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Authors: Michelle Rowen

BOOK: Inevitable
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Little did he know that they'd stop to have sex by his front door first. If they hadn't, however, they wouldn't have been here to witness Charlotte's arrival.

Ryan pulled Emma to the side, crushing her against his chest as the butler walked by again. Luckily, the man didn't seem to notice them hiding beside a hulking black armoire.

Xavier was still in the now-familiar library. The door was ajar and Emma and Ryan moved close enough to hear the conversation within.

“A pleasure as always, Charlotte.” Through the slightly ajar door they could see Xavier approach Charlotte, clasp her hands in his and kiss both of her cheeks. “I'll get right down to business. I'm interested in acquiring a new set of items. I'm hoping that you can help me.”

“Of course I can,” she replied. “For the right price, of course.”

He laughed jovially at this. “A woman who loves money is a woman after my own heart. Yes, I will pay dearly for this if you can get it for me.”

“What is it?”

“A set of five glass jars, each containing a piece of a djinn. I have information that leads me to believe that PARA currently has them in their possession.”

Emma gasped. That bastard had taken the information from her, then turned right around and given it to someone else. He wanted the jars, but he wanted his regular supplier to get them. Of all the damn nerve.

Not that the jars really existed, but it was the principle of the thing.

Charlotte's eyes widened, more with curiosity than with shock. “May I ask where you got this information?”

Emma held her breath and clutched Ryan's arm. Xavier had just shown that he wasn't very trustworthy. There was a high probability he'd sell her out if it served his purpose.

He shook his head after a moment. “I'm afraid not. My sources are my own.”

She exhaled and the knot in her stomach loosened a little. She and Ryan exchanged another glance. Xavier was an opportunistic bastard, but he wasn't totally without a moral code.

Charlotte paced back and forth between the leather couch and bookcase on the left side of the room. “If PARA has these pieces, then I think I might be able to get them for you.”

“I'm very glad to hear it.”

“It might take a little time though. I'll need to consult with my partner.”

Xavier nodded. “Ah, your mysterious partner. When might I meet him or her?”

“Right about the same time you tell me who told you about these jars.” She smiled thinly.

Again, Emma worried that the old man might betray her confidence. She was banking on him wanting to keep the lines of communication open, but now she wasn't so sure.

Emma's body still ached pleasantly from being with Ryan only a few minutes ago, but she had to keep her wits about her. She'd trusted Charlotte. They'd been roommates. Emma had always thought of her as family. Someone to be trusted. Someone who knew the value of friendship over cold, hard cash.

The thought that Charlotte had anything to do with
framing Ryan was hard to swallow. But the proof of her guilt stood before them, taking secret meetings and making deals.

Then again, she'd thought she'd seen Ryan take the items from PARA that night. If there was a potion that could make someone look like somebody else, maybe someone was trying to look like Charlotte right now.

But why would they do that? Nobody was here to witness it. Manhattan was a three-hour drive from Mystic Ridge.

“We need to get out of here,” Ryan whispered. “Before somebody sees us.”

She nodded. “And then what?”

“Then you're going to have a talk with Charlotte later. And I'll need to hunt down Stephen. Since he's sleeping with her, he's either completely ignorant or he's involved. We'll get to the bottom of this.”

They quickly left the house, slipping as quietly as possible through the front door, then returned to the car parked in a lot two blocks away.

“I'm sorry, Ryan,” Emma said, her heart heavy after what they'd discovered. She'd wanted the truth, but these particular answers were hard to face. She felt like crying, but she held back the tears and tried her best to be strong.

“Sorry?” He looked at her quizzically.

“It's just…Charlotte.” She shook her head. “I just can't believe it.”

“I think she's kept plenty from you, Em. The other day, she followed me to my motel and threw herself at me.”

Emma felt herself grow cold. “She
threw herself
at you?”

“Yes.”

“And what happened?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Ryan shook his head, a look of amusement creeping back onto his handsome face. “I'm not exactly interested in moving backward. Charlotte's in my past. PARA's in my past, too.”

He didn't elaborate, but his words were enough to trigger immediate questions for Emma. “So everything in Mystic Ridge is in your past?”

Ryan frowned. “My brother…he has a garage and he wants me to help him out with it, as equal partners. I'll be working with beautiful cars, something that has always been my first love. Sometimes you just have to take a risk.” He grinned and shook his head. “I've realized through this whole experience that that's what life's all about. Risks. And the people who don't take them, don't put themselves out there, are usually not all that happy.”

“Sounds like the perfect job for you, actually.” Emma nodded. She knew Ryan had a thing for cars. Like, a
big
thing. “Where's your brother's business?”

“Miami.”

“Oh.” Her stomach sank. “That's a long way from here.”

He hesitated. “Yeah, it is. But it's the right move for me, I feel it. Even if I manage to clear my name, I wouldn't go back to PARA.”

“Right. It's in your past.” Emma swallowed past the rapidly growing lump in her throat. “It's also a long drive back to Mystic Ridge, so we better head out.”

They got in the car and Ryan put his hand over Emma's. She turned to look at him.

His gaze was serious and it sank into her. “I really can't thank you enough for believing in me, Em. You don't know what it means.”

“It's the least I can do,” she said.

His lips twitched into a smile. “And you can't say that we haven't had a lot of fun along the way, no matter what the outcome is.”

Fun.
It seemed like a very small and unimportant word for what she felt. “Yeah, it's been great.”

She didn't know what to make of this conversation. She'd believed what she and Ryan had shared was real. That her feelings for him were real. That he felt something in return for her. But now she was starting to second guess herself.

He was leaving Mystic Ridge. He was moving forward.

Emma wondered what would happen when he was finished here once and for all. Maybe he'd experienced enough of Emma to last him a lifetime.

The feeling wasn't mutual.

But that was just something she'd just have to deal with. After all, life was about taking risks…

14

R
YAN DROVE THE ENTIRE DISTANCE
back to town, blasting the radio and trying to temporarily take his mind off what they'd found out in the city. If nothing else, he was glad that he knew part of the truth. He was deeply disappointed in Charlotte, but he couldn't say he was totally surprised. The girl
had
come from money. Lots of it. It was only the last few years that she'd had to make ends meet on her own. Charlotte was champagne and caviar, not beer and fast food.

He knew Charlotte hated having no money to buy the shiny things she used to take for granted.

And she
had
been driving that nice little luxury coupe yesterday, hadn't she? He didn't remember her having that when he was still around.

Emma had been quiet on the way home. She'd answered him if he asked her something directly, but otherwise, she seemed lost in her thoughts. He couldn't really blame her.

Emma was so completely different from Charlotte. Emma would never steal. She'd work three jobs before she'd stoop that low, or, more likely, she'd do without,
because she wasn't capable of hurting someone only to get what she wanted. No question about it.

Emma.

In most of his relationships, the sex had started out mind-blowing only to become less and less exciting over time. It was the reason he'd resisted taking things with Emma to the next level—because he was afraid that would be it. What they had, their friendship, would be sacrificed.

He'd been wrong. It might have to do with the fact that he really, genuinely liked her. “Like” was such an underrated element of being with somebody. They were friends, he could talk to her, he was interested in what she had to say. She made him laugh.

And the sex… He couldn't get enough of her.

Hell, just thinking about her body pressed against his was enough to make him hard again. He wanted her more every time they'd made love and that hadn't faded a fraction since the potion's effects had dissipated. It was extremely distracting. And extremely exciting. So he
liked
her. They were friends. But he also craved her touch, her body, her scent, her taste. Everything. She believed in his innocence. She had faith in him. And the thought of leaving her to go to Miami was tying him up in knots.

Yeah. The proof was staring him right in the face.

He was in love with Emma Black.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

Love.

So this is what it feels like
, he thought wryly.
Good to know.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do with this feeling yet. He couldn't remember if he'd actually felt this
level of emotion for any one person before. He honestly didn't think so because, truthfully, it was scary as hell.

And it was not on his list of things to do while in Mystic Ridge. No, falling in love with Emma had definitely not been in his plans.

Taking full advantage of the Desidero potion and sleeping with her…sure. Falling in love…nope.

But sometimes things just happened. Them finding each other again after all the misunderstandings—well, maybe that had been fate intervening to let them know they were meant to be together.

But first Ryan had to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding Charlotte and the stolen supernatural goods. Then he'd have to figure out what came next with Emma. The thought was curiously exciting.

 

W
HEN
E
MMA CALLED
Charlotte later that day, her friend had said she couldn't meet for coffee and dessert right away. She was busy doing errands.

Errands.
Some errands.

Charlotte had made no mention that those errands had been in New York City and they'd involved meeting with Xavier Franklin about stolen enchanted merchandise to add to his growing collection.

Just thinking about it fried Emma's insides.

A shiny silver sports car pulled up in front of the café, and parked. Charlotte got out of the driver's side, smiled and waved at her. The vehicle was a far cry from the used car Charlotte had driven until recently. Emma felt like such a fool. Charlotte had told her she'd inherited the money from a distant uncle.

What a load of crap.

“Sorry I'm late.” Charlotte gave Emma a quick hug before sitting down across the table from her.

“No problem. I know you've been busy.”

“You have no idea.”

Yes, actually I think I do,
Emma thought bitterly.

She was very careful not to let on what she felt inside. Since Charlotte was an empath she might be able to sense Emma's current animosity.

Emma repressed a wry smile. It was Charlotte herself who'd told Emma how to evade an empath. All she had to do was keep happy thoughts in her head if she was sad. Sad thoughts if she was happy. Etcetera. Only an extremely gifted empath—like Patrick, for example—could tell the difference. Charlotte wasn't that gifted.

She was very good at being bad, though. She wasn't giving away even a hint of intrigue yet.

Emma had a moment of doubt. Could someone else have used the doppelganger potion to impersonate her today?

The shiny car, expensive handbag, and designer shoes weren't conclusive evidence. Not by a long shot.

The waitress came over and took Charlotte's order for a pot of tea and a slice of strawberry cheesecake. When the woman left, Charlotte placed the menu back in the holder on the table.

“So,” Charlotte said, looking across the table with concern. “I'm glad you asked me to meet you here, Emma. I wanted to talk to you about something important. Something I'm worried about. You've always looked out for me, so now I want to return the favor.”

Emma tensed. Maybe Charlotte was feeling guilty over what she'd done and was ready to confess. Emma was ready to hear it, to know her friend was remorseful. It would make a huge difference to her.

“What is it?” She leaned forward a little to give Charlotte her undivided attention.

“It's Ryan. I know he's still lurking about around town. And I know you're sleeping with him.” Charlotte shook her head. “It's just not healthy, Emma. You need to get away from him. He's a bad influence on you.”

Emma's stomach sank. “Oh? You think so, do you?”

“I do.”

“And may I ask how you know I'm sleeping with him? It isn't exactly public knowledge.”

Charlotte raised a thin eyebrow. “If I had any doubts, you've just confirmed it for me.” Well, hell.

“What can I say?” Emma held up her hands, deciding to play along. “I think it was kind of inevitable that I'd succumb to his charms one day.”

Charlotte's tea arrived and she dunked the tea bag in, pushing it down into the hot water with the back of her spoon. “Maybe. But you need to stay away from him. I understand how you feel. I was involved with him, too. But he's a con artist. He'll make you believe he's in love with you and then he'll use you and walk away without a backward glance.”

Emma's blood pressure rose with every word that came out of Charlotte's mouth. She desperately wanted to casually mention that she knew Charlotte had thrown herself at Ryan at his motel yesterday, and that he'd turned her down.

Happy thoughts only.

Bottom line, she now trusted Ryan and she didn't trust Charlotte, come what may. This shift in her perception meant that the man was now fully capable of breaking her heart into a million pieces if he chose to. It was dangerous to give all your trust to one person, but sometimes it wasn't an option. It simply was.

“I guess I just wish I had somebody like Stephen,”
Emma forced the words out. “He's so reliable, so trustworthy.”

“You make him sound like a family doctor.” Charlotte grinned. “That's not too sexy.”

Emma took a slow sip of her cappuccino. “Depends on the doctor. But what I meant was that you really lucked out when you two hooked up.”

Charlotte leaned back in her seat as she added a packet of sugar substitute to her tea. “It's true. Stephen and I are perfect for each other. We want the same things out of life—a great future, adventure, love. The works.”

Emma fixed an even smile on her face. “Well, Charlotte, I truly hope you get everything you deserve.”

She really, really meant it.

 

R
YAN WAITED AT A
British-style pub called O'Grady's where he knew Stephen went every night at eight o'clock for a beer and a game of darts. It was a ritual they used to share.

If Charlotte was in on this, Stephen likely was, too. And Ryan wanted to know, for sure, if Stephen was the “partner” Franklin had referred to at his mansion earlier.

If so, then Ryan's ex-girlfriend and his best friend had conspired to destroy his life. That didn't sit well with him. At all.

Right on time, Stephen walked in. Ryan sat on a stool at the bar and tried to pretend he wasn't laying in wait, like a hungry lion watching a back-stabbing gazelle approach a slow-moving river to quench its thirst.

“Holy shit,” he heard from behind him. “Ryan Shephard?”

Ryan forced surprise to show on his face as he turned
around. “Stephen Robbins. What the hell are you doing here?”

“What am
I
doing here? I should ask you the same question.” Stephen wore a short-sleeve button-down shirt and black pants. Ryan couldn't help but note the expensive Italian loafers. And that wasn't all that had changed. Stephen's light brown hair wasn't as messy as it used to be. Instead, it was styled, which made Ryan think his old friend had been going to a salon and paying big bucks to try to look like something out of GQ. And he wore a gold Rolex on his left wrist, a lot like the one Xavier Franklin had sported. It wasn't exactly something your average paranormal investigator could afford.

Ryan wasn't an official investigator anymore, but even he could spot the clues when they were so blatantly obvious.

“Yeah,” Ryan grinned. “I'm back.”

Stephen glanced over his shoulder, as if scanning the bar to see if anyone would witness him speaking with someone who was
persona non grata
in the general area. Then he slid onto the stool directly next to Ryan. “It's seriously great to see you. I've missed you, man.”

“Thanks.” Ryan tried to loosen his grip on the mug of draft in front of him. Stephen was acting too friendly. This would be much easier if he was a complete dick.

“You doing okay?” Stephen asked after he flagged down the bartender and ordered a mug of the same beer Ryan was drinking.

“Never better.”

Stephen frowned. “I'm surprised you're here. Any reason? Or are you just looking for trouble?”

“I'm looking for trouble all right. I'm here because of Emma.”

“Oh, yeah?” Stephen's brows went up. “What about her?”

“What do you think?”

Stephen studied him for a moment before his smile returned. “She is pretty damn hot.”

“She is.”

He snorted. “I will admit to having a few fantasies involving those sexy high heels she wears.”

Ryan tried to ignore the stab of jealousy that statement brought forth. They were just two guys talking at a bar. Casual. He had to draw out the truth any way he could. Punching Stephen in the face might not help matters.

“I'm not sure Charlotte would approve of those fantasies,” Ryan said pointedly.

Stephen looked at him guardedly. “So I'm guessing that you know about me and Charlotte.”

“That would be a good guess.”

He shrugged. “Sorry. You were out of the picture and she was available.”

Ryan watched the bartender move to the end of the counter and wipe the top off with a wet cloth. This was his chance. He'd decided that his best plan of attack was to try to drive a wedge between Stephen and Charlotte, which might help loosen Stephen's tongue. He didn't have to reach too far to figure out a way to do just that.

“Charlotte hit on me yesterday,” he said.

“What?” Stephen growled.

“She followed me to my motel yesterday and kissed me. In fact, she wanted to do more than that, but I told her to get lost.”

Stephen stared at him incredulously. “Charlotte kissed you. Yesterday.”

Ryan waved his hand flippantly. “Don't worry, I'm not interested in her anymore.”

“I think you should leave now,” Stephen said in a menacing tone. “I'd forgotten that you're not wanted around here anymore. We don't like thieves and liars.”

Ryan studied his face. This man had been his friend. And there was a chance that Stephen knew nothing about Charlotte's dealings with Franklin. If so, Stephen needed to separate himself from the situation as fast as he could.

“Charlotte…” he said. “She's no good. And she's going to drag you down if you let her.”

“Listen carefully to me, Shephard,” Stephen said between clenched teeth, “If you go near Charlotte again, you'll be sorry. Stick with your little smut writer.”

Ryan's shoulders stiffened. “Excuse me?”

Stephen glared at him. “Charlotte told me that Emma wrote a dirty book and is trying to keep it a secret from everyone.” He smirked. “I guess that means she's a hellcat in the sack, right? Who knew?”

Ryan curled his hand into a fist at his side and counted to ten in his head. He wasn't going to get any answers from Stephen tonight. His former friend had always been a hothead, quick to anger. “I think it was a mistake to come here.”

“You're right. It was.”

Ryan forced a smile, but his jaw was clenched. “See you around, Stephen.”

Stephen's gaze was narrowed as Ryan slipped off his stool and started toward the door. “Just stay the hell away from Charlotte.”

“Don't worry,” Ryan replied under his breath as he pushed through the exit door. “She's all yours.”

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