by T. M. Cromer
ENCHANTED MAGIC Copyright © 2021 T.M. Cromer
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All rights reserved.
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ISBN: 978-1-7352032-1-8 (Digital)
ISBN: 978-1-7352032-4-9 (Paperback)
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Cover art: Deranged Doctor Designs
Editor: Trusted Accomplice
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
From the Author…
Also by T.M. Cromer
To Jeannie H. - thanks for understanding how my brain works and being patient about your dedication. You knew I’d get there eventually. :)
Chapter 1
Mackenzie hadn’t really expected to see Sebastian Drake again this soon. After all, they didn’t run in the same circles. He was the British elite and the newest ranking member of the Witches’ Council. She was a rebellious Thorne and an empty-headed American model—or so it was rumored by those who only saw an exquisite face and didn’t actually know her or that she held a master’s degree in nanoscience.
Yet there Sebastian was, across the room, looking sexy and smart in his very expensive tuxedo jacket and kilt. James Bond in warlock form. His thick black hair was combed neatly, with a single errant lock falling in such a way to make a woman want to smooth it back into place.
Well, this woman anyway.
She took a measured sip of her champagne and maintained a pleasant neutral expression. It would never do to show her interest in Sebastian despite her cousin Alastair’s desire to match the pair of them. If a man saw a woman was attracted to him, he immediately assumed she wasn’t worth the chase and looked elsewhere. Sure, sometimes he’d bed her, but then he’d implement the slow fade and eventually ghost her. But if a woman played it cool and was reserved, it would whet the male’s appetite, and he’d pursue her to the ends of the earth.
Clearly a fault in the male design.
Her gaze dropped to the red plaid kilt. Sebastian had legs the size of small tree trunks, and when he shifted, Mackenzie was able to catch a glimpse of those mighty fine knees. A smile tugged at her lips. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to see what he really wore under that skirt of his.
She let her eyes leisurely trail upward and linger where his package resided underneath the low-slung leather sporran around his waist. Like many of the lust-struck women she’d overheard discussing the incomparable Sebastian Drake, Mackenzie wouldn’t mind spending a night or thirty in his bed. Sighing deeply, she drained what remained of her drink and placed the glass on the tray of a passing waiter. Hell, she’d spend her life in his bed if he gave her any encouragement.
When she glanced back one last time, it was to meet the intense gaze of the ruggedly handsome Sebastian. For the count of five chest-thumping heartbeats, they locked eyes. His slow, knowing smile brought with it a searing desire to close the distance between them and plant her mouth firmly on his. In her mind’s eye, she saw them tangled, naked and sweating, going at it like sex-starved fiends. She wasn’t sure if the image was his or one of her own. Such was the way with psychics.
He winked.
She blushed.
What the hell?
She, who never blushed, felt the heat of embarrassment rush up her neck and heat her cheeks. Somehow, he’d either guessed at the torrid thoughts crowding her mind, or he’d put them there. Now, she had an obsessive need to touch him.
Damn him!
With a tilt of her chin skyward, she pivoted on her stilettos and headed for the closest exit. The cold, crisp air would cool her overly warm skin and clear her head of images involving the horizontal mambo with that “English playboy”—as her cousin was so fond of calling him.
Mackenzie had just cleared the doorway when her internal warning system went haywire. A tingling started between her shoulder blades, and goose bumps broke out along the exposed skin of her arms and neck. Hands raised to strike, she spun back around and faced the oncoming threat.
Only it wasn’t a threat, not in the truest sense of the word. Certainly not a hazard to her health—more along the lines of a danger to her heart.
Sebastian.
And based on the amorous look in his dark eyes, he was coming to claim the kiss she’d been fantasizing about since she met him three months ago.
“Leaving so soon, Ms. Thorne?”
Crap on a cracker! The husky, teasing quality of his voice made her insides a quivering mass of jello. “Of course not. Not before the dedication for Georgie Sipanil. I simply required air.” There, that sounded like a legit excuse, right?
“Mmhmm.” He placed his palm flat against the bare skin at the small of her back and guided her toward the railing.
Her mind blanked. Like literally all the words and thoughts rolling around in her head went south, and in their place, something darker, more sinister took root. She violently shuddered from the kaleidoscope of images she received from his simple touch. Her body’s reaction had nothing to do with here and now, but everything to do with future events involving Sebastian.
He quickly removed his hand.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you’d find my touch abhorrent.” His voice had taken on a coolness and held an edge of discomfort. Here was a man who respected boundaries, and Mackenzie appreciated the hell out of that type of guy.
“Oh, no… I… it’s not that… you…”
The ridiculousness of the moment suddenly struck her, and she laughed. Here she was, one of the most sought-after models of all time, with nearly every member of the fashion world clamoring for her attention in some way or another. Women wanted to be her. Men wanted to bed her. Corporate heads wanted to make money off her looks. But all she could do was act like a stammering virgin when confronted with the magnificent Mr. Drake.
“I’m sorry, Sebastian. It wasn’t you. It was…” What could she tell him? It actually was his fault, but only insomuch as his fate would play out in the coming weeks.
His eyes warmed, taking them from near-black to a milky chocolate. “So now we are on a first-name basis? I’d hoped to get there soon.”
Aaannnd they were back to his patented panty-dropping charm.
She sighed her disappointment. While she didn’t mind dropping her panties for this man, she wanted the genuine guy she’d witnessed only a minute before. Not this guy. Not the one who was practiced and suave. Not the one who gave all his potential conquests the same cool, sexy smile but failed to offer anything more lasting than a few hours in the
sack.
“Look, Mr. Drake, I’m sure you’re nice and all, but this…” She waved a hand up and down to indicate his gorgeousness. “Yeah, it’s going to be a hard pass from me.”
He frowned his confusion but remained silent. Watchful.
“Haven’t been told no before, have you?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux pity.
He laughed. Not just an indulgent chuckle, but a full-bodied amused bark of laughter. “You remind me of GiGi,” he finally said. “Same sarcastic wit, same ability to put a person in their place. Well done.”
GiGi.
Yes, for a brief second, she’d forgotten he had a thing for her cousin. Disappointment rode her hard. At most, Mackenzie would be second-best since Sebastian was probably still in love with GiGi. And didn’t that beat all? The guy she was crushing on wanted someone else.
“She’s taken,” she snapped. Her irritation wasn’t a result of jealousy or because she didn’t wish her cousin well. It was because she did want GiGi’s happiness that Mackenzie was irritated. As long as she was around, no one was going to screw up GiGi and Ryker’s marriage but them.
“I’m well aware.” Sebastian’s eyes took on a quizzical light as he studied her.
“Good. Have a nice evening, Mr. Drake.” She gave him a brief nod.
When she would’ve moved away, he held up a hand. “What have I done to give you such a low opinion of me, Ms. Thorne?”
With a concerted effort, she pasted a smile on her face. “I don’t have any opinion of you. I don’t think of you at all.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
His eyes narrowed.
She arched a brow. “If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to miss the dedication.”
“By all means.” He swept his arm toward the door. An indication for her to precede him. She’d only taken two strides when he said, “I believe you do think about me, Mackenzie Thorne. You think about me a lot.”
She met his mocking gaze in the reflection of the doors. He was right, but she’d never admit it. Not to this arrogant version of the man she wanted him to be. “Keep telling yourself that, Mr. Drake. In the meantime, you should go soak that big fat head of yours. It’s matched only by your ego, and that should be deflated, too.”
His amused chuckle set off the butterflies in her lower abdomen.
Dammit!
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As Mackenzie rushed away, Sebastian allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. She wasn’t immune to him despite what she claimed. The high color in her cheekbones and the spark of interest in her eyes belied her words.
She’d been wrong when she assumed he nursed unrequited feelings for GiGi Thorne-Gillespie. Oh, without a doubt, he’d desired her, and had they explored a relationship, they’d have been happy enough as partners. However, GiGi’s heart had always belonged to her husband, Ryker, and everyone knew a Thorne only loved once.
Sebastian would likely never admit it aloud, but he wanted someone to love him with that same all-consuming passion.
Taking his time, he sauntered back into the ballroom. He sought out the scarlet-haired Mackenzie and found her speaking with an old school chum of his, Hugh Cunningham. A feeling akin to irritation rippled through him. He wanted nothing more than to plant Hugh a facer and hurry Mackenzie away. In more than twenty years, that slimy prick, Hugh, hadn’t changed much. Although he’d retained his blond good looks, Hugh’s eyes had grown paler, and no amount of glamouring could reduce the bags underneath them. His long nights of excess were clearly stamped on his puffy features. Still, he regarded every woman as a conquest to be bedded and abandoned with undue haste, uncaring if they found him attractive or not. It was the singular thing Sebastian hated about him.
At that precise instant, his friend locked eyes with him across the distance and winked. It was an indication that the bloody wanker intended to make a move on Mackenzie. Wasting no time, Sebastian cut a path to her side. He’d be damned if Hugh would try to seduce the woman he wanted for himself.
“Baz! Have you met the lovely Mackenzie Thorne? You have? Brilliant. Brilliant.” Hugh smiled widely.
How had Sebastian never realized how annoying Hugh was? Always repeating the last word of his sentence. Always grinning like a demented jackal. Always… yeah, well, now that he thought about it, Hugh was a great waste of space, and an irritating one at that.
“I was just trying to convince her to have dinner with me. What? What?”
When Sebastian glanced down into Mackenzie’s laughing blue eyes, the tension in his neck and shoulders eased. Obviously, she had no intention of being charmed by Hugh.
She gave him a slight nod when Sebastian lifted a brow in silent question. Their gazes remained locked for an extra few seconds—mainly because he found it impossible to look away. Finally, as the sound of another person clearing their throat penetrated, he faced Hugh.
“Sorry, but the lady has already agreed to give me a go of it. I’m sure if she ever tires of me, she’ll look you up.” On that note, Sebastian ushered her away, cutting off any protest Hugh might have.
“Give you a ‘go of it’? What, precisely, does that mean?” she asked as he handed her a new flute of champagne.
He tapped his glass to hers. “I intend to wine and dine you.”
“Just so long as you don’t throw the sixty-nine in there,” she muttered as she took a sip and turned away.
Sebastian was sure she’d never intended for him to hear the low-spoken words, yet he did, but only because the orchestra had died at that precise moment. Leaning in close, he whispered, “Why? You don’t like to sixty-nine?”
She spewed her drink and proceeded to cough as if her lungs were afire.
Wordlessly, he handed her his handkerchief.
She mopped up her chin and dress, her cheeks a vivid shade of pink. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Because all Englishmen are expected to be refined?”
“Are you saying you aren’t?”
Sebastian let a cheeky grin answer for him.
Color flooded her face for the second time. She surprised him when she said, “I think I like you better unrefined, Mr. Drake.”
“He’s technically an Earl. That would make him Lord Kilbride,” inserted a female from behind them. “And he’s half Scot. So, yes, completely unrefined.”
He twisted slightly to glance over his shoulder at his sister.
“Arabella!” Mackenzie kissed her on each cheek. “You are looking lovely tonight. I’m glad you could make it.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Thorne. I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“Not at all, and I thought we were on a first-name basis? Please, call me Mackenzie or Mack.” She waved a waiter over and retrieved two more flutes of champagne, handing one off to Arabella.
“So you’re on a first-name basis with my sister, but not me?” Sebastian asked, curious how Arabella ranked such familiarity when he’d been in Mackenzie’s company more. Keeping his gaze focused on Mack, he directed his next comment to his sister. “Actually, you are interrupting, Bella. I was about to ask Mackenzie to—”
Expression bordering on panic, she was quick to slap her palm over his mouth.
Sebastian didn’t know who was the more surprised of the three of them. He suspected Mackenzie herself, based on the way she jerked her hand away and hid it behind her back.
“To have dinner with me,” he concluded with a smirk.
Although he never looked her way, he could feel his sister’s speculative regard bouncing between the two of them.
“Oh, do say yes, Mack,” Arabella urged. “Better yet, you should be our guest for the weekend. You and I could get to know each other better.”
Mackenzie turned her dazzling blue gaze on his sister. She seemed to understand the offer of true friendship because she smiled her agreement.
“Wonderful.” Arabella linked their arms and steered her toward the front of the room. “We are going to be great friends,” she decla
red. “I just know it.”
Sebastian followed the women at a slower pace, watching as Arabella leaned in to impart some tidbit of information here or there as they walked away. He hadn’t realized how lonely his sister was all this time, but the hint of desperation she’d shown when she invited Mackenzie to their home spoke volumes.
As for himself, he could freely admit to his own loneliness. It had been too long since he had anything resembling a relationship. The siblings guarded a life-altering secret, and it made them overly cautious of the outside world. Yet they still longed for friendships in general.
Mackenzie Thorne might be the Drakes’ salvation.
Chapter 2
The Drake estate was magnificent by anyone’s standards. Four stone stories crowned with a smattering of towers made the place majestic. As she stared at the exterior of Sebastian’s home, Mackenzie couldn’t help but gape. The windows were a good foot and a half taller than her host, who stood at six-four, and she could just imagine a lady of old staring wistfully out over the drive, waiting for her long-lost love to return.
“This place is amazing!” She craned her neck to see the domed towers better. “Is it just you and your sister living here?”
“We have two aunts haunting the halls, but otherwise, yes.”
She gave Sebastian a sharp glance. “Haunting?”
He grinned but said no more.