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Hot Spell
Michelle Rowen


Everybody knows there's no love lost between paranormal investigators Amanda LaGrange and sexy Jacob Caine. They can't even stand being in the same room together. . . .Well, unless it's an enchanted bedroom. And they're trapped there, at midnight. And the sexual tension suddenly becomes too powerful to resist. . . Then that bedroom gets really hot, really fast! But come morning, they still can't keep their hands off each other. Are they cursed forever? If so, neither one's complaining.









“I think we might be trapped in here,” Jacob said


Instead of being upset at the idea, Amanda felt a warm thrill go through her. She so wasn’t thinking straight.

He was breathing faster now as his gaze traveled the length of her. “I need to warn you that I’m not feeling in control of myself here.” He stalked over toward her and she braced herself, expecting him to kiss her, hoping he’d kiss her. Instead, he breezed past her to a small table where there was a heavy brass candleholder. Holding it out to her, he said, “Preventative measures.”

“For what?” she asked, taking the candlestick.

“You need to knock me out. Bash me on the head. Then you’ll be safe. I don’t want to do anything I’m going to regret.”

At her puzzled look, he continued. “I don’t want to force myself on you. I feel an overwhelming compulsion to throw you on the bed over there and take you hard and fast. It’s close to uncontrollable. So knock me out while you have the chance.”

She considered the candlestick for a moment, then slowly put it down. Then, holding his gaze, she took his hand and guided it to her breast….







Dear Reader,

Hot Spell, my first book for Harlequin Blaze, was inspired by three little words spoken on a talk show about how love can “feel like magic.”

Jacob Caine and Amanda LaGrange are clearly—at least to me and their matchmaking boss—meant for each other. But because of that stubborn streak both of them have, self-protection, denial, practicality, the wrong thing said at the wrong time—or all of the above—they’re going to need a little push.

A little…magical…push.

Thanks to an enchanted grandfather clock the two paranormal investigators uncover in a haunted house at the stroke of midnight, they’re going to find out exactly how much love can feel like magic—whether they’re ready for that particular discovery or not.

I’m thrilled to not only get the chance to write for my favorite Harlequin line, but to have my release during their sixtieth anniversary celebrations. It’s truly an honor!

Happy reading…

Michelle Rowen




Michelle Rowen

HOT SPELL










ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Michelle Rowen is an award-winning, bestselling author of multiple paranormal romance novels, including the Immortality Bites vampire series. Hot Spell is her first book for Harlequin Blaze. A voracious but picky reader, TV viewer and movie watcher, she prefers all her entertainment to include a happily-ever-after…or else! Michelle is currently in treatment for serious Twitter and Facebook addictions. Please visit her online at www.michellerowen.com.


Thank you to my editor Brenda Chin and fellow Blaze authors Kelley St. John and Alison Kent for all their help and general fabulousness.




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17




1


AMANDA LAGRANGE shook her head so vigorously it felt as though it might come loose from her shoulders. “Please, not him. Anyone but him.”

“Jacob’s the only agent currently available, and we need this house investigated tonight. The owner paid extra for an immediate assessment.” Patrick McKay’s voice was firm.

It was pointless to argue. Knowing Patrick, her boss, there was no way she’d be able to get out of this. Besides, making a fuss about her last official assignment for the Paranormal Assessment and Recovery Agency would make her look childish.

She finally sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

“I don’t understand why you two can’t stand each other after all this time. Why is that again?” Patrick sounded both curious and distracted. He was a born multitasker, and was currently having a conversation with Amanda while he replied to a long list of text messages from other agents on his BlackBerry.

“It’s…it’s just…many reasons. Too many to list.”

PARA had hired Jacob Caine two years ago because of his empathic abilities. He could get a sense of people and places just by touch. Before that, he’d worked as a private detective for five years. Both talents came in very handy at an agency that investigated paranormal phenomena. PARA agents were often called in to assess haunted properties and cursed or enchanted objects, and would then take the necessary precautions to ensure no one was harmed.

Jacob had it easy, like many of the other agents in-house. He hadn’t even known he was psychic until recently.

Amanda? Not so much.

She’d seen her first ghost—and had a pleasant conversation with him, in fact—when she was only eight years old. At the time, it had been natural and not scary at all. However, that encounter had led to many others in quick succession, and some of the ghosts weren’t as friendly as the first. Her frightened parents had tried to get her to stop, but it wasn’t as though she’d been trying to attract otherworldly attention—it just happened. Ghosts were drawn to her. One ghost, annoyed at being interrupted by her father, had pushed him down a flight of stairs. Luckily, other than a twisted ankle, he wasn’t injured, but the event did its damage in another way.

Not able to deal with his daughter being a “ghost-magnet freak,” which was how he’d put it at the time, Ed LaGrange had packed his bags and left Amanda and her mother that very night. She’d never spoken to him again.

The memory still brought a painful lump of emotion to her throat.

Her mother blamed Amanda and her clairvoyant ability for shattering their home. Amanda grew up feeling like more of an outcast every day of her childhood. Her being different had destroyed her family.

Being at school didn’t help, either. Normal kids gave her the nickname “Amanda the Strange,” which, while not a terribly original taunt, came to represent verbally everything she hated about herself. She was a freak—she was strange.

Therefore, she had tried as hard as possible to ignore her psychic abilities. It had worked for a while, at least until PARA came to her college looking for potential agents. Patrick McKay had seen Amanda’s file, met with her personally, and offered her enough money to justify dipping back into her despised abilities.

Other than the money, the bright side of working for PARA was that there were other agents who subsequently became her good friends—kind of like a bizarre extended family. She was invited to their weekly “tequila and séance” parties. She’d gone a couple of times since her best friend Vicky, another clairvoyant, rarely took no for an answer in pushing Amanda to get out and have more fun, but it wasn’t really her scene.

Even though she was surrounded by happy psychics who liked her and who she liked in return, she’d never gotten over her father’s rejection and her childhood traumas. It had made her the woman she was today, for better or for worse.

As far as her dating life—well, she tried not to tell her boyfriends about her psychic abilities at first—or at all, if possible. PARA agents were a close-knit group, but “normal men” outside that circle didn’t understand or were scared off by anything unusual—just like her father and schoolmates had been. When Amanda’s boyfriends found out her secret, they usually found the nearest exit as quickly as possible.

And then there was Jacob Caine. Decidedly not a normal man.

She’d met him at a staff party held at O’Grady’s, a local pub, two years ago, shortly after he’d moved to the area and joined the agency. Her friends, especially Vicky, had already told her how hot the new recruit was, how devastatingly charming, and how most of them—the single or even not so single—wanted to have extremely imaginative sex with him. Like, immediately.

And he was. Hot, that is. Darkly attractive with short, scruffy black hair and flashing green eyes framed with thick black lashes. He dressed casually—no tie for him. She could vividly recall his navy-blue shirt being unbuttoned at the neck that night to reveal a glimpse of his obviously chiseled torso. He was six feet tall with broad shoulders, lean hips…and an amazing ass.

At least, that had been her first impression.

Instant attraction.

Amanda’s mouth had literally watered at the sight of him despite the fact she wasn’t usually romantically drawn to fellow psychics. Then again, she’d been celibate for over a year after a bad break-up—another guy who’d freaked at the thought she could talk to ghosts—so she was certain that was to blame for her heightened sensitivity to such a fine specimen of male hotness.

From across the room, Jacob caught her staring and their eyes met. She was sure he’d be able to tell just from a glance that she wanted to climb onto his gorgeous body and do things to him she wouldn’t even trust to her diary.

He disengaged from the throng of cleavage-revealing women and came toward her with his hand extended.

“I’m Jacob,” he said without losing her gaze. “And you are?”

“Amanda.” She inhaled sharply as she felt the strength and warmth of his long fingers wrap around hers. An unbidden surge of desire curled inside her. His aftershave was a spicy musk with just a hint of cinnamon and a whole lot of man.

He frowned, but she had no idea why. Maybe it was because she was practically drooling on him.

Pull yourself together, she commanded herself.

“Something wrong?” she asked when his grip tightened.

“No…” But his frown deepened as he looked down at her hand. “It’s odd. It’s like you have a psychic wall up around yourself. I normally get a sense of someone when I touch them for the first time, but I’m getting nothing from you at all.”

“You can get something from me if you come over here!” Vicky called from their far left before laughing suggestively. Amanda repressed a smile and an eye-roll at her friend’s enthusiasm and returned her attention to the gorgeous man in front of her.

“No walls, I assure you,” she said. “Maybe I’m just special.”

His eyes snapped back up to hers. “Maybe you are.” The frown disappeared, replaced instead by a killer smile. “Amanda, you said?”

“That’s right.”

He nodded. “They already told me about you. You’re the one they call Amanda the Strange, right?”

She tensed. “It’s LaGrange. But yeah, that’s me. Strangeness incorporated.”

An ice-cold sensation immediately swept over her at the sound of the despised nickname that represented everything about her that she hated. Why would he say that to her? To get some sort of a reaction? And who’d told him that?

So much for letting down her guard and getting drunk on tequila with Vicky and the gang last week and sharing soul-crushing childhood stories. That wouldn’t happen again.

She finally yanked her hand back from Jacob’s. He looked at her oddly.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“Wrong?” Her jaw felt tight. “No, of course not. I…uh, I have to go.”

Damn, she’d been having such a good night, too. How was it possible that three little words could ruin everything?

Jacob grabbed her wrist. “I thought we might be able to talk for a bit.”

So he could insult her more? Yeah. That sounded like a plan.

“I guess you thought wrong,” she said, the iciness in her voice matching the chill she felt inside. “There are lots of women here who will be happy to talk to you. Or more, if you like. Trust me, you won’t miss me.”

“Amanda, wait—”

She fixed a frozen smile on her face. She needed to get out of there. “Welcome to PARA, Jacob. I’m sure everyone will be as delighted to meet you as I’ve been.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Is that sarcasm I hear?”

“You’re very insightful. You must be psychic.”

He studied her closely. “I guess first impressions are misleading. I thought we might hit it off.”

Amanda had no idea why she wanted to cry. Why was she letting this guy affect her so strongly? It felt as though he could see right through to the vast and varied weaknesses she tried desperately to hide from everyone. Hell, maybe she did put up psychic walls around herself without even realizing it.

Just being near him suddenly made her very uncomfortable.

She gave him a practiced withering look that helped to hide when she was feeling more than a little vulnerable. “I guess you thought wrong.”

“Well, then, it was delightful meeting you, too, Amanda.” He turned away, but then glanced back over his shoulder, his green eyes narrowed. “By the way, that was also sarcasm.”

And then he returned to his waiting swarm of admirers and didn’t look back.

Vicky ran over to see how everything had gone during her conversation with the new hottie. Amanda had kept her answers vague and then excused herself from the party early. She’d had enough.

It was definitely true what they said—don’t judge a book by its cover. Jacob Caine had a mighty fine cover, but she wasn’t interested in reading any further.

But for a moment there, when their eyes first met…that rare instant attraction she’d felt…

Well, it didn’t really matter. Amanda was much too practical to believe in love at first sight.

She’d felt strongly enough about their unpleasant meeting that she’d asked Patrick not to pair her and Jacob for any assignments together and he’d agreed. PARA had over two dozen agents so it was an easy problem to avoid. If she saw Jacob in passing, she’d make polite small talk about the weather or traffic, but even then she tried to get away from him as quickly as possible.

From the tightness in Jacob’s jaw whenever they spoke, it was obvious that he wasn’t all that fond of her, either.

It was really unfortunate that, despite everything, she still found him as devastatingly attractive as she had the first time she’d seen him.

Annoying, really.

And now, after all this time, Patrick was going to make them work together.

Less than a week and she’d be saying good-bye to her friends at PARA—the ones who made life as a psychic almost bearable—and moving to New York City to work for her boyfriend, David K. Smith, in his advertising agency. Selling advertising was about as far removed from investigating paranormal phenomena as you could get…and that would be a huge relief for her. She was starting her life all over again at the ripe old age of twenty-seven.

While David knew she worked for PARA, he didn’t know in what capacity. She hadn’t told him she could talk to ghosts at all. Better safe than sorry.

And he didn’t have to know. When she left Mystic Ridge for good she’d put her past behind her and get the chance to be completely and totally normal.

Finally.

“Jacob will pick you up outside in ten minutes,” Patrick said. He’d finished answering his e-mails while she’d been lost in her thoughts.

He glanced up at her from his high-tech wheelchair. He’d had a run-in with a very unpleasant poltergeist six months ago that had sent him headfirst down a flight of stairs—a scary reminder of what had happened to her father. Patrick was still recovering from a near-fatal spinal cord injury. Since he was a friend, as well as a great boss, Amanda was just happy and relieved he’d lived to tell the tale.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“This assignment tonight with Jacob. You’re mad I’m leaving, aren’t you?”

Patrick put his BlackBerry down on his desk and spread his hands. “You have to do what you have to do, Amanda. As long as you think quitting PARA will make you happy, then I fully support your decision.”

She nodded stiffly, swallowing past a huge lump that had formed in her throat. Quitting PARA would make her happy—she knew it. The only thing that made it hard was knowing she wouldn’t be seeing Patrick, Vicky and the others on a daily basis anymore. “Well, good.”

“However, we are throwing you a going-away party.” He grinned at her and his blue eyes twinkled with good humor. “And attendance is required. Tuesday night at O’Grady’s. Drinks are on me.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. Patrick would find any excuse for a party. “I’ll be there.”

“I’m picking up the cake, too. Got a preference? Chocolate, vanilla…maybe rum?”

“Rum,” she said as her smile widened. “Definitely rum.”

She could use a little bit of the booze right now. It might make spending the rest of her evening with Jacob Caine remotely bearable.



PATRICK WATCHED Amanda leave his office. She was uncomfortable at the prospect of being partnered with Jacob. It was obvious.

But it had to be done.

Maybe it was because he’d been stuck in the damn wheelchair for so long that he’d started interfering in people’s lives. Too much time to sit and think…and observe.

Amanda was making a huge mistake by quitting PARA and leaving the friends who loved and accepted her to go off with a man she obviously, to Patrick at least, didn’t love. He saw it in her eyes, a growing dullness, an acceptance that life was not supposed to be extraordinary.

Since his accident, Patrick knew firsthand that life was a gift—every damn day was—and if you didn’t accept it, sooner or later it might be snatched away right in front of you.

He’d seen a spark of passion in Amanda’s eyes, though. Whenever the beautiful brunette saw Jacob she seemed to fill with life. She claimed to dislike him for reasons she’d never properly explained, but Patrick was far from convinced when that flush came to her cheeks as it had just now. And he’d seen the same intensity in Jacob’s gaze, as well.

Patrick rubbed his temples. When exactly had he been appointed resident cupid? Hell if he knew, but it was the least he could do when the evidence presented itself so clearly that the two of them belonged together.

One attempt. That’s all they got. Make them work together, make them spend time together before Amanda left for what she considered her shiny new life for good, and see what happened.

Maybe they’d kill each other. That was possible. It might be better than the grudging acceptance both of them seemed to have of their current lackluster lives.

If they were forced to spend a few hours in each other’s company, Patrick was fairly certain something would happen between them. The only question was…what?



JACOB’S KNUCKLES had already turned white. He gripped the steering wheel of his ’68 black Mustang convertible parked at the curb in front of the PARA office and tried to breathe normally.

Even if he had to be stuck with her on this assignment, why exactly had Patrick insisted that they drive to the location together? It was ridiculous. Not to mention stupid. Dumb. Pointless. Annoying. All of the above.

His boss obviously had it in for him to pair him up with Amanda the Strange tonight. Did he want Jacob to quit?

Honestly. If he didn’t love his job—the only damn thing in his life that gave him any sense of purpose anymore—then he’d quit in a heartbeat. He didn’t need this kind of trouble.

And here she comes now, he thought with a sinking feeling. Miss Trouble, herself.

The tall glass doors of the office building opened and Amanda slowly made her way toward his car. He could already feel the ice-blue gaze that seemed to penetrate right down to his very core. Her dark hair was pulled back from her gorgeous face in a sleek ponytail. Long bangs swept over her forehead. Today she wore a thin teal V-neck sweater over blue jeans. Casual for her, he thought absently. The sweater was tight enough for him to see clearly the generous swell of her breasts. His own jeans became tighter at the sight of her—but only in the front.

His knuckles whitened even more on the steering wheel.

He hated that she affected him like this. Other than lusting after her body for two years now, he honestly couldn’t stand the woman.

Why should he? She obviously despised him.

With one contemptuous look at the party where they first met, Amanda had stared a hole right through him to the other side as if her beautiful baby blues had laser beams hooked up to them. He’d felt naked and exposed, and not in a fun handcuffs-and-bedpost sort of way.

What the hell happened? he wondered, and not for the first time since that night.

He still didn’t know. One moment they were introducing themselves to each other and he was falling very quickly into those gorgeous eyes of hers, and the next moment she was giving him the freezing-cold shoulder. He just wished he’d been able to get an empathic read on her. It would have helped to pinpoint exactly what had turned her off about him. She’d said she didn’t have psychic walls up to block him, but he was less convinced.

It would make things much easier if he’d been able to forget about her and not want her nearly every day since. What did they say about the unattainable? Made it that much more exciting?

It wasn’t exciting. Torturous and uncomfortable, yes. Exciting, no.

She was definitely his weakness. And he had to overcome his pointless attraction to her. Tonight would be a great chance—especially since he’d heard she was quitting PARA soon—to finally get the beautiful clairvoyant out of his system.

Hell, two years ago he hadn’t believed in any of this psychic stuff. He’d been a regular guy with a regular job and a fiancée he planned to marry—that is, until he caught her in bed with his best friend. Sounded like the ultimate cliché, but it still stung like hell.

At the time, PARA had been secretly checking out his background. They’d found out he had certain abilities, abilities that he’d always written off to intuition and luck, and they offered him a job at exactly the right time. He enthusiastically took the chance of leaving his old life to come to the small town of Mystic Ridge in upper New York state, where the PARA headquarters were located. But the scars had already formed over his heart. He’d trusted not one but two people, and they’d both screwed him over. Or, he supposed, they’d screwed each other and he’d simply been left out in the cold.

Then they’d gotten married four months later claiming that they were madly in love. Insult to injury. Definitely.

His plan for revenge? To drink a great deal of alcohol. Also to have sex with as many women as would let him. To his surprise, there were a whole lot of women who would, which was great for a while, fantastic even, at least until he realized that maybe he wanted a bit more than a series of empty one-night stands.

Then he’d met her—Amanda LaGrange—and for the briefest of moments when their eyes met across the room that night he felt his scarred heart start to pound a little faster. At least, until she dug her designer stiletto heel into it.

He took the hint.

Whatever. He was happy working for PARA and having an exciting and varied sex life. It worked for him and he hadn’t received any complaints yet.

He tensed as Amanda opened up the passenger-side door of the Mustang and got in. She had a fake, frozen smile plastered on her face. He recognized it. It was the same fake, frozen smile she always wore in his presence.

The smile that made him focus on her full red lips and wonder what they’d taste like.

No, he thought immediately. She has no effect on you anymore, remember? Be strong.

“Jacob,” she said simply.

“That’s my name,” he replied. “How’ve you been, Amanda?”

“Wonderful,” she said.

“Good to hear.” He shifted into first gear and pulled away from the curb. “I don’t think you’ve ever been in my car before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

And that was about the end of his reserve of small talk. With a two-hour drive ahead of them, that might pose a bit of a problem.

“Patrick briefed me on the assignment earlier and wanted me to fill you in.” She reached into the bag she’d brought with her to pull out a notebook filled with page after page of her neat, precise handwriting. “A woman named Sheila Davis recently inherited the property from a distant uncle. While doing a walk-through she heard strange noises and had a sense of being pushed out of the house. That’s when she contacted us for an immediate assessment.”

“She’s scared to live there?”

“No. Actually, she thinks a haunted house will reduce the property value. She wants to sell and turn a quick profit and is planning an open house next week. So we go in, determine if there needs to be an exorcism performed, and then we leave. I figure it won’t take more than twenty minutes.”

She was wearing that perfume he liked.

Dammit to hell, he thought angrily.

He shifted position in his seat trying to ignore her very warm, feminine presence so close to him. Was it the fact that he knew he couldn’t have her that made him feel this way?

But, no. He didn’t want her. He could have any woman he wanted, and Amanda the Strange was not even on the list anymore.

Vanilla, he thought then. Her perfume smelled like vanilla. Edible. Delicious.

His grip on the steering wheel was so tight by now he thought he might be able to yank it right out of the dashboard if he tried. He realized that taking on this assignment tonight had been a huge, regrettable mistake. But Patrick had practically begged him, and he didn’t want to let his boss down.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked after a moment.

“Yeah, sure. Haunted house. We’re checking it out. Routine stuff. In and out in twenty minutes. No problem.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Is everything all right? You seem a bit distracted.”

He pushed a reasonable facsimile of a smile onto his face. “I appreciate your concern.” He concentrated on the road ahead. “So is it true?”

“What?”

“You’re quitting PARA? Heading to the Big Apple?”

She closed her notebook and slid it back into her bag. “It’s true.”

“When are you through?”

“This is my last field assignment.” She gazed out of the passenger-side window. “Patrick says they’re throwing me a going-away party Tuesday, so I get to say goodbye to everyone. I’m going to miss them all so much. But other than that and packing, I should be out of here the day after.”

Less than a week. The thought that she was leaving soon should have given him a sense of relief, but it didn’t. Not even close. In fact, it made his stomach twist unpleasantly at the thought that he’d probably never see her again.

It made no sense to him at all. Why did he give a damn either way? The woman could barely stand to be in the same car as him.

Holding on to that thought should have made things much simpler.

No such luck.




2


“GREAT WEATHER we’re having, isn’t it?” Jacob said tightly an hour and a half into the drive. It was the first thing he’d said for over forty-five minutes.

Amanda smiled and nodded. “June is my favorite month.”

She stared out of the window but there was nothing to see in the darkness except the side of the highway racing past. A quick check of her watch told her it was nearly ten-thirty. She’d attempted to make notes in her notebook, but it was too dark, and having Jacob so close to her made it hard for her to concentrate.

He wore black jeans and a gray T-shirt that bared his strong forearms and muscled biceps, the thin material molding to his body so she could practically count his six-pack abs underneath.

Not that she was looking, of course.

She bit her bottom lip and studied the boring view out the window and thought about her boyfriend David. A wonderfully normal, respectable man with whom she’d never had one single argument.

It was his suggestion that she leave her job at PARA to work for him in the New York City office. He’d given her a choice, one that she’d never had before. She could continue living the life of Amanda the Strange—her words, not his—or she could have a chance to be Amanda the Normal.

Starting over in a fresh city with David never knowing about her psychic abilities meant she’d be consciously turning her back on her old life.

Which also, unfortunately but necessarily, included her friends, like Vicky, who didn’t understand why Amanda was so adamant about making this major change in her life.

When she moved to the city she would turn off the part of her brain that allowed her to communicate with ghosts and sense other supernatural presences. She wouldn’t use her abilities at all. She hoped that, over time, they’d fade away to nothing.

Her mother would be thrilled. Amanda had yet to share this news with Madeleine Harper—the last name taken from her new husband—who lived three hours south and rarely saw her daughter. She still blamed Amanda, even after all these years, for her first husband’s decision to abandon their family.

Which was understandable. Even after nearly twenty years, Amanda still blamed herself.

Moving is the right thing to do, she reminded herself for the millionth time. Even so, there was the smallest piece of herself, buried down very, very deep that wasn’t so sure this was the ultimate key to happiness. That piece was small enough to repress, so that’s what she did. In five little days she’d be leaving Mystic Ridge for good, and she wouldn’t look back.

“You can always change your mind,” Jacob said.

She blinked and turned to face him. “Pardon me?”

“If you change your mind about quitting, I’m sure Patrick would be okay with that.”

His comment had thrown her a bit. He couldn’t know what she was thinking, could he? No, of course not. Obviously he was just trying to make conversation and the subject of her resigning from PARA was the obvious choice.

“I won’t change my mind,” she said firmly.

“So when you make a decision you stick to it, no matter what?”

“That’s right.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure there are dozens of people who’d love to have your job, so Patrick won’t have a problem finding a suitable replacement for you.”

The thought that she might be so easily substituted hurt a little. “I’m sure he won’t.”

Jacob focused on the road ahead, but his brow lowered into a frown. “I’m just saying that if you’re doing this so your new boyfriend will accept you, then that’s a pretty lousy reason to turn your life upside down.”

He’d been talking to somebody who had extremely loose lips. But who?

Of course, she thought with annoyance. Vicky.

Vicky had wanted to get Jacob alone and naked since he’d started at PARA and she’d managed to land an official date with him last month. She’d had a smile on her face for days and it was all Amanda could do to avoid hearing the sordid details of Jacob’s sexual prowess.

The stab she’d felt in her gut when her best friend had informed her about the date had not meant she was jealous. The thought of Vicky running her hands all over Jacob’s admittedly perfect body didn’t bother her at all. Because that would be ridiculous. They were both consenting, condom-carrying adults, after all, and it was a free country.

She did know Jacob hadn’t called Vicky back for a second date. And that news hadn’t been met with any relief or happiness on Amanda’s part. How petty would that be?

Frankly, she didn’t want to know the details of anyone’s sex life—especially Jacob Caine’s. The point was, Vicky had obviously gossiped to Jacob—before, after or during their tryst—about Amanda’s situation.

“I’m not turning my life upside down,” she said as firmly as she could. “This has nothing to do with David. It’s my decision.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “Sure it is.”

“You don’t think I can make my own decisions in life?”

“All I know is that a woman who is obviously gifted in ways that can help other people is giving up her God-given talents to go hock advertising at her boyfriend’s agency and leaving behind her friends and everything she’s ever known.”

Hock advertising? He made it sound so unpleasant.

Jacob was trying to unnerve her and she’d be damned if she let him know he could succeed so easily.

“I’m happy with my decision,” she said with resolve. “Thrilled, in fact. It’s what I want.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“You,” she forced herself to smile at him, “are entitled to your opinion.”

He eyed her. “Do you do that with everyone?”

The smile remained. “Do what?”

“Put on that false exterior? Do you even realize you’re doing it? Maybe you don’t. Maybe this is just how you always are. I wouldn’t know since you’ve avoided me from the moment we met, so we’ve never really gotten a chance to get to know each other.”

“I don’t avoid you,” she said.

He laughed. “Are you serious?”

“Our paths rarely cross at the office, sure, but it doesn’t mean that I’m avoiding you. That doesn’t make any sense. I barely even know you.”

“If that’s true, then I’m not exactly sure why you hate my guts.”

Why were they having this discussion? She felt trapped, which, since they were speeding along the highway at seventy miles an hour, was quite accurate. “I don’t hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Why can’t this drive be nice and relaxing without any conflict?”

“Good question. I guess now that I know you’re definitely leaving, I’m kind of curious about everything.” He took his attention off the road again long enough to look at her long and hard. “Even though you have those walls up and I can’t get an empathic read on you, I can still see the truth. You might be able to pull the wool over everyone else’s eyes, but you can’t lie to me.”

Her face felt warm. She hated how he seemed to know her so well. But he didn’t. He didn’t know her at all. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.”

“Then I guess we’re even, because I can read you like a book. I know exactly what you’re thinking, Jacob, and your opinion means nothing to me.”

The words hung heavily in the air between them as they studied each other for a long moment.

Then he snorted. “You’re still lying. You can’t read my mind. If you could, I don’t think you’d like what I’m thinking.”

His gaze flicked to the road for a second and then moved down the front of her, lingering at her breasts, then moving to her legs and back up again. While making her extremely self-conscious, his rude and blatant appraisal also made her nipples harden and heat spread across her skin. She felt a strange ache inside her and suddenly realized it was difficult for her to breathe normally.

She focused on his hands holding tightly to the steering wheel and in her imagination they were holding on to her, skimming her bare skin, pulling away her lacy bra to squeeze her taut nipples while his mouth took hers.

She rolled down the window a crack to get some fresh air and then cleared her throat. “I’m not lying.”

“You are. It’s obvious. Do you lie to David, too?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

His lips quirked. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, actually it does.”

“I met David once in passing when he came by the office looking for you. Seemed like a real stand-up kind of guy.”

“If you mean that he’s honest and reliable, then yes, he is.”

“Sounds exciting.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I guess compared to having fifty one-night stands already this year, my life doesn’t sound that great, but I don’t really care what you think.”

“Fifty?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why, Miss LaGrange, I had no idea you were keeping track for me.”

Her face now blazed with heat. “I’m not.”

“I don’t think it’s fifty yet. Low-forties, maybe.” He grinned. “Then again, we’re only halfway through the year, aren’t we?”

Great, she was amusing him. That hadn’t exactly been her goal. What was her goal, again? She wanted to go to the allegedly haunted house, assess it for the presence of supernatural activity and get the hell out of there. None of which had anything to do with Jacob or his sexual conquests. She should have simply refused the assignment. Patrick would have found somebody else. The property owner could have waited a day or two with no harm done as long as she stayed out of the house.

“When you leave, who’s going to keep count of the bevy of beautiful women I apparently have at my beck and call?” Jacob continued. “I’ll have to buy one of those click-counter devices.” He was silent for a blissful moment. “Maybe you’re looking for a boring commitment from David, but that’s never been what I’ve been looking for.”

“I’m sure your ex-fiancée would be interested to hear that,” she said evenly.

His expression froze. “What did you say?”

“Your ex-fiancée,” Amanda repeated. “Before you met her you were not the ladies’ man you are now. During your three-year relationship you were completely monogamous. It’s only after she left that you’ve become this macho, no-need-for-commitment Lothario.”

She’d thrown out her knowledge of his past as a diversion to move away from her own issues and it looked as though it had worked, although not exactly in the way she’d intended. Even in the darkness of the car’s interior she could tell that his face had paled at the mention of his ex.

When a new member of PARA was being recruited, extensive research was done on individuals who exhibited psychic abilities. Jacob had been pegged as a potential candidate and his life thoroughly investigated to make sure he had no ties to crime or other dark and nefarious forces. Amanda had handled the paperwork. If she had a choice, working within the agency was her preferred gig, rather than field assignments that forced her to tap into her hated abilities. That’s how she knew that he’d had a broken engagement before moving to Mystic Ridge to take the job. She also knew the cause of the break-up was that his fiancée had been unfaithful to him.

She’d always assumed that, based on his lifestyle, it hadn’t bothered him, but from his current expression she had to reassess that opinion. The breakup had been a bad one for him and it obviously still hurt. The pain in his eyes made her immediately regret saying anything at all.

Her stomach twisted in automatic sympathy for his pain. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories for you.”

“My personal life is none of your damn business.” The words were spoken softly but there was a sharp edge of anger behind them.

“Nor is mine yours,” she said simply, fighting the feeling of guilt she now had.

“Understood.”

Their eyes met and held.

The sound of a horn a few seconds later, loud and ear-shattering, made her jump, and a quick glance out of the windshield revealed a large set of oncoming headlights. She screamed and Jacob clamped down on the steering wheel to lurch the car away from the middle of the road. The transport truck that had nearly crashed into them continued to honk its horn as if to remind them how very close they’d come to a head-on collision. Jacob pulled off the road onto the side, his chest moving in and out. Amanda’s heart slammed against her rib cage.

Then she realized that Jacob had put his hand on her thigh in a protective motion. His firm touch seared through her jeans and into her skin. If he slid his hand up only a few more inches…

She swallowed hard and her heart began to beat even faster than before.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded shakily. “Are you?”

The scent of his aftershave filled her senses; the rush of almost crashing, almost dying, the feel of his hand on her thigh made things low in her body ache with a dark and dangerous need she wasn’t used to. His hand tightened on her leg, moving a fraction toward her inner thigh. He looked down at where he was touching her as if surprised she wasn’t slapping his hand away from such intimate contact.

There was no way he couldn’t see her nipples now pressing against the thin fabric of her cashmere sweater. As if he again read her thoughts, his gaze moved to her chest and he began to stroke her thigh with his thumb. It was all she could do to stop herself from arching against his touch and begging him to kiss her.

Then, suddenly, he released her. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I need to keep my eyes on the road. That’s never happened before. I must be tired.”

“It’s fine,” she managed.

He pulled the car back onto the road. “We’re almost there, anyhow. Like you said, twenty minutes to check it out, and then we can leave.”

“Good.”

She pressed back into the seat and studied the road ahead, her body still tingling where Jacob had touched her.




3


IT WAS obvious to him now, after nearly slamming head-on into a transport truck. His continuing attraction to Amanda was going to kill him.

Literally.

It was a good thing they’d never been partnered before. He’d probably already be dead. The raging hard-on he was currently dealing with alone might kill him.

Jacob shook his head, silently chastising himself. Amanda had her own life. She was moving three hundred miles away and good riddance to her. He much preferred to be fully in charge of his emotions, and, for that matter, his cock.

He did find it more than a little interesting that she seemed to have taken an interest in his sex life. Fifty one-night stands? That was one hell of an overestimation. When he needed to let some steam off he rarely had any problems finding somebody willing to help him out, but fifty?

Hell, most nights he stayed home with a six-pack of Bud and the Playboy channel. Sad but true, lately it gave him almost as much satisfaction as the real thing. He’d definitely hit a slump. Two years since his big break-up and move to Mystic Ridge and he hadn’t found a single woman that interested him enough to see more than once.

Obviously the fault was with him. He knew it. He just wasn’t quite ready to deal with that yet.

“We’re here,” he said after what seemed like an eternity of silence between them. It had really only been a half hour since the brush with death…and the distracting contact with Amanda’s jeans-clad thigh.

He pulled into the driveway of the house set on a large lot. The house itself looked to be at least a hundred years old and the drive was flanked by thick oak trees that would have made the area dark even at noon.

Another car—a silver Volkswagen Jetta—idled in front of them and as soon as they pulled up a small woman with curly red hair, lit by Jacob’s headlights, stepped out of it. She beckoned them to join her.

“Guess we’re on the clock already,” Jacob said.

“Then let’s get it over with,” Amanda replied curtly. She quickly gathered her paperwork together, opened the passenger-side door, and got out.

Let’s get it over with. For some reason the phrase amused him. Was that how she might view a hot night of sex with her true love, David K. Smith?

“Let’s get it over with, honey.”

Sounded about right.

Pushing any thoughts of Amanda and sex out of his head, Jacob got out of the car to join his partner-of-the-moment in front of the irate-looking woman.

“I’ve been waiting for an hour already,” she snapped.

Jacob tensed at the shrill, impatient tone. He was about to open his mouth to say something, probably along the lines of “Chill out, lady, we’re here now,” when Amanda beat him to the punch.

“We apologize for any inconvenience, Mrs. Davis—”

“It’s Ms. Davis.”

What a huge surprise, Jacob thought dryly.

“Ms. Davis,” Amanda repeated, and then smiled warmly at the unpleasant woman. “But we did get here as soon as we could. This location is a fair drive for us.”

“That’s no excuse.”

Jacob was surprised that Amanda’s smile held. Hell, if he’d given her this much of a problem she’d be giving him the death glare by now.

Her death glare was kind of cute.

Amanda’s smile, though, did weaken a bit at the edges as she juggled her papers. She loved paperwork. He knew that. However, he hadn’t been aware that some of the paperwork she’d handled had to do with him and his past. It had made him more than a little uncomfortable when she’d brought up the subject of his ex-fiancée.

Served him right. She’d only been giving him a very big sign to stay away from her personal issues. It was only fair.

Best to keep things just business between them. No personal issues need apply.

Still, it bothered him. He would have rather kept up the facade of an unrepentant ladies’ man than some fool still nursing a broken heart.

Besides, he wasn’t nursing that broken heart anymore. He’d thrown it away. That’s what you did with broken things. You got rid of them so they didn’t cause unnecessary clutter.

A few pages from Amanda’s stack came loose and fluttered to the ground. She grabbed at them as Ms. Davis raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s move this along, dear. I don’t have all night.”

Amanda’s face flushed. Jacob leaned over and picked up some of the fallen pages and handed them back to her. She looked frustrated.

It was okay. He’d handle this.

“Ms. Davis,” he said out loud, turning toward the short redhead and giving her one of his very best smiles. He extended his hand to her. “I’m Jacob Caine.”

She hesitated for a brief moment, and then shook his hand.

That was all he needed. The skin-to-skin contact helped him get an empathic read on her. She obviously had no psychic abilities. Since joining PARA, he’d found that some psychics, such as Amanda, were a blank page to him. This woman on the other hand was wide open. He got the immediate impression she was equal parts lonely and needy.

He could totally work with that.

He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “What I want to know is why a beautiful woman like yourself would want to live in such a dreary house like this. I see you in a high-rise condo in a big city. Very cosmopolitan.”

Her thin eyebrows raised. “You’re a very good psychic. I actually have an offer in on a new complex in Chicago as we speak.”

“The perfect city,” he said. “I’m actually from Chicago originally myself. I moved away from there two years ago.”

“Really?”

He nodded. Well, to be quite honest, he was from Seattle, but that wouldn’t help at all at the moment. White lies for the right reasons were totally acceptable.

“This is Amanda LaGrange.” He nodded toward the beautiful brunette next to him who regarded him with a bemused expression as he worked his own personal kind of magic. A magic he liked to call natural charm. “She already has the details of your case, but I think it would be best if we hear it from you in your own words.”

His attention returned to Ms. Davis, whose expression had changed to a very pleased one. She liked him. A smile, a few complimentary words, and he was in.

Between the two women in his current company, Ms. Davis wouldn’t be his first choice, but he did like that glow he’d set into her cheeks. He’d rather see that glow on Amanda’s face when she looked at him, but knew that was going to happen exactly…never.

Ms. Davis turned to the old, stone-faced house with ivy crawling up the front. To Jacob it looked creepy, but he supposed some might find a certain charm in it.

“My house is infested with evil spirits,” she stated. “And I want them gone.”

“Evil spirits?” Jacob repeated.

Amanda shuffled through her papers. “It says here that last night you heard noises and had the sensation of being pushed out of certain rooms. I’m not sure that counts as a supernatural infestation.”

Ms. Davis’s eyes narrowed. “Are you doubting what I said is true?”

“Of course not, I’m just saying—”

Jacob held up his hand. “We’ll check it out. Don’t worry, Ms. Davis…may I call you Sheila?”

Her sour expression turned into a smile. “You may.”

“Please tell me more about the evil spirits, Sheila.”

She ran a hand through her red curls as if grooming herself for inspection. “My uncle left me this house but I want to get rid of it. One can’t very well have an open house for potential buyers if there are evil forces at work. Haunted houses are curious tourist attractions, but ghosts are not exactly something that raises one’s property value.”

“I totally and completely agree.” Jacob glanced at Amanda who rolled her eyes. “We will handle this, I personally promise you that.”

She beamed at him. “I’ll be staying at the Marriott. I expect a full report first thing in the morning.”

“And you’ll have it.”

“Very good.” Sheila eyed Amanda. “You’re very lucky to have a boss like Jacob taking the lead. I can tell he knows what to do.”

Her blue eyes widened. “But he’s not my—”

Jacob interrupted. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sheila. And you can expect my call bright and early. Sleep well, now.”

He opened her car door for her and Sheila got inside.

“Be careful in there,” she told him.

“I’ll do my best.”

Jacob eased the door shut and after another moment, Sheila drove off down the driveway leaving the two of them alone.

“She thought you were my boss,” Amanda said.

“It must be my air of authority.”

“I don’t think it was necessary to flirt with her.”

“You don’t think so?” He raised an eyebrow. “What can I say? It comes so naturally. There are very few women who can resist me.”

Amanda looked as if she wanted to smile at that, but restrained herself. “Right. Well, let’s get this over with.”

Without another word, she turned away and marched up to the front door of Sheila Davis’s allegedly haunted house.



THE HOUSE was definitely haunted. No doubt about it. Amanda felt the presence as soon as she stepped inside.

“Grab the lights,” she told Jacob. He complied and flicked on the nearest overhead light and the front foyer was bathed in a warm, golden glow.

The house was gorgeous. It reminded Amanda of her grandfather’s house—the man she’d never got to see again after her father abandoned them. She used to play in that house as a kid and, in fact, it was where she’d encountered her first ghost.

She stroked her hand along the smooth wall. There was definitely a spirit here. Amanda frowned. No. She could sense more than one spirit haunting this house. But she wasn’t able to tell yet if they were going to be a problem or not.

“You okay?” Jacob asked.

She was surprised by the concern that edged his words. It made her realize that she’d closed her eyes and pressed both her hands flat up against the wall. A thin sheen of perspiration glazed her forehead from concentrating.

Yeah, that must have looked really normal.

Amanda the Strange rides again.

She self-consciously wiped a hand across her brow. “I’m fine.”

“What were you doing?”

Since they hadn’t worked together before, Jacob hadn’t witnessed the weird trance she tended to go into when she tapped fully into her abilities. It was one of the many reasons she preferred office work. She hated how using her “powers” made her lose control of herself, even if only a little.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Just…you know. I was sensing if there was any ghostly activity.”

“And?”

She eyed him. “You’re psychic, too.”

“Yeah, but empaths are different. I get my glimpses through touching somebody alive, like little Miss Attitude outside. I don’t normally get sent on these kinds of assignments. Obviously Patrick was really stuck tonight. You’re the only ghost whisperer here.”

“I do sense something.”

“Yeah?” His eyebrows went up. “So fast? What is it?”

“There are a couple of ghosts here.”

He glanced around the immediate surroundings. “Can you see them?”

“No. Not yet. But they’re here.” She drew in a sharp breath. “A male and a female. They were—” she paused, sinking deeper into her strange ability so she could get a better sense of the place “—involved in some way romantically. Not husband and wife, but lovers, I think.”

“You can tell that just from touching the wall?”

She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat. “Well, it’s just the vibe I’m getting. Maybe I’m wrong.”

After a moment when he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him cautiously. “What?”

He shook his head. “It’s just kind of amazing to me. I’ve been on assignment with lots of other agents, but you’re different from them, aren’t you?”

She crossed her arms. “You can save the judgment for another time.”

“Judgment?”

“I feel self-conscious enough about what I have to do without you making me feel bad about it.”

He blinked. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Are you actually trying to pick a fight with me about this? We just got here.”

“And we’re almost done.”

When people studied what she could do too closely it made her feel like a sideshow freak. Echoes of “Amanda the Strange” went through her head and she cringed.

“Let’s check out the rest of the house quickly.” She moved away down the hall but his strong, warm hand encircled her upper arm to stop her.

“Wait a second, Amanda.”

She slowly turned to look at Jacob who now had an odd look on his face.

“What?”

“You have a problem.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. That’s why I want to go to New York. I want to be normal.”

He just looked at her incredulously. “You seriously think that, don’t you? That you’re not normal.”

She shrugged his hand away. “It’s not normal to connect with the supernatural world. It’s creepy and wrong.”

He had a deep frown on his face now. “Who told you something like that?”

“Everybody.”

“Everybody? I find that very hard to believe.”

“My mother never approved of what I could do. In fact, she hated it. She made sure I knew on a daily basis it was abnormal and unnatural and freakish. And at school…” She trailed off. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? I know it’s strange and just because I can do it doesn’t mean I like it.”

He laughed then. At her. She felt heat come to her cheeks.

“Fine, laugh,” she said tightly. “I’m used to that.”

“You’re completely crazy, you know that?”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I think I’d have to disagree with that.”

She let out a sigh of frustration. “You don’t know me.”

“I think I do. And I’ll tell you why I think I know you. Because you think that after that little psychic display I think you’re a freak. I can’t believe your mother would say that to you.” He seemed actually angry about it.

“Forget it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You’re all ruffled now. Lost that cool composure from before, huh? Do I really have the ability to make you lose control of yourself?”

“I really think I hate you.”

He snorted. “Now it’s hate. Awesome. Before, I knew it was indifference, maybe a little bit of disgust, but hate is so much more interesting.”

“Why are you baiting me like this?”

“Because I don’t think anybody ever does bait you like this. Nobody challenges you, Amanda. Nobody pushes your buttons.”

“Maybe I don’t want my buttons pushed.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Maybe your buttons have never been pushed by the right person.”

Her cheeks grew warmer. “Let’s leave my buttons out of this.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” His gaze slid down her front and she self-consciously crossed her arms as a feeble form of protection from his intense scrutiny. “What you can do is amazing. You’re amazing, whether you realize it or not.”

“Amazing,” she said the word with an ironic twist. “So amazing that my father was freaked out by me and abandoned my family when I was a kid and my mom was stuck raising me.”

His eyes narrowed. “He did that?”

“A ghost pushed him down the stairs. He kind of blamed me for that.”

“He blamed you?” Another flash of anger entered his gaze.

“Of course he did. It was my fault the ghost was there in the first place.”

She turned away from him wishing the heat would leave her face. But there was something about Jacob that definitely did push those hidden buttons of hers. Why did she let him get to her? What was it about this admittedly gorgeous jerk that totally flustered her?

“You want him to make love to you so badly you can barely remain standing, don’t you?”

She frowned at the thought, not to mention the mental images it invoked.

Then her eyes went very wide. She hadn’t just thought that. She’d heard it. Somebody had spoken those words to her.

She looked at Jacob, who was frowning at her sudden change in expression.

“What is it?” The concern returned to his green eyes as if he sensed something had changed.

Something had.

“Um…” she began. “I was right. This house is definitely haunted.”

“What? You can see the ghost?”

She nodded.

“Where is it?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “Standing right next to you.”




4


LEANING AGAINST the wall was a beautiful ghost with long blond hair, wearing a long white gown. Amanda could tell it was a ghost because she could see right through to the wall behind her.

“You heard me?” the ghost asked.

Amanda studied the woman for a moment. “I heard you.”

The ghost glanced at Jacob. “He’s very handsome. I can see why you’re attracted to him.”

“What’s happening?” Jacob asked, scanning the area around him. “I can’t see anything.”

The ghost walked slowly around Jacob, checking him out from head to toe and pausing at all the key places—his broad shoulders, muscled arms and chest, firm ass and the hard-to-ignore bulge at the front of his jeans.

Amanda’s mouth wasn’t dry anymore.

“Uh…Amanda…” Jacob snapped her out of her sudden daze. “Why are you looking at me like that? Where’s the ghost now?”

Get a grip, she told herself sternly. This was not the time or place to flake out.

You want him to make love to you so badly you can barely remain standing.

Was that what the ghost had said?

So not true. She wasn’t obsessed with sex. She didn’t fixate on the physical—no matter how perfect a subject Jacob might be.

Stupid ghost.

“What’s your name?” Amanda asked.

The beautiful woman tore her appraising gaze away from Jacob’s body and looked at her. “My name is Catherine. This is my house. Or at least it used to be. Why are you here?”

Amanda rubbed her dry lips together. “We’re here to ask you to leave this house, and we hope you’ll be open to that suggestion. Do you know what keeps you bound here?”

“This is the only place we can be together,” Catherine replied, and there was sadness in her expression now.

“Are you open to leaving?”

“No. This is where we belong. Where we must stay. There is no other choice for us.”

Amanda scanned the area. Jacob had taken a step back, watching curiously as she spoke to the ghost he couldn’t see. “Where is the other ghost?”

“Right here.” A man walked directly out of the wall next to where Amanda stood. He was tall and handsome, with dark-blond hair and blue eyes. His gaze, though, was anything but friendly. The glare he directed at Amanda made chills run down her arms. “You need to leave us in peace.”

Catherine looked at the man and there was no doubting the affection in her eyes. “Nathan, please. I can handle this.”

He stiffened then turned to face her. “I only get to see you for an hour a day. I don’t want our time interrupted by these intruders.”

Her brows drew together. “I know. But it’s dangerous.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s always been dangerous for us.”

Then he reached out toward Catherine and she did the same. When their hands came within two feet of each other a flash of light appeared and the ghosts disappeared. At the same time, what felt like a bolt of electricity ripped through Amanda and she gasped out loud. Her knees buckled. She was sure she’d fall to the floor, but Jacob was there to catch her, keeping her on her feet.

“They’re cursed,” she managed after a moment. Her eyelids fluttered and she realized she may have blacked out for a moment. “The ghosts—they were involved romantically when they were alive, but couldn’t be together. They died at the same time, I think. Now they’re bound in this house together, but they can only see each other for short periods and they can’t touch.”

“Did they tell you this?” Jacob asked, his forehead creased deeply.

She shook her head. “I had a vision just now. It was blurry and disjointed but it was sort of like I was actually there, seeing with my own eyes what happened.” She inhaled sharply. “How horrible to be like that. To be able to be with the one you love but never touch each other.”

“Cursed spirits,” Jacob said. “Sounds like an exorcism is definitely required here.”

His arms were still around her and the hard line of his body pressing against hers was enough to pull her back to reality—mostly because it felt too good. “I’m okay now. You can let go of me.”

He released her immediately. “Sorry.”

She fumbled through her bag and pulled out a notebook in which she scribbled down as much as she could remember of her sudden vision of the two ghosts. She didn’t normally see with such clarity. Sure, she could see the ghost itself, talk to it, and try to come to some sort of an understanding. Sometimes the ghost could be convinced to leave the mortal world through a simple conversation. Exorcism was a worst-case scenario.

But visions were new. One more ability to add to her unwelcome repertoire. Great.

Maybe Nathan had murdered Catherine and then killed himself. Was that why they were being punished? She wasn’t sure. She’d only seen glimpses. Some kind of magic had been involved here.

It didn’t matter. The bottom line was they’d confirmed ghostly activity in the house and the owner wanted that taken care of.

The ghosts hadn’t been violent, which was good. But that sense of despair and desperation to touch each other—

A chill went through her.

“I know I haven’t been much help so far,” Jacob said. “Sorry about that.”

She looked up to see his forehead was furrowed. “Forget it. You can’t see what I see.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Says you.” He sighed. “To be able to do what you do? That’s a gift.”

“Curse.”

“Gift.”

She forced a tight smile on her face. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”

He didn’t try to argue any more about that, which was a nice change. She couldn’t help but smile inwardly at his reaction. Most of the other PARA agents Amanda had been teamed up with over the years had a very matter-of-fact way of dealing with the unusual stuff. Like it was normal for them. Average. Almost boring.

Jacob looked at it as though it was amazing. Then again he’d only discovered his psychic abilities a couple of years ago. He hadn’t had to deal with them for decades.

Curse. Definitely.

They moved through the living room and Amanda pulled at a corner of the plastic covering the sofa.

“I think this sofa is original,” she said. “Well over a hundred years old.”

“Antiques Roadshow would have a field day in here.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the dark material underneath. More images came to her mind and she gasped.

“Hey,” Jacob said. “Are you getting something?”

She nodded. “Definitely something.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t…I don’t know yet…” She tried to see past the fog, worried she was going in too deep and beginning to pull away, but the vision was suddenly there in front of her again, this time as clear as day.

Catherine was leading Nathan into the room. He was reluctant to follow but helpless to her charms. He found her so beautiful; too beautiful to resist, even though she was the wife of his employer. Ever since the other night at midnight when they’d first made love, he had been unable to think of anyone else.

“This isn’t right,” he murmured in a feeble attempt to stop her.

“Shh,” she silenced him with another kiss.

“Your husband—”

“Please, Nathan…I want you so much…”

Her hands found the buttons on his pants and she undid them one by one until she freed his erection. As she slid her tongue along his length he was completely helpless to her.

He loved her with all his heart and soul. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but wanted to be with her like this always. Every time they made love was better than the last. The feel of her body clenching him as he drove into her, his hands on her breasts, his mouth swirling over the peaks of her nipples as he thrust himself into her slick heat—

“Amanda—” she heard Jacob say from a million miles away, but she couldn’t drag herself out of the vision, her body on fire as she sank into the deep, warm pool of passion from memories that didn’t belong to her. The vision was of bodies moving together, gasps and soft moans, as Catherine and Nathan made love.

A clock chimed. Twelve times. It was midnight.

It was significant, that clock. Amanda tried to focus on it—a large black grandfather clock with an ivory face that stood against the wall.

Catherine let out a soft cry, arching her back, her breasts flattening against Nathan’s hard-muscled chest as he brought her to orgasm.

And then a blur. A flash. And they were apart. It was later, but Amanda couldn’t tell how much later. The clock was now obscured by the shape of a man. A murderously jealous husband. Words were spoken, threats and curses thrown out.

“You’ll never touch her again.”

There was the sharp crack of several gunshots. Catherine’s scream of pain and terror. A fight. Nathan’s furious, grief-filled gaze stilled by another shot.

The glass on the front of the clock was shattered by a stray bullet.

Two nude bodies were found by the police. Lovers. A suicide pact, the police decided. The husband claimed ignorance and dark grief that his slut of a wife would take up with a common servant. A nobody.

Catherine and Nathan were bound to the house where they were murdered, but unable to see each other except for one hour a day, from eleven o’clock to midnight. When the chimes of the clock grew silent, they’d disappear from each other’s view, never able to touch each other.

But why? Why were they still trapped there?

Amanda let out a shaky sob as she finally came out of the vision and realized she was crying. She also realized that somebody held her tightly in his arms while seated on the floor—it was Jacob.

“Amanda, can you hear me?” He wiped away her tears with his thumbs as he held her face gently between his hands. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I…I just got a little carried away there.”

“I see that.”

He stroked the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back from her face. His touch was electric and she took a sharp inhalation of breath. Her body still felt the aftereffects of the lust-filled vision, her skin more sensitive than normal. Hot to the touch. She braced her hands against his firm chest to try to push him away but didn’t. He felt so good pressed against her.

Much too good.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Quarter to twelve.”

When the clock struck midnight Catherine and Nathan couldn’t see each other until the next day. For eternity. Maybe it would be an act of kindness to have them exorcised. She couldn’t imagine, after seeing the sadness in their eyes, that this existence was a happy one for them.

Dammit. She hated her job sometimes.

No, not sometimes. Despite her friends and the generous paycheck, she always hated her job. In her new life with David, she wouldn’t have to deal with cursed ghost lovers and chiming clocks that kept them apart.

Chiming clocks.

The clock had taken up a good part of her vision. That had to have some significance. Could it be possible that it had something to do with the curse? It seemed to revolve around time, after all.

Still seated on the floor with Jacob, Amanda glanced off to the side to see Catherine standing watching her. Nathan was nowhere to be seen.

“Please, you must go,” Catherine said. “We mean no harm. Leave us in peace.”

“Where’s the clock?” Amanda asked.

“The clock?”

“The big black grandfather clock.” Amanda looked around the room. “It was once there, in that corner, but now it’s gone. Where is it?”

Catherine shook her head. “You shouldn’t bother with that. It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?”

“The clock is enchanted. It was given to me by my aunt, a self-proclaimed witch, as a wedding gift. She never approved of my marriage, said that a marriage where there was no love was doomed.” She set her chin. “I guess she was right about that. The clock works its magic at midnight and is the reason Nathan and I are in this situation in the first place. Why we’re bound to this house and to each other forever.”

Amanda shook her head. “But we deal with enchanted objects, especially dangerous ones. I need to assess it. Maybe we can help you.”

Her attention moved to the other side of the room where Nathan had reappeared.

“The clock is upstairs,” he said. “You should definitely go see it.”

“Nathan,” Catherine said sharply.

He cocked his head to the side. “I’m only trying to help them.”

“Why do you have to interfere? This is none of our business.”

Nathan’s gaze was intense. “If it weren’t for the clock, we wouldn’t be together.”

Amanda could sense Jacob staring as her head turned from side to side as if she was watching a tennis match. She felt as though she was. One that didn’t make any sense to her.

“I have to say it’s a bit unnerving not knowing what’s going on right in front of my own eyes,” he said.

“Help me up,” she whispered.

Jacob got up and offered her his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet.

“The ghosts?” he asked.

She scanned the room. They’d disappeared the moment she turned away from them.

She ran through the information she’d received. Catherine’s aunt had given her the clock as a wedding gift and Catherine believed it to be enchanted in some way—the reason her and Nathan’s spirits were trapped in the house.

It was almost midnight. If she could witness what happened when the clock struck midnight, maybe that would help in the assessment. If she could do something, anything to break the curse for the ghosts…

Why was she allowing herself to become so involved with this? She didn’t even like love stories, let alone tragic ones that ended in murder.

“The ghosts are gone,” she said. “For now. We need to find the clock.”

“What clock?”

What was she supposed to say to that that didn’t make her sound completely insane? Then again, what did she care what Jacob thought of her? “It’s a clock that was here when the ghosts were cursed. It might even be the cause of the curse. We need to find it, assess it, and then we’re getting out of here.”

“The last part’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all evening.”

“Do you have a camera?”

“Yeah, right here.” He patted his pocket.

There was a stairway at the end of the hall. The lights were dim and not all of them worked but it was enough to see their way. Amanda wasn’t afraid. Some might be in a haunted house, but she’d already met the ghosts. Not the friendliest sort, but nothing overtly evil there.

She’d felt their love. She’d seen it in the vision. It hadn’t been only an affair, it had been deeper, truer. Not everyone found that sort of love in their life. But if it made one make dangerous and questionable decisions that led to getting shot, then she’d prefer to keep to the much more orderly emotions, thanks.

There was no chance that her relationship with David would end up with her pining away for his spirit. Not that she didn’t care for him; there was some strong affection there, but love?

Amanda’s life was unpredictable enough dealing with her psychic abilities without adding love to the equation.



“WHY DO we care about this clock, again?” Jacob asked as they ascended the staircase to the second floor of the dimly lit, musty-smelling house.

Amanda didn’t answer right away, which worried him a little. Was she in another trance? Was she communicating with the ghosts? He’d never worked with her before, but he’d worked with other mediums enough to know that dead people weren’t always friendly and cooperative. No, sometimes they were vicious and violent and intent on possession. A soft, sweet-smelling, warm human body like Amanda’s would be their first choice to thrust themselves into.




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