Читать книгу Hot Spell - Michelle Rowen - Страница 10

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.”