Gone With the Witch (2 page)

Aiden swore beneath his breath, but Storm pretended
not to hear.

"Now, a posed picture of the triplets," the photographer said, catching them off guard. "Please?" he begged when they hesitated, as they always did, about posing as a three-pack.

"It's not as if we're dressed alike," Harmony said, which
meant she wanted the picture as a memento of her wedding
day.

The photographer beamed with satisfaction.
"Bride in
gold in the middle, bridesmaid in blue on one side, maid of
honor in pink on the other.
Triplet bombshells," he said,
giddy behind his camera. He climbed the top riser to take a
shot looking down toward the opulent castle great hall,
men in black tie and women in vintage gowns sipping cocktails below.

The photographer then rearranged them and seated
them on the risers with their bouquets on assorted antique
tables behind them. "This time, blue hair in the middle:' he
said, overlapping their skirts to hide the risers
an
d
posing them with their heads together.

"I always liked the three musketeers shot," Storm
quipped.

The photographer stood back, cleared his throat, and
took the picture. "I could have won an award for that picture, young lady, if your hair was blonde like it should
be."

An unexpected hand fell on Storm's shoulder as she
shot to her feet and kept her from going for the guy's jugular. "Buddy:' Aiden told the jerk, "
if
I hadn't stopped her, you'd be singing soprano right now. Storm is unique.
Gor
geous.
Dazzling.
We like her the way she is. Apologize, or
deal with me"

"
Aye, and me, too, you bletherin' fool," Rory, her Scot
brother-in-law, said, bringing the rest of the wedding party
to her defense.

After the photographer apologized, Aiden took her hand
and led her from the balcony. "You're a nut, you know
that? What were you gonna do, coldcock him?"

Storm huffed. "Why are you yelling at
me?"

"Because I can't hit
him."

"I was thinking along the lines of castration. Got a prob
lem with that?"

"Yeah, it makes me wanna puke" Aiden slid his hand to
her nape and brought her brow to his. "You smell like
.. .
berries
... or wildflowers." He inhaled, sighed, and stepped
quickly back. "I must be allergic."

"Your allergy reeks of commitment phobia."

"My aftershave is called
Independence. If anything
reeks, it's that. 'I wear it as an expression of strength and fortitude, and I wear it proudly, make no mistake"

Storm nuzzled his cheek
an
d
down to his neck to wallow
in the scent. "I like it." Okay, so she'd caught his attention, too.
She
wouldn't let a little thing like
a declaration of independence stop
her. "My perfume is billed as passionate, im
pulsive, and electric," she said. "It's black currant and lily of the valley, a floral-fruity scent"

"Like you," he said, still up close and personal.
She raised her head. "You think I'm electric?”

“No, I think you're a fruit."

Before Storm could react, Destiny hooked an arm
through Aiden's and whisked him down the stairs. Storm took Morgan's arm
an
d
followed.

Each couple entered the great hall to formal introduc
tions and applause and went to the wedding supper table to
stand before their place cards.

After King and Harmony sat down, the wedding party
did, too, and Storm leaned forward to see the far end of the
table, on the opposite side of the bride and groom, where Aiden sat with Destiny.

"Spell me! How am 'I supposed to seduce him from here?”

“
He's not going anywhere," Morgan said.

"Did 'I say that out loud?"

"Afraid so."

"Keep my secret?"

"It's no secret, Blue Hai
r.
"

Storm wilted. "Am 'I that obvious?"

Morgan covered his mouth with a knuckle for a minute,
as if he were trying not to smile. "Obvious?" he asked. "You've got `I'm hot for Aiden' tattooed on your forehead. Be warned. The more you chase, the faster he'll go."

Morgan had a great smile. Who knew?
And a sense of humor, too.
Storm relaxed. "It's not what you think."

"Right.
It's his crying baby you're after," Morgan
added. "Here's a clue: The thought of that kid doesn't scare
Aiden half as much as you do"

"Don't judge me, Morgan. I'm not the only one around here with a tattoo. Yours says, `I need to get laid by Destiny.' "

"See, that's where you're wrong. I don't need to get laid at all." Morgan's eyes twinkled for a minute before he erupted in a full-bodied laugh, open and guileless. "How about we get to know each other better over supper?" he suggested.

"Sure. What do you wanna talk about?"

"You tell me Destiny's secrets, and I'll tell you
Aiden's?"

"Deal."

Wild stories about Aiden and Destiny kept them entertained through dinner.

"Do you realize," Morgan asked, "that every time we laugh, Aiden leans forward to frown at us?"

"Perfect:' Storm said, surprised that the time for the ritual cake cutting came so fast. Soon, she was biting into a decadent piece of red velvet wedding cake with icing seashells that matched their gowns.

"The wedding party dance," Morgan said. "Shall we?"

Storm got up, but duh, Aiden was taking Destiny in his arms. "Well this bites," she said, stepping into Morgan's arms.

"I like dancing with you, too"

"I didn't mean—"

"Sure you did, but give me a minute, until the guests
start joining in, and we'll switch partners. I'll take full responsibility."

"You're an okay guy, you know that?"

"Tell your sister," Morgan said as they closed in on Destiny and Aiden.

I
will, Storm thought, but Destiny would never believe her.

Morgan tapped Aiden's shoulder, and when Aiden
stepped aside, Storm stepped into his arms. "Surprise," she
said.

chapter
three•

INDEPENDENT his ass! He'd felt nothing
but ..
.
incomplete
... since he'd met the storm witch.
Effin' A.
He'd been impatient to get back to her ever since the ceremony. He loved having her in his arms. He hated that he loved having her in his arms.

He needed a straitjacket.

Aiden tried not to reveal his need by dancing with
Storm as if she were a department store dummy ... until
she went limp and tripped him up.

He caught his balance. "What was that about?"

"Treat me like a blow-up doll, I deflate. Any woman would. Are you trying to avoid me?"

"Of course not."

While King and Harmony were speaking their vows, he'd
had a moment of clarity. The safest bet for Storm would
be for him to stay as far away from her as possible ... for
the rest of the evening ... the rest of their two-week vaca
tion ... then for the rest of their lives ... which Aiden
feared could only happen if
an
earthquake parted the conti
nent, and he
an
d
Storm stood on opposite sides at the time.

He needed to get through this reception, this very long—pun intended—evening, without letting down his
guard and giving in to his raging hormones, so he could do
whatever it took to protect her from his fly-by-night
lifestyle and no-commitment rule.

In addition to protecting her, he believed that his reasonably safe and sane world could use some protecting as
well. Situation in point: "Are you trying to seduce me?" he
asked.

Her thigh stroked his groin. "You couldn't tell?"

Wonderful.
Over the last three weeks, they'd worked
themselves into a sexual frenzy, a high-powered attraction
that threatened to expose his utter stupidity. "Well, cut it out," he said. "We're in public here."

Storm's skeptical chuckle raised his blood pressure—as
if there wasn't enough being raised around here. "Screw you," she said.

"Screw you"

"Please
do."

He wished to hell he could. "We may have reacted to lust at first sight, Storm, but it's time to be practical." He
would not be seduced into lowering his guard ... or his
pants.

"We may have reacted to it, but we never acted on it,"
she pointed out. "We've been practical by doing everything
that could be done ... without consummation. I say it's
time to be impractical ... and take out the big gun."

Big and getting bigger, yet he couldn't walk away, because, one: he'd embarrass the hell out of himself with this boner, and two: being a best man required manners during the bridal waltz.

"Behave yourself," Aiden said as he did the exact opposite and pulled her close, despite his determination to keep
as much of a physical distance as an emotional one. But his
man brain, as Storm called it, knew only too well where it
wanted to go, and without his other brain's consent, he and
Storm melded as if they'd been formed in the opposite
halves of the same mold.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

Aiden closed his eyes and savored. Inhaling the honey-
suckle scent of her hair, he about died happy. Having her in
his arms again made him feel as if he'd ... come home. No, damn it! He hated the thought of home.

He didn't want home. He wanted wheels.
Freedom.
In
dependence
.
The life of a wanderer.
A happy wanderer.
No
commitments ... well, no more than his inheritance sad
dled him with. But love?
Never.

Here he was waltzing with the greatest single threat to his lifestyle since ... the woman who'd dumped him, and later died, while he was focused on screwing up his life—to prove he could.

Storm would be better off without him. Storm the
goth
bridesmaid—hair spikes tame for the occasion—had
nearly seduced him in public before the wedding cere
mony. A red flag if ever he'd succumbed to one.

No wonder he was shaking in his Italian wedding shoes.

Today in particular, Storm seemed focused on seduction,
and wasn't she a huge success, holding him in thrall against
his will.

No easy task, walking away from a sorceress weaving a
sex spell, but she would be better off without him. And
he ... needed to make his own way in the world, his own
choices and decisions ... alone. That's who he was.
A
loner.
A wanderer.
He should tell her that he'd decided to leave tonight, rather than hang around
Salem for the next two weeks, but the minute she trailed one long blue finger
nail with white glitter hearts down his chest, Aiden lost the
power of speech.