In the Witching Hour

by In The Witching Hour (lit)

  She closed her eyes and snuggled against the warm, tight body next to her, pulling up the sheet to cover her naked shoulders. He mumbled and wrapped his arm around her, his hand finding her breast even in sleep.

  Her body responded to his touch, heating her skin like a raging fever. She smiled again. How many times in the last ten years had she dreamed about feeling this way? How often had she wished for a man who could make her enjoy sex as she’d done in the past? But once John had taken over her life, she’d become like a robot. No feelings involved whatsoever.

  Last night when she’d given Adrian a tour of her house, she’d linked her fingers with his and it’d felt so right. She played the tease, rubbing her body against his, saying the right words that would stir passion in him. By the look in his dark blue eyes, she surmised it had worked. It also turned up the thermometer inside her body, because she couldn’t wait to experience the thrill of having him inside her once again. Yet fear found its way to her chest, threatening to choke her.

  This desperate need for love had to be put aside. She wanted Adrian for one thing and one thing only. Mentally shaking away the impulsive longing closing around her heart, she concentrated on her goal. Revenge against John Robinson.

  She closed her eyes and relived the wondrous pleasure one last time. It had been her turn for an earth-shattering orgasm, and damned if Adrian didn’t fulfill her every dream.

  His chest rose and fell from deep breaths, a small snore escaping his mouth. She grinned. Their lovemaking had certainly exhausted him—as it had her. So what would it hurt if they lay together for just a little while longer? What would it hurt if she enjoyed his hard, naked body against hers and remembered the erotic feeling for just a little longer?

  Her nose twitched and she reached up to scratch it—then froze. Her name whispered through the room, but it didn’t come from the man sleeping next to her. She opened her eyes, her breathing increased.

  She pulled away from Adrian, careful so she wouldn’t disrupt him. The room remained quiet, except for his deep breaths, but she strained her ears for something—anything that might have jarred her alert. And why had her nose itched?

  “Colette.” Her name floated through her memory and pulled her to awareness. She inhaled quickly. Excitement caused a different hammering in her heart.

  Slowly, she slid out of bed and grabbed her red, silk robe. After wrapping it around her body and tying the sash, she padded across the hardwood floor toward the door. She touched the doorknob then glanced over her shoulder at Adrian. He remained in the same position.

  She sneaked out the door then closed it behind her. She glanced up the hallway.

  “Belinda,” she whispered. “Are you there?” She twisted her hands against her stomach, waiting to hear—or see her sister. Please, be here.

  “Colette….”

  The voice came from the next room. She hurried the several steps to the door and opened it.

  “Belinda?” She peeked around the door.

  A bright light near the window made the room glow. Within seconds, the light created a form. Wind from the opened window blew long, black hair, swirling around the figure gowned in white.

  “Belinda!” she shrieked and ran to her sister. When she reached her, the figure took on a form and loving arms wrapped Colette in a tight hug. Tears gathered in her eyes, her throat clogged with emotion. “Oh, Belinda. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  Belinda pulled back, her green eyes twinkling along with her smile. “I thought I’d come visit since you refused to answer my summons.”

  Colette wrinkled her forehead. “Summons? What summons?”

  “The one I’d sent to your necklace.”

  Frowning, she dropped her arms and stepped away from her sister. She’d forgotten, Zoetan time was shorter than mortal time.

  “I don’t have my necklace any longer, which explains why I never received your call.”

  Belinda folded her arms and tilted her head. Her eyes narrowed. “What in Zoetan’s name happened to your necklace?”

  Colette blew out a frustrated sigh and sat on the chair in the guest bedroom. “It’s a long story.”

  “I don’t have any pressing engagements, so you might as well tell me everything.”

  Colette blinked away the moisture forming in her eyes while she explained what happened. She curled her fingers into fists, her nails biting into her skin when she thought about John’s devious actions, and every humiliating thing he’d put her through.

  A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away. She took a deep breath and stared at her older sister, waiting for her to speak. Belinda’s eyes were cold, not the warm green they’d been minutes before. Colette’s heart stilled. Was her situation hopeless?

  Belinda clasped her hands on her lap. “It’s been ten years, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why haven’t you tried to get the necklace back?”

  “I have!” Anger lodged in her throat and she swallowed. “But every time I tried to get near his property, his guards turned me away. He has high fences protecting his home, and I haven’t found a way to get inside,” she paused briefly, “until now.”

  Belinda’s eyes widened. “Until now?”

  She nodded. “Recently I’ve acquainted myself with John’s twenty-five-year-old son, Adrian.”

  “And how is your relationship going?”

  Colette grinned. “He’s asleep in the next room.”

  Her sister nodded. “And how is he going to get you into the house?”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, hesitant to tell her sister. But she must. She needed advice—any help she could get. “I thought about telling Adrian his father has something of mine—”

  “Absolutely not!” Belinda rose to her feet, anger making her face red. “It’s bad enough John knows. We don’t need his son suspicious, too.”

  Colette jumped up, her hands balled at her sides. “Then tell me what I should do.”

  Belinda took a deep breath and threaded her fingers through her lustrous hair. She paced the floor, her brows knit as if in deep concentration. “Whatever you do, you have to hurry. You don’t have much time.”

  When her sister passed, Colette reached out her hand to stop her. “What do you mean? Why don’t I have much time?”

  Belinda met her stare, her sister’s eyes softening. “You’ve been without your necklace too long as it is, and because you are half mortal, without your necklace you can become one of them.” She paused, tilting her head. “Have you forgotten what happens in seven days?”

  Colette shrugged. “I must have forgotten. What happens?”

  “It’s what mortal’s call Halloween and Zoetan’s call Joining of the Moons.”

  Colette shook her head. “I still don’t follow.”

  Belinda breathed deeply and clasped Colette’s hands. “If you don’t have your necklace by the Joining of the Moons you will lose your power—forever. Even John Robinson won’t be able to use the necklace.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, yet her heart thumped crazily against her ribs. “Why now? Why after ten years?”

  “Because every ten years the two moons come together. If you don’t have your necklace by this time, you will become mortal.”

  Colette gasped and brought her hands to cover her mouth. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. “Can … can you do anything to help me?”

  Belinda shook her head. “This is something you have to do on your own. My powers cannot help.”

  Colette turned and strode to the half-opened window. A gentle breeze stroked her cheeks and stirred a lock of hair hanging over her shoulder. Down in the yard, her maid instructed the pool man, pointing as she talked.

  A throb began in the base of her skull, working its way up over her head. She rubbed her temple.

  “I’ll get into John’s house. Adrian is still my key, but I’ll think of another way. I heard the senator is out of the country on vacation, so there’s got to be a
way inside.”

  Her sister laid her hand on Colette’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’ll be with you—in your thoughts.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Thanks, sis.”

  Although she’d stick to her goal, it wasn’t looking as good as it did before. What if she couldn’t get Adrian to let her in his father’s home? What would she do then?

  Adrian pulled away from the guest bedroom’s door and crept back into Colette’s room. After he quietly closed the door, he clenched his jaw.

  So, the beautiful and intoxicating woman’s interest was for his father and not him. How typical. And why wasn’t he used to this by now? Why did his chest ache as if she’d just plunged a knife through it?

  He took a deep breath and crawled back on the bed. He hadn’t heard everything—but enough. Colette wanted to use him to get into his father’s home. Why? What was so important? She knew the senator was out of the country, so what was her reasoning? Blackmail, perhaps? Did she want to find information to blackmail his father?

  None of this made sense. He growled and raked his fingers through his hair. Colette was wealthy. She didn’t need any more power—so then what was she after?

  Maybe the key to getting all his questions answered was to take Colette to his father’s house. But he couldn’t let her know he was onto her. He had to catch her in the act.

  He lay back on the bed and squeezed his eyes closed. Why did it have to be Colette? Why did it have to be a woman who was so completely different from all the others he’d met? And why did it have to be the woman who’d given him the best sexual experience of his life?

  He flung his arm over his head and sighed. From the other side of the room, the door opened, the cool air from the hallway propelled through. He relaxed his face, hoping he’d look as if he was still sleeping. The soft pad of her steps came closer to the bed then the mattress shifted and her scent of lilacs slammed his senses. His loins stirred to awareness, eager to be inside her body once again.

  The soft trace of her finger as it moved over his mouth made him open his eyes. She smiled and his heart plummeted. Gone was the intriguing, sexual woman he’d explored last night. An evil, crafty manipulator had taken her place.

  “I’m glad you’re awake,” she whispered.

  “Why?”

  Her finger trailed down his neck to his chest, heading in one direction—toward the arousal rising quickly. When her hand neared, his cock jumped.

  “Because I’m hungry.” She growled and kissed his neck. “I want more of you.”

  And he certainly wanted to give her more, but not now. The truth of her seduction dampened his spirits. Too bad it didn’t dampen the excitement leaping in his shorts.

  Just as her hand stroked over his bulge, he grasped her shoulders and rolled them over. Purposely, he shifted the lower half of his body so it wasn’t touching hers. He knew all too well what the end result would be if that happened.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “As much as the idea tempts me, I’m going to decline. I have court this afternoon, and I must prepare my notes.”

  She pouted. With most women, he shrugged off their expression, but with Colette, he wanted to press his mouth against her frown and change the look on her face to pleasure. What was wrong with him? Why did he still want her even though he knew the truth?

  “Not even a quickie?”

  He shook his head.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “How about later tonight?”

  He couldn’t stop the grin from tugging on his lips. “I’m sure I can be persuaded.”

  She pushed her fingers through his hair and held his head still as she lifted her mouth to his. He didn’t resist this time and opened for her probing tongue. Her kiss created havoc in his body, making lust burn through it. The heat turned hotter the longer her tongue swirled with his and the more she nipped at his lips. Her body writhed beneath his, and he thanked God his lower-half couldn’t feel this sexy woman.

  It was pure torture to pull away, but he did. Her swollen lips begged him to return, as did her passionate green eyes—eyes he could lose himself in. He quickly moved off the bed and found his clothes.

  “Adrian?”

  “Yes,” he answered without looking her way.

  “Will you come back tonight?”

  The magnetic pull overwhelmed him, and he glanced over his shoulder. Her red robe had come apart and part of a shoulder and breast were visible. Inwardly, he groaned. God, she was sexy.

  “Why tonight?”

  “Because I just realized, I haven’t introduced you to my garden tub.”

  He grinned. “Yes, the garden tub … the same tub we were going to end up in when we’d left last night’s party.”

  She nodded. “So what do you say?”

  He stood and pulled up his pants. “I’ll seriously think about it.” He winked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  What in the hell kind of lawyer was he? He’d spent the last several hours in his office searching for information on Colette, and couldn’t come up with anything. He’d already known she’d married Lawrence Carmichael and the man died a year later of a heart attack. The widow, Mrs. Carmichael, was reported to have had affairs throughout the next few years. Two more of her lovers died—one in a car accident, the other caught a stray bullet during deer hunting season.

  Coincidence?

  Although Colette had created a bad reputation for herself, she still remained a private person. Adrian scratched his head and leaned his elbows on his desk. Funny, but she always contributed a large sum of money to charities, too.

  So, was she the devil or a saint?

  He blew out a frustrated gush of air and pounded his fist against the desk. And what connection did she have with his father? Brian Crane had mentioned meeting Colette through John Robinson, yet Colette had said she’d known his father through her late husband.

  Adrian squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed his forehead. Once again, the facts did not add up. Somebody was lying, and he’d put all his money on Colette. But why?

  He glanced at his cell phone lying on the corner of the desk. He reached for it then stopped. Calling his father wasn’t the best idea. That man probably told more lies than all the lawyers Adrian knew. The honorable Senator Robinson certainly had his share of mistresses and had lied his ass off to keep it hidden from the world. Adrian didn’t know why his mother was so gullible, but that was her problem. He had enough problems in his life. He didn’t need the burden of carrying his parent’s.

  He had to know.

  “Shit!” He picked up the phone and punched in his father’s cell, gritting his teeth as rings buzzed in his ear.

  “Hello?” The sweet voice of his mother floated through the phone.

  “Hi, Mom. Are you and Dad having a good time?”

  “Why of course, Adrian. Spain is beautiful this time of year.”

  “Good.” He paused for just a second. “Is Dad around? I need to talk to him.”

  “Sure, just a moment, honey.”

  Adrian drummed his fingers on the oak top until his father’s voice boomed from the other end.

  “Adrian, good to hear from you, son. What’s up?”

  How could he start the conversation? He shook his head and tightened his grip on the cell. “I just thought I’d call and see how you and Ma are doing. I also thought I’d tell you that I started working for Brian Crane.”

  “Brian’s a good man. His law firm is one of the best in Florida. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied.”

  “So far, so good. I’m really enjoying my job.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Brian had a party last night at his house—a real black-tie affair.”

  His father laughed. “Yes, Margaret is famous for those.”

  “So I’ve learned.” Adrian forced a laugh. “She was trying to fix me up with her niece.”

  His father’s voice boomed with laughter again. “Did it work?”

  Here was the opening … this was the perfect time to
mention Colette. “I met the girl, but I had my eye on a different woman.”

  “You’re a ladies’ man just like your father.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Who is the woman? Anybody I know?”

  Adrian grinned. “Yes, I think you do. She said she’d met you through her late husband. Her name’s Colette Carmichael.”

  He held his breath and it seemed his father wasn’t breathing, either. There was a long pause, then heavy steps. The bang of a door closing echoed on the other end of the phone before his father cleared his throat. “Mrs. Carmichael? Lawrence’s widow?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Why, son, she’s a good ten years older than you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. She’s a hot number.”

  “No, son.” The tone in his father’s voice turned more controlling and demanding. “I think you’re getting in way over your head. She’s not a very nice lady. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”

  “Oh, but Dad, I’ve met her, and she’s nothing like that. She’s very charming.”

  “Charming, yes. And seductive.”

  Adrian chuckled. “Yes, seductive is a perfect word for her.”

  “You haven’t … um … been with her, have you?”

  He scrunched his forehead. Was that panic in his father’s voice? “We talked a lot at the party.” And did a lot of non-talking. He smiled in remembrance.

  “I think you should stay away from her, Adrian. She’s dangerous. I really think she was the reason her husband died. And did you hear two more of her lovers ended up in the morgue?”

  “Yes, Dad, but I don’t think she killed them. She’s too sweet.”

  “She’s putting on an act. Stay away from her. She wants something from you, son.” The tone of his voice turned harsh.

  “How do you know her? Brian said you introduced Colette to him many years ago.”

  Adrian stood and walked over to his window. Outside the sun was setting. Shadows crept over the park near the office building.