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Copyright © Rachel Carrington, 2008
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-e-bound.
Excerpt from: Sensual Spell
Noelle woke next to a cold body, and with the twenty tiny tin soldiers pounding in her head, she figured this wasn’t going to be the greatest Monday she’d ever had, if it was indeed Monday.
Scrambling from the bed, she wrapped the sheet around her toga-style and stared at what she could only assume was a corpse laying atop the fawn-coloured sheets. She didn’t recognise the linens any more than she did the man. His face was almost purple, his lips blue, and the shock of white hair atop his head gave him a ghastly appearance, like one of those circus people Noelle had never particularly cared for.
She edged forward, with her lower lip pulled into her mouth. With one outstretched finger, she poked the man’s chest. He didn’t move. Yep, definitely dead. She’d taken a few classes about anatomy, and the lack of exhalation clued her in. Well, that, his colour, and the coldness of his body.
Shivering, she backed as far away from the bed as possible, her wild-eyed gaze sweeping toward the window. Where was she, and how in the hell had she gotten into this stranger’s bed?
Trying to recall what had happened yesterday, she ticked off the memories on her fingers. “Okay, I met with the aunts for breakfast; almost missed my ancient reversal spells class because I had to help pull Aunt Emmie from the bushes.” One of her most beloved relatives, Emmie, was particularly fond of alcohol, but couldn’t handle it worth a damn. Noelle smiled fondly before shaking herself back to the present.
“Oh, yes, and then I went to the cleansing room because I was starting to develop a headache. Although why I can’t just whisk it away like the aunts do, I’ll never know.” Noelle drew in a deep sigh. “And that’s it. Nothing else. So what in the hell happened between the cleansing room and here?” When nerves kicked in, she talked to herself. Sometimes, she could have full conversations.
“I’m going to go wake him up. He needs to get his ass out of bed,” came a deep, extremely irritated voice. “Breakfast was his idea, and now he decides to sleep in. Look, you go on to the restaurant, and if I can drag Ed’s ass out of bed, we’ll meet you there. If not, I hope he’s got something to eat in this damned house. I’ll call you later, Aunt Rita.”
Noelle barely had time to make sure all her body parts were covered before the bedroom door slammed open against the wall and a male Adonis stormed across the champagne-coloured carpet.
The Greek god came to an abrupt halt, his face going ashen as he stared at the prone man. “Uncle Ed?” He took another step. “Uncle Ed?”
“He’s dead,” Noelle offered in a timid voice. She suddenly found herself under direct scrutiny from a pair of eyes the colour of polished onyx. It didn’t take her long to realise she probably shouldn’t have spoken, or better yet, she should have just whooshed away, but at this point, she wasn’t feeling rather sure of her abilities. Whooshing might not be such a good idea.
“Who the hell are you?” the man questioned in an imperious tone of voice, which set Noelle’s teeth on edge. If the truth were known, Noelle had a problem with authority, and given that this man was in no position of authority over her, she was even more annoyed.
Her shoulders squared, and her chin jutted forward. “My name is Noelle Bridges.”
The god stood there, folding his arms across his massive chest. An impressive chest, if Noelle did say so herself. She particularly liked the way his T-shirt stretched across his muscles while the seams wept in dismay.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me? What in the hell are you doing in my uncle’s bedroom?”
He tapped one foot against the carpet, and Noelle noticed he favoured expensive athletic shoes, the kind she’d have to save for a year to buy. If she really wanted a pair, she could have conjured them, but she wasn’t a typical witch. She liked to earn what she owned, unlike her cousin, who just happened to like the ability to acquire goods with the snap of her fingers.
“Hello?” The deep voice carried more than a hint of impatience now.
Noelle brought herself up to her full five-foot-four-inch height and glared up at his chin. “That’s none of your business.” It was the only response she could come up with on such short notice, especially given that she didn’t know how or what she was doing at the present moment. Odds were good it really was his business, and she doubted he was going to let her just sail out of the room without an explanation.
So she’d better start thinking of a damned good one.
The eyes narrowed, and Noelle sensed that wasn’t a good thing. “My uncle is sixty-eight years old.”
Noelle didn’t think he’d appreciate her correcting his tenses, but the fact remained that poor Uncle Ed had expired and a fluffy white comforter was all that separated her birthday suit from Ed’s nephew’s blazing gaze.
What Uncle Ed’s age had to do with anything, she wasn’t sure, but apparently, the nephew thought it was important. And from the set of his jaw, his displeasure had taken a turn for the worse.
She began to back towards the door, sweeping a nervous glance around at the floor in a desperate bid to find her clothes. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
He moved like a rattler, snagging hold of her arm and yanking her up next to his chest. That close, she could better see the dimple in his chin and the rakish tilt of his eyebrows. God, the man was gorgeous. And angry. She couldn’t forget angry. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what you’re doing here with my uncle and why he’s now dead!”
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