Enchantment (33 page)

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Authors: Nikki Jefford

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Gray’s lips curled back at the mental image
that conjured. One Perez pancake coming right down!

“I don’t remember anything.”

Charlene rolled her eyes. “Well, it did knock
you out for over eight hours.”

“What time is it?”

“Thirteen o’clock or—as you Americans call
it—one.”

Gray glared at Charlene. “What about Raj?
Where is he?”

Charlene got up and grinned. “Waiting in the
wings for you to come around. He wanted to let you wake up
naturally, but I thought it was high time you got your ass out of
bed.” Charlene winked. “I’ll send him in.”

Gray took quick stock of what she was
wearing—a silk nighty, probably left behind by one of “Charles’s”
conquests. Gray sat up against the headboard and pulled the covers
up to her waist just as Raj walked in. She felt a bit woozy.

Raj stopped at the foot of the bed. He was
still gorgeous in every way with his dark skin, tightly toned body,
and arresting green eyes. But none of that affected her now. For
the first time since reawakening in Charlene’s body, Gray felt
free.

“How are you feeling, Gray?”

“A little sore . . . and dizzy,” Gray
admitted.

Raj frowned. “That was quite a fall.”

“Once more I defied death. What is this? The
third time? I’ve lost count.”

Raj didn’t smile. “You need to stop getting
yourself into these situations, Gray.”

Gray gripped the blanket in her fists. “There
wouldn’t have been a situation if you and Lee hadn’t sicced
Holloway on Adrian. What happened to our demonic coven leader,
anyway?”

A look Gray couldn’t quite read flashed
across Raj’s face. Was it guilt?

Raj ran a hand through his hair and looked
sideways. “We took his powers . . . his, Marc’s, and Ryan’s.
They’ve all proven to be a danger not only to the magical
community, but to themselves.”

Gray dropped the blanket. “How did you manage
that?”

“Brute force. Adrian went ballistic after you
fell from his terrace. We mixed a little bit of blood from each of
them into the vials.”

Gray snorted. “Three in one. Handy. Who all’s
taking responsibility for the pendants?” Gray assumed Raj would be
one of the three warlocks to carry that burden around his neck. If
he wanted sympathy from her he’d have to think again. He should
have never sent Holloway to Paris to begin with.

Raj’s hand slipped over his pocket. “I’m
taking them back to Kent. Mr. Curry, Max, and Shay will decide
what’s to be done.”

“Oh, great,” Gray said, unable to mask her
annoyance. “Do you involve Shay Baxter in all your decision
making?”

It was a good thing Lee was with Raj and not
Gray. How could she put up with Raj running to Shay Baxter any time
a problem came up?

Raj straightened. “Lee likes to keep out of
these things as much as possible. We’re starting college soon. We
have our whole lives ahead of us—a new start.” Raj raised a brow as
if to say, you should consider the same.

Gray sighed. “All I wanted when I left home
was a fresh start.”

Raj nodded. “I know. And we shouldn’t have
butted in, but we wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Gray supposed that was better than the
alternative—her mom, Lee, and Raj not giving a damn.

Raj cleared his throat. “I’m heading back
home in a couple hours. I can get you a ticket on my flight, if you
like.”

“I’m not going back.”

Raj nodded slowly. “You really need to tell
your mom and Lee about Adrian.”

Gray grimaced. “Can you tell them? It’s
probably better if they hear it from someone in person.”

“Gray, you know I’d do just about anything
for you, but this isn’t one of those things.”

Gray smiled despite herself. “Fair
enough.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gray didn’t leave Charlene’s fancy flat until after
Raj’s taxi departed for the airport.

Charlene tried to raise a stink, but was
placated the moment Gray promised to meet her for a shopping spree
the following afternoon.

“At least let me help you dress before you
run back to Adrian.”

Rather than respond to this, Gray quirked a
brow. “You keep women’s clothes around this place?”

“A few things,” Charlene said, leading her
into the guest room. “Comes in handy the next morning after I’ve
ripped a woman’s clothes off.”

Gray lifted her arms into the air and cried
out, “Too much information!”

“Hey, I’m a Frenchman now. Get used to
it.”

Gray cringed. “Never!”

So now here she was, dressed in a
miniskirt—it was either that or a cocktail dress—making her way
down the boulevard. At least Adrian and Charlene lived close. Two
eccentric warlocks with expensive tastes.

Gray stared at the pavement as she walked. If
it hadn’t been for Adrian’s protection spell she would have
splattered apart the moment she hit the unforgiving concrete.

Adrian had saved her again.

Well, she’d saved him, too. As far as she was
concerned, they were even. From there, who knew what would
happen.

 

It took Adrian a moment to answer the door.
After what had happened earlier, Gray was surprised he didn’t open
it with a bat in his hands.

Adrian filled the doorway the same way he had
in Barcelona. Gray wondered if she’d have to invite herself in
again.

“Gray.” He said her name while releasing a
breath. Adrian looked her up and down, his face wrinkling as he
searched for damage. “How are you?”

“Fine, thanks to you.”

Despite the morning’s mayhem, Adrian had
changed. His hair was still damp. The buttons on his shirt were
only half down, giving Gray a view of his upper chest. An
intoxicating smell touched Gray’s nostrils. Aftershave. Gray
inhaled silently.

A crease appeared in Adrian’s forehead.
“You’re not in pain?”

“I didn’t feel a thing.”

If only that had been the case for Adrian the
boy, but Gray knew better.

“May I come in?”

“Of course you can.”

Gone were the teasing tones they’d used in
Barcelona.

Gray walked slowly into the living room. All
the furniture with the exception of the couch was overturned.
Anything that had been on a tabletop or shelf had shattered to the
floor. It looked like a hurricane had swept through.

“Weren’t you leaving for Belgium this
afternoon?”

“I’m not going.”

Without turning, Gray said, “I suppose you
had to postpone after everything that happened this morning.”

She could feel her heart pounding in the
silence that ensued. Finally Adrian responded, “I canceled the trip
before any of this happened.”

Gray sucked in a breath and turned around.
“Adrian, I’m so sorry.” She sucked in a second breath when she
noticed the way he looked at her.

“I don’t care about the furniture or the
lamps or the figurines or anything else. The only thing I care
about . . .”

“Nevertheless I should help you clean up,”
Gray said quickly. She turned away, heart hammering inside her
chest.

She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be
to let her guard down. No more spells. No more chaos. No more
excuses. Just the truth.

Adrian sighed. “What are you doing here,
Gray?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? I left my
things.”

“Is that all?”

Gray took a tentative step toward Adrian. “Of
course not, you idiot! Maybe I didn’t make myself clear earlier. I
love you. I love
you
, Adrian Montez.” She figured he’d need
to hear it twice.

Damn Adrian and his unreadable expression.
Saying those words, and to The Avenger no less, was the scariest
thing Gray had ever done . . . and she’d done plenty of frightening
things over the past two years.

Finally a smile spread over his lips. “And I
love you, Gray, always have.”

Gray squared her shoulders, trying to hide
how much those words affected her. “Good,” she said. “Now let’s get
crêpes. I’m starving.”

Adrian chuckled. He moved toward Gray, not
stopping until their bodies touched. Even without the spell it felt
right.

Gray fought back a shiver and raised her eyes
to meet his. Adrian lifted her chin gently. “I’d rather stay
in.”

He rubbed his lips against hers without
kissing them. It caused an instant hunger inside Gray that had
nothing to do with food. Gray leaned forward, not caring about
Adrian’s chuckle because soon enough the only sounds he made were
the French kissing kind.

No, Gray decided. She wouldn’t trade in
Adrian’s kisses for all the crêpes in France.

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

The curtain muffled the clatter and conversations
taking place inside The Magic Club. Pierre left Adrian and Gray
alone backstage to announce Act One to the club’s patrons. The
performance would be broken up into five parts—one for each course
of the dinner show, complete with wine pairings.

Revising the performance to include an
assistant had been easier and far more enjoyable than Adrian
imagined. Turning his single act into a duo had been Gray’s idea,
much to Adrian’s surprise. After the whole box and saw trick he
would have thought Gray wouldn’t want to step within fifty feet of
any stage bearing his weight.

Maybe this was her way of keeping him in
Paris.

Turned out Nan wasn’t the only one dead set
against London. When Adrian presented the idea, the two women
ganged up on him. Nan didn’t want to leave her new friend, Sarah,
and Gray’s exact words had been, “I’m not trading in my coffee and
croissants for tea and crumpets.”

That’s one thing the ladies in his life had
in common. They both thought with their stomachs—a passion seconded
only by their love of magic.

Gray’s favorite French phrase had become

Je suis faim
.”


J’ai faim,”
Adrian corrected her
every time.

“The girl always hungry,” Nan would mutter,
but Adrian didn’t miss her hidden smile or the way she hurried to
the kitchen to fix something for Gray.

Gray had been a natural during rehearsal, but
Adrian had yet to see how she performed live.

Beside him, Gray pulled at her black
thigh-high stockings, adjusting the bows just above her knees.
Adrian had half a mind to peel them off her legs.

He forced his attention back to the curtain,
keeping his ear out for their cue from Pierre. He needed to stay
focused. Maybe he could listen to what Pierre told the audience if
Gray stopped fidgeting with her costume.

Adrian smirked. “I told you we should have
ordered the body suit. Less bells and whistles to get in the
way.”

“The Playboy bunny costume?” Gray snorted.
“You wish.”

“Hey, the Parisians would’ve loved it.”

Gray stopped fiddling with her stockings long
enough to plant a hand on either hip. “They’re here to see magic,
not my thighs.”

“Who says they don’t want both?” Adrian’s
voice softened. “Are you nervous?”

“Well, I feel a heck of a lot better getting
rid of the whole sawing me in half act. If you ask me, that trick
is way overdone.”

“That one’s a classic.” Adrian said.

“Once was enough for me,” Gray grumbled.

“You’re never going to let me forget that
one, are you?”

“Nope.” Gray narrowed her eyes. “And no
memory spells!”

Adrian hadn’t forgotten their rule. No
performing magic on the other person—at least not without their
permission.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Adrian said,
holding his hands in the air.

Just as Gray was about to make a retort,
Adrian lifted his hand and looked toward the curtain. “Are you
ready? Pierre is about to announce us.”

Gray gave her tights one last tug.

Adrian winked at her. “You’ll be
magnificent.” He took Gray’s hand and together they stepped closer
to the curtain. Adrian gave her hand a final squeeze before taking
his position across from her.

Gray nodded that she was ready.

A set of free-standing doors in wood frames
were angled at their backs. Gray would appear and disappear from
each of them, moving in and out at as though by magic. Well, that
part was true. Gray had to cheat, unlike Adrian, who’d been
practicing the art of illusion all his life.

Once Gray dazzled the crowd with her
disappearing act, they’d throw in the Frisbees to astound them even
more. This had taken the most practice. Gray had to open the
appropriate door in time to catch the flying disc before she
reappeared.

Better than live birds.

In addition to the old box and saw routine,
he’d done away with the damn pigeons.

“Ready?” Adrian mouthed.

Gray gave him a quick nod.

“Then let’s show them what you’ve got.”

Gray shot Adrian a cheeky smile. “I’ve got
you.”

“And now, ladies and gentleman,” Pierre said
from the other side of the curtain. “I present Adrian Montez and
his beautiful assistant, Graylee Perez!”

 

 

About the Author

 

 

Nikki Jefford is a third generation Alaskan who
loves fictional bad boys and heroines who kick butt. She has a B.A.
in journalism from the University of Alaska Anchorage and was an
entertainment reporter before returning to her first love:
fiction.

Nikki married Sebastien, the love of her
life, while working as a teaching assistant in Amiens, France
during the 1999-2000 school year. They now reside with their Westie
Cosmo in the not-so-tropical San Juan Islands, 70 miles northeast
of Forks, Washington, in a town without a single traffic light.

 

Find her at:

http://nikkijefford.com

http://twitter.com/NikkiJefford

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5424286.Nikki_Jefford

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