Page 13 of A Warlock for Halloween

“My home.” Pausing, a sweet and satisfied smile transforms his face from handsome to achingly beautiful. “Now, our home.”

Yeah, talk about rushing things a bit.

“Great. I can’t wait to see it,” I say, forcing my voice to remain calm when I want to bolt away from this madness that must be spreading from him to me. If I’m not careful, soon I’ll be fully on board with living here.

“Any changes you want, I’ll gladly make.” His eyes go distant and his voice lowers. “I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

He blinks and his smile returns. Cupping my chin, he places a tiny, gentle kiss on my lips. “After last night, I simply couldn’t imagine another moment without you.”

He makes it sound so romantic.

Shame he’s suffering from delusions.

CHAPTER NINE

NATALIE

Do I test the boundaries of his sanity or play along with his delusions? Who would ever imagine this happening to them? I’m a vet tech, not a crisis therapist. I don’t know what the right way is to handle this so I’m just going to have to do what feels right.

Swallowing hard, I take his hand in mine. “That’s so sweet, Ambrose. But what about my home and my things?”

Frowning, his hand tenses in mine.

“I just moved in two weeks ago, remember? And-”

He cuts me off with a smile and a wave of his free hand. “Ahh… don’t be concerned. I’ll have all your belongings brought here.”

My mind goes blank at his calm, matter of fact answer.

His smile grows as he turns his hand over, pressing his palm to mine, and linking our fingers. Why must he be so deranged and so sweet at the same time?

Life isn’t fair!

I blow out a breath and force another smile. “I’d prefer my belongings to stay at my house. My house that I’m going back to.”

Puzzlement fills his face. “But why?”

It’s a struggle to hold onto my temper and keep my tongue from saying all the things I really want to say. “Why? Because it’smy house. Where I live,” I grit out from between clenched lips that tremble with my efforts to hold onto that smile.

The twin black arches that are his eyebrows lower. “Here is so much nicer,” he argues. “You’ll see.”

Considering I have no phone, no purse, no keys and am wearing a flimsy nightgown and nothing else, I really have little choice at the moment but to stay here until I can get things figured out. Such as where his house is. And how he got me here without me knowing. I wasn’t drugged, at least I don’t feel like I was.

The opened door beckons me, and I scoot away from Ambrose.

Suddenly, the tray is there in my lap again.

“You haven’t finished breakfast.”

Despite my mouth watering at the sight and smell of the plump, red strawberries, I lift the tray away and set it to the side. “I’m not hungry,” I lie, getting off the bed.

Standing, I take stock of the room. It’s much bigger than any bedroom I’ve ever been in. Besides the warlock-sized bed, there’s a fireplace, a couch and two chairs, and even a towering bookshelf stuffed full of books. Not to mention the dark hardwood floor can only be seen in small patches thanks to intricate and colorful rugs taking up much of the floor.

Stepping on one, my bare toes sink in, and a soft moan escapes me. It’s heavenly. No wonder Ambrose went a little crazy and has at least four of these thrown around the room.

At the sound of his chuckle, I look over my shoulder. He’s still lounging on the bed, but there’s no sign of the tray again.

How odd.

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