by Anya Breton
Drew remained, staring. With a brave lift of her chin, Gemma met his eye. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She’d grown into her skin and learned to eat healthy portions. No longer did she gorge when she was stressed. Meditation helped with that.
“You’re really little Gemmy?” When Drew’s gaze slid over her this time, it was a hair less appreciative. But the lingering attention on her breasts made her hopeful he wasn’t completely disgusted by the discovery of her identity. “Little Gemmy, how you’ve matured.”
“Drew,” Aston barked from farther in the house and had them both jumping.
After a curse under his breath, Drew started for his brother’s office without a word of regret. Gemma sighed dreamily as his backside disappeared around the corner. It had taken four years of college, losing thirty pounds and getting fitted for contact lenses for the gorgeous blond to finally notice her.
Didn’t it just figure he’d now be miraculously engaged?
Chapter Two
Predictably, Gemma found her mother bent over a steaming pot of sauce on burner three of the large stove within the whitewashed kitchen. The fragrant concoction had notes of fresh garlic, basil and oregano mixed in with the tang of tomato. Gemma’s mouth watered like one of Pavlov’s dogs despite her time away. Her mother’s food was the best.
“Gemmy,” the older woman exclaimed before turning. It was one of her mother’s superpowers to recognize a person’s presence by their gait alone. The curvy woman pivoted with smooth grace. Curly orange hair flew over her shoulder as she faced Gemma. “Where’s my hug?”
Gemma was already on her way to embrace her mother. They clenched each other beside the boiling pot of sauce, merely enjoying each other’s company.
“You’re so thin,” she groused along with a squeeze of Gemma’s waist. “Didn’t like the beans and toast over there?”
A small laugh bubbled out of Gemma. “There was plenty to eat. The English will put anything in a piecrust and eat it.”
Her mother’s mouth spread wide. “I’ll make extra garlic bread for your homecoming.” With a wry sidelong look, she added, “You could use the calories, girl. Sit down and tell me all about your trip.”
Gemma settled onto the cozy, polished birch table set in the corner to do exactly that. It had been a few weeks since they had a lengthy chat. There was much to discuss. She left out the tale of her near-death experience on the drive.
Minutes before the Haizea family congregated for dinner, Gemma escaped to the servants’ quarters. The view from her bedroom door hadn’t changed in ten years. Her purple bed looked dated and childish. But there was no sense changing it. One way or another, she’d soon be living elsewhere.
Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, Gemma stood and rummaged through her closet for a change of clothing. Every shirt was shapeless and every bottom far too large for her trimmer waist. There was nothing to wear. She should have been distraught. Gemma was thrilled instead.
With nothing to change into, she decided her shower could wait. And since she was already grimy from her trip, there was no reason she couldn’t get dirtier.
* * * * *
Drew caught movement out of the side window while his mother scolded him for his latest transgression. His attention shifted to the glass. Amanda’s voice faded into the periphery. He quickly spotted the red-haired beauty he’d nearly splattered with his sports car. She appeared to be frolicking across the lawn in her gauzy dress.
His dick stirred when he imagined stalking her into the woods that now hid her. What delicious things he could do to her beneath the cover of the red-ash trees.
Good grief. She was Ellen’s little girl. He was fantasizing about roly-poly Gemmy!
But she didn’t look like the same girl. She’d matured.
He pushed his chair back, setting his napkin beside his lap. Amanda’s droning voice abruptly ceased. His attention shifted back to her. Her honeyed eyebrows arched and her mauve lips flattened. Guilt warmed his cheeks.
“Going somewhere?” she asked in the dry tone that masked disgust. He might have been concerned with the reaction if she hadn’t been disgusted prior to his movement.
“I should call Elizabeth,” he replied with his smoothest delivery while he held her gaze, willing her to believe the lie.
“Yes, you should.” Amanda gave a sharp nod. “Be appropriately apologetic. And invite her family to luncheon on Saturday. I’ll have Ellen make a quiche.”
A quiche luncheon, was there anything blander? Drew smiled when he only wanted to sigh and grouse. His amiable voice hid all hints of annoyance. “Yes, Mother. I’ll have lilies delivered in time.”
She patted his knuckles as he stood. “Such a sweet darling.”
Drew hurried after the real sweet darling. He only hoped she was somewhere he could easily find. Perhaps a little magic abuse was in order. His lips curved at the thought.
* * * * *
Aston Haizea shifted in his seat. His mother’s gaze immediately speared him to the spot.
“What?” she snapped.
Long ago he’d learned to accept his place in his mother’s affections. He was the staunch, dependable son who didn’t require her coddling. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t been jealous of the constant indulgences she showered on Drew.
Hadn’t. At thirty-three, he ought to be mature enough to get past his youthful envy. Any other day he would be. But today Drew had threatened their family’s rise to power. His brother shouldn’t be allowed to traipse off as if nothing had happened.
“You do know he’s escaped the house in search of Gemma,” Aston declared in the dry tone he’d learned from his mother.
“Gemma who?”
Did no one in the family realize their housekeeper had a twenty-two-year-old daughter? A daughter who had lived on their property from birth? A daughter who had run wild for years and had a foolish obsession with his younger brother?
“Ellen the housekeeper’s daughter.”
“I know who Ellen is,” his mother retorted tersely. “I thought her daughter’s name was Jemy.”
“Gemmy is a nickname for Gemma,” he corrected with the last of his patience.
“Why would Drew have to search for her? Isn’t she in the servants’ quarters?”
Aston filled his lungs as he counted backward from ten. When he reached the final number, he gave the explanation she required. “Gemma Erjon has returned from studying abroad a changed woman. Her braces and blocky glasses are gone and she’s lost at least twenty pounds. Drew didn’t recognize her. They arrived together this afternoon and he had that look in his eyes.” Aston waved his fingers above his right eyebrow denoting what that look was.
Still, his mother asked, “What look?”
“Mother,” he groaned because he hadn’t any patience left. “Drew looked infatuated with her.”
“Drew,” she repeated. “Infatuated with Gemmy?”
Aston extended a finger toward the west window where even now Drew could be seen rushing over the lush green lawn. “She went into those woods five minutes ago.”
His mother shook her head four times in rapid succession. Her wavy hair shifted over the shoulders of her navy linen blouse. “Surely Drew has another reason. Did she leave something behind?”
“If she had, Drew could have easily given it to Ellen.” It was clear the matriarch required bluntness. “As I said, Gemma returned a changed woman and Drew has noticed.”
“But it’s Gemmy.” She shot to her feet. The fabric napkin fell from her thighs to land on her nude pumps. “He’s not infatuated with her.”
“Perhaps I’m wrong,” Aston allowed despite knowing full well he wasn’t. He’d seen the look on Drew’s face too many times not to recognize it. His brother would have his fun with Gemma Erjon and in the process he’d break her heart, ruin his engagement and destroy Aston’s chances of becoming regional high priest.
His mother’s expression of incredulous horror morphed into determination. He’d sown the seeds
of doubt. She’d get to the bottom of the situation.
And then she’d solve it.
* * * * *
The brook was wider than Gemma recalled but her favorite rock was precisely the same size as in her childhood memories. She sat atop the cool, rough surface with her legs curled beneath her body and her dress wrapped over her toes. This was what she needed—the soothing sounds of water tinkling beneath the rush of the breeze and the chirps of happy little birds.
This place was home to her. It was more of a home than the purple bedroom back at the servants’ quarters. She gazed up at the evening sun filtering through the trees. Its rays sparkled copper against the water.
The crack of a tree branch to the north caught her attention. Gemma opened herself to the magic all around, floating invisibly within the aether. Her dominion over Air magic meant she could call on the wind. She asked it to search out the sound and filter it back to her sharpened. Soft steps shuffled along the forest floor.
Someone was coming.
Closing her eyes for concentration, Gemma called on Air to give her an approximate shape of the intruder. The silhouette of a man formed in her mind, in black and white contours. The male was some five feet, ten inches tall and wore slacks and a polo shirt not unlike those Drew had worn. She dared not hope it was who she’d dreamed would come. Breathlessly, she waited as the figure closed in on her.
“I come in peace,” the golden voice called moments later.
She craned her neck to get a look at him. He’d changed into navy slacks and a soft blue polo shirt that looked posh. Shy Gemmy would have sat mutely while he closed the distance. But her time abroad had brought her out of her shell.
She laughed lightly, calling back, “You don’t plan to nearly kill me this time?”
“Good lord, no,” he replied, closer. “I guess I have a lot to atone for. Then again, I did save you that one time out by the pond.”
Gemma smiled at the old memory.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you after I nearly killed you. You just look so…” Drew stopped several feet from her rock. He made a leisurely scan of her. Appreciative warmth filled his eyes, stealing Gemma’s breath.
She recovered to offer his missing adjective. “Different?”
“Different,” he echoed with his irises focused on her breasts. “Sure.”
Had he meant to say something else? Perhaps that she was attractive? Or dare she hope sexy? She should have kept her mouth shut so she’d know the answer.
His attention dipped to her hidden legs and then back up again until it settled on her face. “This isn’t a joke, is it?” he asked, amusement shining on his face. “My brother didn’t hire you to make a fool out of me, did he?”
Gemma shivered at the thought of Aston hiring a woman. “Goodness, no. I’m really Gemma Erjon, returned from college. I’d show you my passport and driver’s license but they’re back in my room at the servants’ quarters.”
His head shook from the left to the right even as his gaze remained fixed on her collarbone. “I believe you. It’s just…” This time she didn’t offer a word. “Unreal.”
Gemma sat unmoving, trying not to acknowledge her disappointment. What did he want? Hadn’t he been eating dinner? What would have prompted Drew to leave his meal for a visit to the brook?
“Is this your favorite place too?” she asked in her lightest voice.
Drew’s attention snapped up to her face. Confusion wrinkled his eyes. “My favorite place?” Twice, he darted a look at her chest.
Gemma fought not to smile. She gestured to the bubbling stream behind her. “The brook. It’s my favorite place.”
“Oh. It’s not bad.”
“I see.” She hesitated. “I just wondered why you’d come here now when it’s almost dark.”
“To see you,” he blurted out. Pink soon stained his golden skin. “I mean…to apologize for earlier. And, uh, make sure you didn’t have any sort of whiplash from that near accident.”
“I’m fine,” Gemma assured him. “Thank you for worrying.”
“Is there room on that rock for another?”
Gemma’s heart stalled a beat. Breathlessly, she made herself reply, “It would be cozy, but I suppose.”
Drew had started for her before she finished the second word. She scrambled to make room for him. Her dress came free of her toes, lifting slightly in the breeze as she moved.
He gaped at the skin it revealed as if he’d never seen a pair of ankles. “How was England?”
“Wonderful.”
Drew dropped onto the rock with a careless plunk. “Is the food as bad as they say it is?”
Gemma opened her mouth to reply.
“It must have been for you to lose so much weight,” Drew continued before she could speak.
Her face warmed at the reminder of what she’d looked like in high school. Quietly, she replied, “I lost the weight over the course of the years at college. If anything, I gained a few pounds during my year in England.”
“Impossible,” Drew declared with lifted brows. “You’re perfect now. You were skinnier before?”
Perfect. He thought she was perfect! Gemma burst into a giddy smile even as her heart beat madly. “A little,” she said.
He lowered his voice into a purr. “I like what you did with your hair.” He reached, taking hold of a strand of her styled auburn locks. A warm shiver passed over her arms, raising the skin into tiny bumps.
Drew was touching her. Atop her rock, beside the brook. It was…unreal. Any moment now she’d wake from this dream.
“It’s so soft,” he whispered as he rubbed his thumb over the strands. But he wasn’t looking at her hair. He was looking at her lips.
He wanted to kiss her. Gemma didn’t dare move. The slow intake of air to go on living was the only action she dared take. Drew leaned in. The heat of his breath flowed over her skin. His expression went thunderstruck, as though somehow he couldn’t believe he was here with Gemma any more than she could.
He brushed his lips against hers. It was the briefest gesture—a tease that made her hungry for more. Heat flashed out, waking every dark corner of her body.
This was the moment she’d waited for her entire life. And the only thing she could think about was the faceless witch wearing his ring.
“Your fiancée,” Gemma mumbled.
“Forget her. She’s nothing to me. A mistake my family is making me honor.”
Was that true? It did seem strange that playboy Drew would settle down. But was that wishful thinking on her part? And what would make Drew settle down with Gemma if he refused a witch the formidable Haizea family approved of?
His mouth feathered along hers, muddling her thoughts before she could come to a conclusion.
“There you are.”
Gemma slumped when he sprang up from the rock at the sound of a feminine voice. Drew’s mother came into view.
“Drew, your brother is looking for you,” Amanda Haizea called across the woods. “He’s waiting for you in his office.”
“I shouldn’t leave her alone. She might get lost.”
The idea of getting lost here was laughable. And yet Gemma didn’t laugh. Drew wanted to stay with her. That was no laughing matter.
Amanda sent her son a smile that would be at home on a shark. “I will make sure Gemmy makes it safely back to the servants’ quarters.” Her tone was hard with heavy emphasis on Gemma’s status in the world.
Drew glanced between them. And then hung his head forward. Gemma had lost the battle. “I’ll see you later,” he muttered before slinking between the trees past his mother.
Both women watched Drew’s plodding progress through the brush, both rigid for different reasons. Gemma kept her head held high for what was coming.
“I’ve always liked you, Gemma,” the Haizea matriarch declared in her same hard tone once her son was out of magical earshot. “I only want what is best for you. However, I want what is best for my family first. Drew has a fiancée
. She is connected. A match between our families will propel Aston to the position of regional high priest.” She paused her speech to close the distance between them. Hazel eyes—eyes nearly the match for Drew’s—slivered. “I won’t let anything stand in the way of that. Lose Drew’s interest or there will be serious consequences.”
Gemma stared uncomprehendingly at the woman’s viciously pinched features. Though Amanda was a ruthless individual, the woman’s tactics had never been turned on her. Her heart thumped wildly against the inside of her chest and her hands shook. No breath made it into her lungs until seconds after Amanda disappeared between the trees.
Serious consequences, the matriarch had warned. But what would those be?
Gemma hadn’t decided yet if she would try to find a job near her mother. Moving out of state had always been an option. Would Amanda force the issue?
Or was the head of the Haizea brood threatening her mother’s position? Surely not. This wasn’t an issue worthy of ending twenty years of employment.
But…Amanda was ruthless.
Gemma should do as she was told. She should avoid Drew.
And yet it infuriated her to think the man was being used as a pawn in some power play. Didn’t he deserve to be happy with whomever he wanted to be with? Even if that person was the lowly housekeeper’s daughter?
Gemma needed to find out how serious Amanda Haizea was. But that would require speaking to someone who frightened her nearly as much as the Haizea matriarch. It would require that she seek out Aston.
Chapter Three
Aston pretended not to notice the woman floating across the lush lawn to the main house as his phone rang. Her gauzy dress molded around her thighs with each gust of the warm summer breeze, revealing the delightful cleft at the junction of her legs. But he pretended not to notice that as well.