Page 714 of Love Bites

But had he meantthat?

No, surely he hadn’t meant that she should use the keycard that he had just shoved into her hand to open the door of his room that night, which he had just told her that she totally could do, and join him in the bed, the bed that he had just patted and invited her into?

Nope.

Probably not.

Bethany didn’t move a muscle until she heard the door in the suite’s living room slam.

She could not do this. She could not lust after her boss at the first job where she was not a complete screw-up.

Bethany bonked her forehead against the wall, trying to clear thoughts of naked-Math from her brain—because she suspected that hard, strong cords of muscle wrapped his torso and legs just as much as it thickened his lower arms, and he probably had that sexy vee around his lower abs and dimples on his lower back—and then she went to the suite next door to begin cleaning.

The next suite was another enormous penthouse cluttered with construction crap and coated in a thick layer of drywall dust. Seriously, why had they moved the furniture in before the construction was finished?

Okay, she could do this.

Seventeen successful spells in a row was not any different than sixteen, statistically speaking. Each spell was an individual event, like throwing dice. There was no reason she had to start screwing up now.

Bethany released the ink pots to float around her and meticulously formed the next rune on her drawing pad. She wanted a litter of tiny Pomeranian dogs to retrieve the construction trash and then dust the place with their silky fur.

“Litter of Poms. Litter of Poms,” she chanted as she inked the incantation.

When the spell was ready, Bethany ripped it out of the pad and held it out, inspecting it for even the slightest deviation from her plan.

Nope, it was perfect.

Math must be somewhere down in the accounting department by now, far away from her. She could probably do this even better without him watching her and distracting her with his big, strong arms, chiseled cheekbones and jaw, and clean, slightly smoky scent.

“Okay, don’t give me a wrong litter Pom,” she said, stumbling over her words.

Tragically stumbling.

Bethany breathed on the paper, releasing her magic from her heart and soul and imbuing the paper with power.

Silver and purple sparks streamed from the rune, disintegrating the ragstock paper. Fire coalesced in the center of the room, hovering above the bed as the sparks swirled into a ball.

That didn’t look quite right.

The sparkling miasma spun into shapes that almost looked like dogs, but then the whole thing contracted into a small, hard sphere.

A sparkly sphere.

A glittering orb.

“Oh, no,” Bethany gasped, horror dawning on her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and flung her arms over her face.

The bomb detonated, spraying the room with gallons of glitter.

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