Page 53 of Bait N' Witch

Rowan opened her eyes, wariness darkening the color to storm. “But you don’t know me. I’m…trouble.”

Sensing she wouldn’t welcome the desire slamming through him, he held his emotions in check, even as questions swirled through his mind. Lifting a hand, he gently tucked a tendril of hair back from her face, noting its soft texture against his fingertips.

Silk. I knew it. “I could use more trouble in my life.”

A laugh burst from her, warming his heart. He could use more of that, too. Laughter.

“Chasing down magic offenders and keeping track of triplets who go into the woods in a trance isn’t enough trouble for you?” she asked.

The question was teasing, but he didn’t miss how she scooted away from him, putting distance between them.

He wanted to pull her back but made himself chuckle lightly instead. “I guess not.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

An ice-cold mountain spring had nothing on the sound of Persephone’s voice intruding on the moment.

“Aw, hell and hexation.” Though he doubted his sister-in-law did, he caught Rowan’s whispered expletive as she stood, scooping up her wineglass. “Not at all. I was about to go to bed anyway.”

His wife’s sister regarded them with narrowed eyes. “Yes. It certainly looked like it.”

“Persephone.” He deliberately imbued the word with warning.

She blinked, and suddenly her expression shifted from poisonously suspicious to pleasant. He almost wondered if he’d been wrong about her attitude. Almost.

“I thought you might be lonely with the girls away and came over to keep you company.” She glanced at Rowan’s departing back as she scurried away to the kitchen. “I guess I should have come sooner.”

He made a show of glancing at his watch. “It’s a bit late. But we’ll see you tomorrow when you come for the girls.”

The soft click of a door in the kitchen told him Rowan had gone down to her rooms without saying good night. Damn.

Determination not to leave things where they were drove him off the couch. Only he had to get Persephone out of the house first.

And then what?

He had no idea. But he’d figure it out.

Chapter Twenty

With shaking hands, Rowan stripped off her clothes and dressed in her favorite tank top and flannel pajama pants. What on earth had she been thinking, kissing Grey like that? Spending the evening with him, fantasizing that she was exactly the person she pretended to be and the desire she couldn’t miss in his gaze, in his touch, was something she was allowed to act upon.

The ache in her heart had turned into a torment. Each word, each moment shared felt like the tip of a knife slipping between her ribs and twisting, because she knew she had to go. Gods, she’d been tempted to take him up on the offer the heat in his eyes had been making.

Just one night together. Something to remember…

What would he say if she told him the truth?

Not who she was, but the fact that his mere nearness had her body humming with a strange electricity, a slow burn of desire that sizzled under the surface every time he appeared. Her body didn’t do that with other men, even previous boyfriends.

She rubbed at the heat branding the inside of her wrist. The lines there had been on fire all night. She flipped her hand over and gasped. The faint white lines had solidified and come together, now appearing more like a tattoo, the design clear. A sigil, simple and flowing, the design was fascinating. If she guessed correctly, the sign was the sigil for the house of Masters.

“Magi by damned,” she whispered in a broken voice.

The only sigil marks that showed up like a tattoo were those of a bonding—the mark a witch and warlock shared a sacred magically created connection. A vow.

Shifters tended to rely entirely on a fate bond for mating. But the occurrence among mages was possible through magic. Only many didn’t take the option. Love and trust had to be unquestionable, because the act could change their magic.

Only wouldn’t they have had to both agree to the spell?

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