business.”

  “A seven-month business trip?”

  The flicker of humor in her voice gave him hope. “It doesn’t matter how long I’m gone. What matters is that home’s here.”

  “Eastmont’s still there. Your condo is still up by Gabe’s ski lodge. You’ve always got a home to go to.”

  “I suppose. Although, you know,” he said thoughtfully, “Manhattan could be cool.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A faint breeze rattled the last of fall’s leaves. Overhead, the full moon poured down silver light over the Salem town common and the torches and jack-o’-lanterns of the Halloween Festival. People streamed in from all directions, the children running to the midway rides, or dragging their parents along by the hand.

  A couple of teenagers dressed in full Goth regalia wandered by.

  J.J. leaned in toward Lainie. “Marilyn Manson has a lot to answer for.”

  “And I don’t even think they’re in costume,” she said.

  “I still say you should have rented the tavern wench outfit.”

  “You just wanted to see me in a low-cut blouse.”

  “Guilty as charged.” He pulled a strip of red tickets from his pocket. “I got ride passes in case you want to go on the Tunnel of Love and fool around.” He leered at her.

  “You men. You’re all sex maniacs.”

  “That’s not what you said this morning when you put my—”

  “There they are,” a voice boomed.

  Lainie jumped and turned to see George and his wife and daughters headed toward them.

  “Well, hey,” she said. “Welcome to the festival.”

  “Nice job, Lainie,” George said, looking around. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

  Music played from outdoor speakers. The mouthwatering scent of fried something-or-other drifted over to them from the food aisle. Opposite them, the crafts booths glittered with silver and gold jewelry, blown glass and dream catchers. Next to where they stood, the fountain was covered with two hundred jack-o’-lanterns. Lainie knew; she’d helped place every one of them.

  “Hey, we saw you win your race last weekend,” George said to J.J. “Nice going. I guess you’re a pretty famous guy.”

  J.J. winced. “I don’t think famous is it,” he muttered.

  “Congratulations,” the eldest daughter, Ginny, said shyly. She’d met J.J. several times before at the Human Habitat site, but she’d never gotten over her awe.

  J.J. winked at her. “Pretty easy when everyone else slows down. I just put a little glue on their skis and they stick to the snow.”

  “You never,” she said, but laughed and relaxed.

  How did he do it? Lainie wondered. Somehow, he always managed to put people at ease. Charisma, she decided, b
ut it was more than that. There was something genuinely well-intentioned about him. He didn’t always manage to execute on those intentions, but he was good where it counted.

  “Well, I promised a couple of young ladies that I was going to take them on the Tilt-A-Whirl and win them pink teddy bears,” George said, “so I’d better get to it.”

  “Knocking over milk cans?” J.J. asked.

  George nodded. “I’ve been practicing my fastball for weeks. I’m thinking of going out for spring training with the Sox.”

  “Don’t hold your breath on that one,” Amanda said behind her hand.

  “Hush, wife. Show some respect,” George grumbled, and herded them all off to the midway, the girls laughing.

  “You want me to win you a pink teddy bear?” J.J. asked as they ambled past the game booths.

  “Only if you carry it for me.”

  He eyed her. “You want me to walk around carrying a pink stuffed animal?”

  “If you truly cared about me, you’d do it,” Lainie told him and leaned in to linger over his mouth. “Pretty please with sugar on top?” she whispered.

  Half an hour and thirty bucks later, she was the proud owner of a plush magenta bear with button eyes.

  “You could have bought one for less,” J.J. grumbled.

  “If you’d paid more attention in phys ed, it wouldn’t have taken so much to win one.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, you got your stuffed animal. What next?”

  “Corn dogs,” Lainie replied promptly.

  “Corn dogs?”

  “Corn dogs. It’s a fair. You have to get a corn dog.”

  “No wonder you didn’t want dinner. Forget the mystery meat. I say we go get a steak.”

  “How could you think about a restaurant when you could have this?” she demanded, waving a hand at the food aisle. “You’ve got every option you could want, gyros, lemonade, fried dough, cotton candy… This is America.”

  “I knew there was a reason I spend so much time in Europe,” he muttered.

  Ignoring him, Lainie bought two corn dogs at the brightly striped booth and handed him one. “Look, any man who subsists almost entirely on burgers and pizza has no business looking down on a corn dog. Have you ever had one?”