Annette Blair (9 page)

“It means heaven on earth,” Kira said. “A
life
-altering experience.”

“Yeah, right.” Jason mocked her with his tone. “Give me a break. Wait. Is there a number of crows that portends the finding of a hidden staircase? Because I’ll go out and find more crows, if I have to.”

“Calm down,” she said. “We’ve got weeks to look for the staircase and get Addie’s gravestone raised.”

“Wait a minute, what makes you think it’s Addie’s?”

“Hers isn’t in the cemetery, that I could find. She was the wife of the house’s builder, and since the fallen stone is the biggest monument out there, it has to be hers.”

“Right.”

“The cemetery’s perfect for a ghost tour,” Kira said. “And the house is quirky enough, with all its corners and gables, I’ll give you that. I can see why you picked the place, though not why you didn’t research it firs—”

Jason bristled.

Kira bit her lip. “Right. Been here, moving on. I’d like to create short stories about a couple of the characters beneath the cryptic headstones. You know, fictional pieces based on the epitaphs.”

“Why the hell would we want to do that?”

“To
up
the spook factor,” Kira said.

“But people would think the stories were real.”

“Not if we made it clear that they’re Halloween fiction,” she said, “based on a few sparse facts.”

Jason wasn’t convinced. Kira could tell. “C’mon,” she coaxed, “it’ll be fun. After all this research, I feel as if we know the Rainbow’s Edge residents pretty well, except for old Nate, who built the place and wrote most of the history books. He portrayed himself as such a great man, bragging about his women, that I’ve started to wonder about him. Something tells me that your grandfather wasn’t the only philanderer in town.”

“Gram always said there’d been rumors about Winthrop’s version of himself.” Jason chuckled. “You’re right, fictionalized stories, admittedly based on fact and hearsay, will add another layer of ghostly depth to the tour.” He picked a red-orange leaf from her hair, and grinned. “Same color. Almost missed it.”

She snatched it from his hand. “That’s not funny.”

Jason grinned anyway. “We have to find the staircase, hire caterers, a decorator, and heavy equipment to raise and replace the stone, but I feel as if we’re making progress.”

“I’d like to decorate the house myself,” Kira said. “I’d love to get my hands on the place, and I think I can do it for the cost of flowers and supplies, and save the foundation money. I might even be able to get some of the supplies donated. What do you say?”

“It would mean you’d have to put in more hours before and after the event,” Jason warned her, “whereas the decorators would normally be responsible for setup and takedown.”

“Yes and they’d charge big bucks for it, too. You’ve been
my boss for what, three days, and I’ve worked late on all of them. What would be different about this? And for that matter, what else do I have to do?”

“Fine, if you let me help.”

“What, climb ladders and swing from chandeliers, like all gorillas with canes do?” She shoved his shoulder with hers to show she was joking, pleased when he shoved hers the same way, showing he’d taken her teasing as such.

“I forgot about the cane,” he said. “Crap, I did forget about it; I left it in the library.”

“I’ll get it. Rest the knee.”

Kira went upstairs, grabbed his cane, heard flapping, and thought a bird had escaped the aviary, but no, two crows were landing on the windowsill. They looked at her and preened their feathers in a way that made her think they were happy. Weird.

Two crows meant a surprise was coming, a change for the better. Joy. Mirth. Maybe that was it. Kira walked over to the window and touched it, thinking she might frighten them. But the birds touched their beaks to the tip of her finger, the glass between them. “Bye, little crows,” she said, turning away with new hope for the success her job and the ghost tour.

A minute later she handed Jason his cane. “I think it must be a good sign for your recovery that you forgot it.”

“I guess so.”

“Just don’t go home and try to play hockey this afternoon.”

“This is bad,” he said.

“What?” she asked.

“That you can read my mind.”

“I wish,” she said. “Let’s go, I have a ton of paperwork waiting for me at the office.”

“Okay, here’s the plan in a nutshell,” he said after he climbed into the Hummer beside her and turned the key. “Tell me if you agree. Canapés and champagne as people arrive, a theatrical of the ghostly prank, the cemetery tour
with our ghoulish stories at a gravestone or two, then back to the house for a dessert buffet and cordials in the drawing room.”

“Perfect,” she said. “How about adding a live quartet in the music room, for after the cemetery, so people will feel free to dance or wander the house. We can wrap tiny white lights on the stair rail leading to the aviary.”

“Brilliant,” Jason said, as if he should have thought of it. “With the window behind their domed cage, the mischievous birds in their natural setting, the moon and stars behind them, will add to the eerie effect. Indirect lighting, music wafting up the stairs, and a visit to the aviary should round out our ghostly evening to perfection.”

Kira shook her head. “I can’t believe we’ve got the makings of a world-class ghost and graveyard tour at a mansion with no ghosts. Damned if you weren’t right. And don’t forget our real draw, our very own Ice Wolf, that famous kisser guy.”

Jason checked the rearview mirror and made a right turn. “You know, I did forget about him. What was his name again?”

Kira was sorry she mentioned his kisses, because his lips suddenly looked perfect for the job. She opened her notebook, cutting her admiration, and their conversation, short.

Back at the office they both had paperwork to catch up on. By mutual agreement, they left their hall doors closed, and the door between their offices open.

Sometimes they spoke, office to office, a comment, a rejoinder, but mostly they worked in companionable silence. It was nice knowing he was there, Kira thought, to bounce ideas off, or simply for a smile. Who knew the jock could be amusing?

Her phone rang at four. It was Billy. “Shit,” she said, hanging up.

“What?” Jason asked from his office.

“I forgot I had plans for dinner,” Kira said. “Good thing
your grandmother suggested I keep my special events wardrobe in the dressing room off my bathroom. Always smart to be ready, Bessie said, and she was right. You don’t mind if I leave early, do you?”

“Hell, no, you’ve earned it. Have fun.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Kira went into her bathroom to wash and change.

When she came out a half hour later, she went through her office and into Jason’s, still putting on the finishing touches.

Jason turned when he heard Kira come in, and zing, like magic, she’d turned into a goddess radiating pure sex.

Her low-riding black silk hip-hugging pants were topped by a long, sleeveless black and white tunic, a deep vee at the neck, leaving only two buttons between her breasts and nakedness. Beneath the second button, the vee on the tunic inverted, presenting a naked triangle centered by Kira’s belly button. But no worry, a nickel-sized cluster of multifaceted rhinestones filled the enticing well.

Fortunately for him, she’d come in combing back her cinnamon curls with a large Victorian fan comb and missed his ogling assessment.

Jason stepped away from the window as she looked up, zapped him with a man-hardening smile . . . and he walked into his desk.

“Ouch! Shit! Son of a bitch!”

“OH,
no,” Kira said. “Was that your bad knee?”

Jason looked at her with incredulity, and judging by her surprised reaction, his fury showed as well. And no wonder, this was all her fault.

“Oh, stop pouting and sit down,” she said. “Really.
You
walked into your desk, not me.”

She was right, damn it.

He sat, and God bless her, she knelt before him and rubbed his knee with her soft sensuous hands, while he looked down her tunic like a pervert. The view was so fine between her lush breasts that he could see all the way to her rhinestone belly button.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, and
he
was going to need oxygen.

Shit,
Jason thought as she continued rubbing his throbbing knee, her words soothing, her touch more so, his heat rising.

If Kira looked anywhere but at his face, or his knee, she
was going to be in for a surprise. “Where the hell do you keep your wand in that outfit?” he asked.

She whipped it from behind her. “In my pants.”

In her pants; that’s where
he
wanted to be.

Maybe he could pretend his knee was really damaged, so she would stay home and . . . tend him. “Where the hell are you going?” he asked her.

“To the country club for dinner with Billy. Why?”

“The Court Jester? He’s nothing but a soft, candy-ass playboy.”

“I know. That’s what I like about ‘Bewitching’ Billy.”

Jason ignored the “bewitching” part. “You like that he’s a no-account playboy without an ounce of responsibility in his lazy blue blood?”

Kira raised a knowing brow. “And the difference between the two of you would be?”

“Shit!” Jason repeated.

“Suddenly you like that word?” she said. “When I used it, you thought I had a hormone problem. Do you have a hormone problem?”

Hell, yes!
“I’m stifling my cussing instinct by substituting one four-letter word for another and cutting it short. Trust me, you don’t want to hear the locker-room variety.”

“For your information, Billy is not a jock, which is a definite plus in his favor, but I do realize he’s an egocentric playboy, which is why I couldn’t possibly fall for him. Honestly, he’s a blast to hang with, and he’s a great dancer.”

That hurt
. Jason pushed her hand away and rubbed his own knee.

She returned the favor by pushing his hand away and taking over again, thank the goddess.

“I’m sorry you can’t dance right now,” she said. “That was thoughtless of me.”

“Yes, it was, and it ranks right up there with sucking me into coaching hockey. You have now rubbed salt in my every wound. You owe me.”

“Hah,” she said, rubbing higher along his thigh than was prudent. “What do you suppose I owe you?” Was she purring? Did she like her hands on him as much he liked having them on him?

Had she seen his boner? How could she not? Was she flattered? Tempted? She certainly didn’t seem repulsed.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Billy said coming in. Then he stopped and frowned. “Am I, er, interrupting something here? I can go to the dance by myself, you know.”

Jason wanted to barf at Billy’s sad-little-boy look, perfected over years of practice at getting his own way.

“No,” Kira said, standing. “No, I’m ready. Jason just smacked his bad knee.”

“Helping him rub it, were you?” Billy kissed Kira’s nose, chuckled, and gave Jason a my-win/your-loss pity-smile.

When the spoiled idler snaked a possessive arm around Kira’s waist, Jason wanted to deck him, and jealousy was a feeling Jason liked about as much as a puck in the eye.

“Looks like you’ll be the one going it alone tonight,” Billy said to Jason. “Don’t be too
hard
on yourself. Have some fun; play some couch hockey, and don’t wait
up
.”

Billy turned Kira toward the connecting door and looked back. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” he said, throwing a wink Jason’s way. “We’ll probably want to sleep late.”

Kira cuffed him. “Cut it out.”

If she’d slugged him for the “sleeping late” comment, it didn’t make Jason feel a whole lot better. She was still leaving with the jerk.

Like watching his team skate to a slaughter, Jason watched Billy and Kira in her office, all touchy-feely as they prepared to leave on their date.

“Hey, Princess,” Billy said to her, “you’re shivering.” He placed a long black cape around her shoulders, hugging her from behind. “Maybe we should take a closed car,” he suggested. “It’d be warmer, and more private.”

Jason fisted his hands.

“No, I’m hot,” Kira said. “I mean, I’m warm . . . enough.
Let’s ride with the top down, like we planned.” She extracted herself from Billy’s embrace and turned Jason’s way.

He knew by her look that she’d caught him watching them. His dislike for Billy—for her and Billy together—must be clear in his expression.

They made eye contact, sizzling eye contact, if he was any kind of judge.

“Night, Jason,” she said, unmoving.

Jason wished he could ask her to stay, drive him home. He almost wished he wasn’t up to driving.

Problem was, if she stayed, he’d want to take her to bed. Who was he kidding? He already wanted to take her to bed. “Night, Kira,” he said. “Have a good time.”

“What?” Billy pouted as only Billy could. “Not wishing
me
a good time?” The jerk laughed his way out the door and down the hall, and Jason remembered how he might once have stolen a girl from Billy on the spot.

But Jason didn’t need a woman to complicate his life. Any woman. Life was complicated enough already.