The Zombie Billionaire's Virgin Witch (Zombie Category Romance) (14 page)

Shaken,
he abandoned his plans to drive her insane over and over.  He had one
thought only.  To bury himself in her as quickly as possible.

He
crawled up her body and jerked at the tie binding her to the headboard. 
His breathing rasped in his ears, every moment of delay ramping up his lust
until he was growling and tearing at the blasted silk like a beast.  His
heartbeat thudded so hard in his head he had the passing thought that his skull
might split open when he actually climaxed.

Finally,
she was free, her fingers gripping his hair hard enough to make him his eyes
water, her mouth inhaling his, as desperate and hungry as he.  He knew she
was untouched, that a rough entry would hurt her more than necessary, but he
couldn’t pause his mad rush to get inside her tight heat. 

She
cried out against his mouth, one hand still fisted in his hair while she clawed
at his buttocks, drawing him deeper.   A bubbling inferno roared
inside him, pushed him deeper, harder.  Every inch of his body blazed, his
skin tight and seared as though he stood too closely to a raging bonfire.

 No,
he’d swallowed the bonfire, his flesh disintegrating, dissolving into her.

“Clare.”

He
thought he said her name aloud, but he couldn’t be sure.  Not with the
explosion ripping him apart.

He
came aware in disjointed pieces.  Flat on his back, he blinked up at the
ceiling, trying to remember where he was.  He felt wrung out and weary,
but not hurt.  He hadn’t felt this good in a long time. 

Something
moved, drawing his attention to the woman straddling his thighs.

Her
hair hung about her face, deliciously touseled, her cheeks flushed, her lips
swollen and full from his kisses.  Now he remembered.  He remembered
everything.

He’d
expected their lovemaking to be glorious.  He hadn’t expected her to
destroy his control so easily.  He hadn’t exactly been gentle with his
little virgin.  Frowning, he searched her face.  “Are you all right?”

She
tipped her head to the side and smiled down at him, but it seemed…
resigned.  Sad.   Guilt shredded his heart.  Had he hurt
her?  “How do you feel?”

Dread
rolled over him even worse than the flood of guilt.  The curse.  She
must not have been able to break it after all.  “Fine.  I guess I’ll
get used to the hulking lurch of the zombie eventually.”

“Look
at your hand, Yiorgos.”

He
didn’t understand.  Why would she care about his hand when his body would
rot into dust before her very eyes?  Yet he did as she asked, lifting both
of his hands up before his face.  They were healthy and strong as he
remembered.  For now.  Until the curse…

The
ring was not on his finger.

Stunned,
he flipped his hands back and forth, looking for any sign of decay.  He
ran his hands over his face, neck and chest but didn’t feel the leathery skin
or the tell-tale ridges and pits that had corroded his body.

Joy
burned through him so fiercely he wanted to jump up and whirl her around the
room like a lunatic, but he settled for sitting up and wrapping her in a fierce
hug.  “You did it, Clare.  Thank you!  God, I’ve been so worried
that I’d end up stumbling around like a mindless drooling corpse, rotting away
but unable to die.”

She
was soft and warm and sweet in his arms, but not as excited as he’d
expected.  He pulled back and searched her gaze.

Tears
pooled in her eyes and her lips wobbled in the brave little smile she tried to
give him.  And he knew, then.

She
lost her power.  She paid the ultimate price for me.

“The
ring…”  He began, but she shook her head, dropping her gaze.

In
her hand, she held a dull gold band and broken red bits of glass.  “The
magic we released must have been too great.  It shattered the
signet.  My magic is gone.”

He
closed his eyes and let the guilt wash over him.  He pulled her tight,
wrapping his arms around her, as though he could shield her from the pain and
disappointment.  “I’m so sorry, baby.  I’d do anything to give you
back your power.  I knew we shouldn’t have made love.  The price was
too high.”

She
shook her head against him but kept her face buried against his neck. 
“I’m not sorry.  I loved it.  I love you.  I’m just…lost. 
Without my magic, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

After
everything he’d taken from her, he knew exactly what she was going to do. 
“Don’t worry about a thing, baby.  I’m going to take care of everything.”

“That’s
not what I want.”

“Shhh.” 
He lay back on the bed and tucked her against his side.  Already, his mind
was filled with delightful images.  Clare, dressed in white satin and
lace, his ring on her hand instead of the broken signet.  He would spoil
her with all the shopping and travel she could stand, if he ever allowed her to
leave their marriage bed.  “I’ll buy a whole new chain of restaurants and
name them after you.  You’ll be so busy starting up new kitchens and
hiring staff that you won’t have time to fret for a single moment about losing
your magic.  I’ll make it up to you, Clare, for the rest of our lives.”

“I
don’t want any restaurant but
Remy’s
.  I certainly don’t want you
to buy any more, not for me.”

“Whatever
you want, sweetheart.”  Resolve cemented his arms around her.  This
felt right, more right than anything in his life. 
If it takes the rest
of my life to make up her sacrifice, I’ll do it.  Gladly.
 He
kissed the top of her head.  “How do you feel about a wedding in Greece?”

She
murmured something against his chest, still dripping tears, so he didn’t push
her.  Instead, he lulled her to sleep with tales of his childhood home on
the tiny island of Methos.  “I’ll make you happy, Clare.  I swear
it.”

However,
when he woke up a few hours later, she was gone.  All of the beautiful
clothes he’d bought her were still in the packages or hanging in the hotel
closet.  On the pillow beside him, she’d left a note and her father’s
broken ring.

Yiorgos:

I
love you.  I have no regrets.  But I can never be happy as the pretty
little wife on your arm that you trot out for the next hotel grand
opening.  I need to be more than just your wife.  I have to find my
own way, back to myself, and back to you.

Someday.

Clare.

THIRTEEN

Surrounded
by mountains of dirty pans, blackened loaves of bread, gummy stews, and charred
meats, Clare sat down heavily at the kitchen table and bawled her eyes out.

She
let out all the frustration and hurt and rage pour out of her in loud wracking
sobs that she’d spared Yiorgos.  He’d probably wring his hands and fling
diamonds and silks at her, trying to make her stop crying, when that’s what she
needed most.

She
needed his strong arms around her, his broad chest against her face, his heart
steady and loud against her ear.  And she’d still cry, because it hurt not
to let it out.  She’d barely contained the tears on the long bus-ride
home.

“Oh,
honey.” 

Suddenly
engulfed in the scent of powdered sugar and ruffles, Clare allowed herself to
be rocked back and forth, but she kept her face pressed against Helga’s
shoulder.  She couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on her mentor’s
face.  Her stomach already churned with the bitter acid of failure.

“It
gets better, you know.”

Right
now, she couldn’t even think without that constant gnawing ache of loss
overwhelming her. 

“He’s
a man, dear.  Sometimes we have to help them figure us out.”

Startled,
Clare raised her face.  “I thought you were talking about the magic, not
him.  How’d you know I was back, let alone…”  She couldn’t finish the
sentence but her cheeks burned.  “I let you down.  I’m sorry.”

“Bull
hockey,” Helga retorted.  “You healed him when I couldn’t.  So much
for all my great magic.  All it took was one night with you to break the
curse.”  She gave Clare a salacious wink and lowered her voice. 
“Although I never thought to have sex with him.  I doubt I’m his type,
though.  He probably hasn’t forgiven me for my little demonstrations the
other day.”

The
thought of the look on his face if Helga tried to hop into bed with him made
Clare smile.  It felt like her face cracked, but it was a start.

Her
mother set a tea tray down on the table and poured them all cups of fresh hot
oolong.  Served with Helga’s delectable wedding teacakes—ground almonds
and butter rolled warm in powdered sugar—Clare almost felt human again.

Selma
gave her a tentative smile and squeezed her hand.  “I called Helga. 
I hope you don’t mind.”

“No,
I’m glad.”  And she was, Clare realized.  She’d dreaded facing her
mentor and admitting her failure, but now that it was all out in the open, she
could start to think about her future.  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do
yet, but I’m glad you’re both here.”

Helga
jumped a little in her chair like someone had goosed her.  “But your
trials, dear.  Aren’t you still going to participate?”

 
“Why should I?”  Maybe she was missing something obvious.  Or maybe
Helga had sniffed one too many of her concoctions.  Because once a witch
lost her virginity, her power was gone.  Poof.  Just like that stupid
fragile little piece of skin that used to be so prized by men as they searched
for their perfect innocent little bride.  “Look around you and the truth
is obvious.  I’ve lost my magic.  I don’t have anything to offer the
Academy.”

“You
have a great deal to offer the Academy, Clare Remy.”  Helga slammed her
cup down on the table so hard that tea sloshed over the side.  “Do you
think I’m a poor judge of character and skill?  I selected you because of
what you’re capable of, not because of your magic.”

Bewildered,
Clare looked from her mentor to her mother and back.  “The world’s best
wizards come to the Academy for training.  What could I possibly offer
when I don’t have any magic myself?”

Helga
gave her a scowl that was almost worthy of Yiorgos’s fiercest glare.  “Are
you telling me that you don’t know of any great mundane chefs?  Or I am to
believe that every renowned chef in the world is actually a wizard?  Or
how about the many colleagues I’ve consulted with over the years at the world’s
best hospitals.  Are they all wizards too?”

“But…”

“You
have a gift,” Helga cut in.  “A palate that can’t be matched.  The
magic simply made your job easier.”

“I
can’t cook.”  Tears burned Clare’s eyes, despair bubbling back to the
surface.  “Look at how many things I ruined today.  I can’t do it
anymore!”

“You
think
you can’t cook because you lost your magic, and so you failed to
trust in your
innate
magic.  The heart and soul of you that makes
you special and unique.  That’s the real magic, Clare.  Touch that,
draw from that power, and you’ll bake as well as you ever did.”

“I
don’t understand.  Mom, explain it to her.  You quit medicine when
you married Daddy, right?  You lost your magic.  How can I go on when
my magic is gone?”

Selma
sighed heavily and slumped in her seat.  “I was too lazy to continue my
studies once I lost my magic.  Besides, I thought I had it all.  I
married a handsome man I loved, and he had his magic.  That was enough for
me.  I could have gone to medical school and officially completed my
degree so I could open a practice, but I chose not to.  I guess in a way I
was afraid.  I was afraid I’d try and fail, and it was easier to just
accept my fate and love my family.  I don’t have any regrets in having
you, Clare.  But I could have had you
and
pursued my
doctorate.  I should have.  I’m not going to sit here and let you
make the same mistake.”

“Think
of your magic as a well deep inside you.”  Helga said.  “The well is
still there.  However, you can’t access the water directly any
longer.  Where it used to bubble up freely whenever you even thought about
cooking, you may have to haul up a bucket at a time.  It’s hard, grueling
work, Clare, but the ability, the innate talent, is still there.  You
won’t be able to depend on luck or perfect timing any longer.  You’ll
actually have to work at cooking. 

“Sometimes
you’re going to burn a loaf.  Or you’ll experiment with a new recipe and
the flavors won’t meld like you hoped.  But you still have all the gifts
of a talented chef, and you can teach many a kitchen witch how to draw on their
own innate talents while relying less on magic.  To be honest, that kind
of ability would make you even more valuable to the Academy than a
run-of-the-mill kitchen witch.”

The
suspicion Clare had felt during Helga’s demonstration returned in spades. 
It was all too neat and tidy.  Helga had brought the note summoning her to
Remy’s
.  Helga had treated her father for years and never told
anyone he was sick.  What crazy plans had they concocted together? 
Would they actually stoop to cursing an innocent man and setting her up to lose
her virginity?

But
why?

Unless
this was all some kind of test.  On the surface, her wizard trials were
supposed to be proving she could cook a fantastic meal for the Wizard Council,
but perhaps there was more to the formal tests than she’d been told. 

With
a breezy smile, Helga stood to go.  “The same courage and determination
that wouldn’t let you sit back and follow along with whatever coddling Mr.
Michelopoulos had in mind for you will guide you through your trials,
Clare.  Show us all what kind of mettle this kitchen witch is truly made
of.”

“I
never believed Daddy would curse anyone.”  Clare drew herself up and met
her mentor’s gaze.  Helga might be the most powerful witch in North
America, but if she’d deliberately set this whole sordid plan in motion for
some nefarious plot… 
I might not have any magic left, but I’ll not let
her get away with hurting Yiorgos.
  “But I could definitely see you
casting that spell, Helga.  Does the Council know that you can bespell
someone completely into obeying your commands?”

“Of
course not, dear.”  Helga waltzed toward the door, completely
unruffled.  “They’d never eat any of my food ever again.  Or yours,
for that matter.” 

“What
did you get out of all of this?”

“Just
a fabulously talented apprentice, my dear.”  And with that cryptic
comment, Helga transported both of them.

Stumbling
with surprise, it took Clare a moment to orientate herself.  Lights
bounced off stainless steel, blinding her.  Unless she were mistaken, she
stood in the Academy’s state-of-the-art test kitchens.  “Maybe I should
fail my trials just to punish you for what you did to us!”

Helga’s
voice came from all directions.  “My dear, dear Clare, I beg you to
forgive me for causing you any heartache.  Your father and I both love you
very much, and I give you my word that this was all done with his knowledge and
approval.”

Hurt
as much as she was angry, Clare whispered, “Why did you do this to me?”

“You’ve
always been my greatest student, but you have the potential to be one of the
most powerful witches we’ve ever seen.”

“How? 
I don’t have my magic any longer!”

“Just
cook your best, dear.  Put your heart and soul into your food as you
always did.  Your heart will guide you.”

My
heart led me to lose everything for Yiorgos. 

Her
heart ached, yearning for him so strongly she absently rubbed her chest, trying
to ease the pain.  Could she re-learn how to cook without magic in a
matter of hours?  Would she ever be able to bake another chocolate cake as
good as the one she’d made for him?  Would this heartrending loneliness
ever fade?

Opening
up the cupboards to take a quick tour of what equipment she had available,
Clare began shuffling through her mental recipe box, trying to decide what to
try first. 
I might be able to cook without magic, but I’m terribly
afraid I’ll only miss him more every single day.

Yiorgos
stormed into
Remy’s
kitchen and bellowed, “Where is she?”

Red-faced
and sweating, Dmitri shot him a dirty look from the stove.  “That’s what
I’d like to know.  Man, I’m glad you’re back!”

“Have
you seen her?”

“No. 
I thought she was with you.”

Frantic
wings beat inside Yiorgos, demanding he find her right this very minute before
she was lost to him forever.  Without answering, he turned sharply and
strode to the rear office.

Dmitri
shut the door quietly behind him.  “I suppose now isn’t a good time to
have a private conversation with you on a personal subject.”

Yiorgos
flung himself into the easy chair in the corner and drummed his fingers on the
padded arm.  “Of course not,” he said, trying not to be snide.  “Just
make it quick.”

“I
hereby offer you my resignation.”

His
fingers stilled.  For once the man had actually managed to surprise
him.  Before he could open his mouth, Dmitri continued hurriedly, as if he
was afraid he’d change his mind.  “I’ve accepted a position in St. Paul,
MN to manage another restaurant.  It’s a small and out of the way place,
rather like
Remy’s
I guess, but I hope to help them do great things.”

“I
see.”  Yiorgos drew his words out slowly, keeping his face utterly
smooth.  He’d miss Dmitri, but he should have seen this coming a long time
ago.  He’d abused the man’s constant steady presence and loyalty one too
many times. 

“My
wife’s family lives in the Twin Cities,” Dmitri continued.  “I’ve promised
her for years that we’d move back.  Her father called me because he heard
this place was struggling and in need of some serious help.  They can’t
pay much now, but I’m sure we’ll turn things around.”

Plans
were already unfolding in Yiorgos’s mind, but he merely stood and offered his
hand to the other man.  “I’m sure you will, Dmitri.  You’ve been an
incredible manager and friend and I count myself lucky to have known you. 
I appreciate your dedication to your family, and I apologize for delaying your
move for so long.”

Dmitri
shook his hand in a daze.  “I didn’t expect you to let me go.”

Yiorgos
let a slight smile curve his mouth. 
I’m not.
  “Do what you
need to do, my friend, but I hope you’ll help me track down Clare before you
leave.”

“Of
course, that’s the least I can do.  Didn’t you bring her back from St.
Louis?”

“No.” 
He didn’t elaborate on the hours he’d spent interrogating hotel staff to track
her footsteps to the bus station.  God, his sweet little witch on a dirty,
stinky bus.  She must have gotten off somewhere outside of town and called
someone for a ride, because he’d lost her trail.  Otherwise, she’d still
be on that damned bus, stopping every mile or two along the freeway.

He
held up his naked hand.  “Notice anything new about me?”

“The
ring!”  Dmitri’s eyes lit up.  “She broke the curse!  How did
she escape you, then?”

Ah,
his friend knew him all too well.  “She tiptoed out while I was
recovering.”  The other man coughed into his hand, no doubt hiding a
snicker.  “From her healing, you idiot.  The magic she used to break
the curse was so powerful it shattered her father’s ring.  Now she’s
powerless, lost, alone, and I have to find her.”