Page 13 of Captivating Magic

With dread, he shot Ebba a look of apology. “As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I’m sorry.”

“Let it be known she’s speaking for herself.” Her shining eyes locked with Lo’s a second before she turned to Castor. “And she’s saying, thank you, but no.”

A small smile played around her mouth, and Lo had the sudden urge to kiss her until they were both mindless. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the time. They had company and the split-soul issue to take care of first.

“I can’t say I’m not brokenhearted.” Castor placed a hand on his chest in the vicinity of said destroyed organ. “But far be it from me to come between lovers.”

“Oh!” She recoiled, and her expression resembled an owl with its perpetual startled appearance. “We’re not—I don’t—we… Tell him, Lo.”

“We’re not lovers,” he dutifully replied. “Just old friends who intend to become lovers,” he added.

A flush darkened her cheeks, and in her flustered state, her hands flitted about as if they had a mind of their own. “You have to stop saying that!”

“Why? It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No!”

Inside, he winced, but he maintained his careless grin. The pretense was killing him, but he’d be damned if he reacted to the egg on his face in front of the playboy.

Ebba clasped his hand again and stretched to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry. But I need more time.”

“I’m an idiot,” her spirit self muttered. “My brains went by way of my soul, and nothing’s left in that empty-headed shell of mine.”

Meeting her gaze across the short distance, Lo bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He desperately wanted toreply, but the others would buy him a one-way ticket for the loony bin.

“Get me back into that body, and we’ll definitely discuss this further,” she added.

Ebba barely suppressedthe urge to hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. Why in the world was she putting on the brakes with Laszlo when she’d been infatuated with him forever and a day? Maybe because her earlier worries weren’t alleviated yet?

Perhaps.

Truthfully, she doubted he’d be a dud in bed. He was considerate and caring. Kind, too. Added to the mix was his unfailing honesty. Or at least it should’ve been added to the list of things in the pro column. But the one con, as she saw it, wasn’t his magic; it was the fact his family, the people she’d claimed as hers a long time ago and who she thought had claimed her, had lied to her for years. For her entire relationship with them, in fact.

Her phone rang, and she welcomed the opportunity to distance herself from the men.

Liz.

As soon as she saw the caller ID, she rejected the incoming call and placed it face down. For whatever reasons she couldn’t discern, she was less inclined to forgive Liz than Laszlo. Although, in fairness, she should be angry with him as well as the rest of the Thornes for their secret. Why couldn’t she be trusted? What was it about her that screamed, “Lie to me?”

Spencer hadn’t had a problem with that. They’d only went on a handful of dates when she discovered the man was a pathological liar. When she called him on his bullshit, he?—

A sharp, stabbing pain behind her eyes derailed her thought, and she sucked in a breath, pressing her fingertips to her brow bones.

Laszlo was there in an instant.

“What’s wrong?” Concern was heavy in his voice, and in an unexplainable way, his attentiveness bothered her.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, backing away and drawing the notice of the other men. With a tight smile, she entered the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. With her back to the men, she slowly sipped her drink, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Ebba, what’s going on?”

“I’m fine, Laszlo. Give me a minute.”

Why was she irritated with him? It didn’t make sense unless it was residual anger over the lies the Thornes had told her.

But had they truly lied?

Or was it simply a matter of omitting the truth?

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