Page 19 of Bait N' Witch

“Family expectations, at least that’s how it started. My family line has been hunters going back generations. I was proud to carry on the tradition of upholding the laws, keeping our people safe from illegal use of magic and the impacts that can have. I’m good at it.” Usually. Not lately.

“Sounds like there’s more to it.”

He blinked. How did she do that? See through him and beyond his words. “Until recently, I’ve been hunting down a…witch killer.” I shouldn’t be telling her this. She’ll hate me if she finds out I executed the bastard in cold blood. “I can’t say more than that.”

“Of course.” She held up both hands then smiled, but not a real one. More like she’d had to pin this one back in place. As though she’d chased away her own demons.

Now I’m seeing things. Greyson shook off the odd thoughts. He didn’t need her understanding, and she didn’t need his help.

Or maybe that was what she wanted him to think. It seemed to him that Rowan McAuliffe was the last woman to appreciate pity or charity.

Just for something to do, he lifted his cup and took a sip. Immediately a lovely warmth spread through his muscles, relaxing the bunching muscles along his shoulders.

He stared at the pale liquid in one of the dainty cups his wife had insisted they have in the house. “You said this was chamomile and lavender?”

“Mm-hmm.” She said around her own sip. Then sent him a smile.

“No magic?”

“No.” She pulled a face that he would have described as disgusted. Except that made no sense.

“Well it works, whatever it is. I feel more relaxed already.”

That drew a chuckle from her. “My mother used to make this for me.”

“Have you always had trouble sleeping? Usually that’s a mark of a powerful mage, but—” He cut himself off as his own perceptions and prejudices became more real than he liked to admit.

“But someone like me?”

Damn. He’d offended her anyway.

“I didn’t mean—”

Rowan shook her head. “It’s okay. I get that…a lot.” She tossed him a wave and a casual smile that didn’t get anywhere near those silvery eyes. “I’d better say goodnight.”

“Night—” He called after her departing form.

He should probably go to bed himself. Maybe the tea would actually bring sleep. The dark certainly didn’t. It only brought thoughts and doubts and more worries.

“Smooth move,” he muttered at his teacup. Then downed the rest and went to check on the girls before returning to his bed.

Only, when his head hit the pillow, he felt a tiny bit less alone than he had before he’d joined Rowan in the kitchen, and sleep came quickly.

Chapter Seven

Rowan had no idea what she was expecting after the middle of the night moment with Grey. After all, it was just a cup of tea, and she was just his nanny. But somewhere between falling instantly asleep and getting the girls up and ready, she’d convinced herself that last night had to be nothing.

Only she’d been rattled. By his admission that he had problems, too. By the pain in his eyes when she’d brought up his wife. By the way he’d talked about his job as something good for the magical community. He believed that.

But she still shouldn’t trust him. This man had been ordered to hunt her down.

So beyond taking care of his children, her only concern needed to be getting in the way of his investigation and keeping her secrets. Beyond that, keeping her distance was for the best.

Luckily, most of the day she’d managed to stick to that, and Grey seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

That part stung more than she wanted it to. This morning, the girls had been halfway through the scrambled eggs and toast she’d made for breakfast, backpacks already sitting by the door ready to go, when he’d walked in.

Damn, the man could fill out a suit.

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