Mathilda, SuperWitch (18 page)

* * * * *

Yes, this happened.

* * * * *

To me.

* * * * *

When he got back to the car he said, “I’m taking you home.”

I could think of nothing but…

“What about the Peking duck?”

He looked at me under his brows as he put the car in gear.

I started babbling, “I’m supposed to order the Peking duck. I’m supposed to get the table. In the alcove. At the back. Peking duck is important. I’ve been looking forward to Peking duck all day… no, all week. The girls are counting on me.”

We screeched away from the hotel.

“They’ll get over it.”

* * * * *

He took me to The Gables and the minute I got out of the car, the bag with the pots clutched in one hand, my sausages, lavender and carrots clutched in the other, he skidded out of the driveway without a backward glance… off in the Purple People Eater to track the bad guys.

Needless to say, this turn of events meant Junior Poon’s wine bar was out of the question.

Everyone descended on The Gables instead.

After I’d told the story for the five hundredth time and had mellowed out on a Shiraz cabernet blend that was really just an ugly stepsister to the Pinot Noir, Ash came back.

“Did you find them?” I asked.

“No.”

“Did you total my car?”

“No.”

“Fuck!” I shouted.

“You can say that again. That car is shite,” Lucy said.

“
Fuck!
” I shouted again.

Ash handed me a bag.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s Peking duck.”

After chasing the bad guys in a suped-up Micra, Ash went out and got me some Peking duck.

From Junior’s.

How do you like that?

3 April

Okay.

I… have got… to get… my shit… together.

I mean, screaming like a girl? I’m a witch,
the
witch for goddesses’ sake.

I had my wand on me and I didn’t have it together enough to do a spell, even a simple spell, to help out Ash.

I just sat there, silent or screaming.

How embarrassing.

And after that performance, he brought me crispy duck from Junior’s.

What am I supposed to make of that?

He must be wondering what he’s gotten himself in for, laying his life on the line for the likes of me.

And what is going on with all this nonsense, Darling and Addison at the Italian Place, Mom and Gran and everyone here, without plans to return home anytime soon?

And what is the deal with no one telling me any Prophesies, Ash and Aidan looking and not touching (well, not exactly but almost).

And what exactly is Josie going to do that is so fucking important to the world’s future that I have to protect her? Who’s after her and why and where are they now?

Ash is gone, left this morning, Mom tells me, to go to London. I’m to stay at The Gables or be taken by Mom, Gran or Mavis to the café.

Ash’s Edicts: No Junior Poon’s, no Tandoori Nights, no Moon and Sixpence and absolutely no driving around in the Purple People Eater. Ole Purple needs to stay “out of sight”.

Okay.

Last but not least…

If I’m The Chosen One, why is my bodyguard giving me orders?

17 April

Get this.

If… you… can… believe… this is what just happened!

* * * * *

Obviously, slept like the dead (the dead I almost was!).

(Will tell why later…)

Woke up all snuggly, warm, happy all covered in heavy blankets and tucked in tight.

Sun was shining on my face, very rare of a morning in England.

Felt like staying there forever and ever.

Snuggled deeper into bed and warm thing behind me.

Warm Thing
moved!

Before I could, like, totally freak out, Warm Thing’s arm tensed (not heavy blankets on me – heavy Warm Thing arm on me) and hand which was on my breast tightened with thumb finding just the right spot.

Holy crap!

Oh me.

Oh my.

I maybe made a little noise in my throat.

Just a little one.

(Scared? Or other?)

Warm Thing moved and I heard, “Good Morning,” in my ear said in throaty, warm, sexy, sleepy
Ash
voice.

Yowza!

And.

Ack!

What the…?

Felt nuzzling at my neck.

Felt nuzzling other places too.

Body melted.

Mind freaked out.

(Chest hurt like hell but more on that later…)

Hands were moving (not mine).

Lips on neck.

Oh me.

Maybe made another little noise.

Oh my.

Ash gently turned me over to face him and before he kissed me…

* * * * *

Okay… maybe I’m one of those people who sabotages their happiness.

I mean, after all these months, I was somehow in bed with Ash all cuddly warm and yummy.

Yesterday, life nearly passed me by and now, here I was all scrum-delicious with the most fantastically handsome, delectably cool man (not to mention fab kisser) I’d ever met.

Yet.

I don’t know.

Maybe I should see a shrink.

Maybe I should relax and go with the flow.

Take a few risks.

Live a little.

* * * * *

Or maybe…

* * * * *

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Nudging close to my ear he said, “I think that’s fairly obvious.”

Mm.

He would be right.

One of his hands was doing very lovely things around my bottom and toying delicately with my panties.

Er… is it me or is this going fast? (Sabotage)

We haven’t even been on a date! (Sabotage)

“Um… ” (Sabotage) “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I asked. (Sabotage!)

“What?” I got the impression that he wasn’t paying much attention to me.

Well, he was paying attention to me but he wasn’t paying attention to me, if you know what I mean.

“Well, this whole… er… ” His hand went somewhere rather nice. “Um… you’re my bodyguard.”

With some attention to my injury (more on that later…), he pulled up my knee and hooked it over his hip then his thigh slid between mine and he used his hand on my bottom to push me along it and…
oh my.

I started panting.

“What whole bodyguard thing?” Ash murmured.

“Well, um… won’t this… kind of… ”

Panting and unable to finish my thought some time later, doggedly, I went on.

“I mean, yesterday… The Prophesies… The Chosen One gig… er… black dragon… ” More panting. “You know… or, the fact that we haven’t even been out to dinner, or, a… uh… movie… is this the right thing to do?”

Ash didn’t even pause with what he was doing,
anything
he was doing.

But he answered.

“Considering The Prophesies say you’re to bear me three children, I don’t think…”

Ack!

Ackity
ack ack!

Ack!

Hold on a minute!

I froze.

Then I shouted, “
What?
”

“Two sons and a daughter,” he murmured into my neck.

I reared back rather violently (must… ignore… pain… in… chest!) which caught Ash off guard. Instead of going back, my bucking and Ash compensating caused us to roll over…

Ash on his back…

Me on top.

Being the brainiac I am and in my complete panic after hearing future-father-of-my-unborn-children news, I lifted both knees to pull myself away and escape, escape, escape!

I ended up straddling him about ready to push off to leap from the bed when Ash’s hands landed on my hips to keep me where I was.

“Hang on,” Ash growled.

Ack!

Two sons…

And…

A daughter.

“What? Do The Prophesies say we’re supposed to get married or something?” I said, kinda flippantly, like that would ever happen.

“Yes,” Ash answered.

“
What?
” I shouted again. “What, what, what?”

I tried to push off and somewhat succeeded and got to my feet beside the bed but he came up after me, caught me and spun me around. I collided with his body (“Careful,” he said quietly, trying to hold me still but again, not the time to collide into a gorgeous man’s body – not when in full-on-panic-mode-escape-escape-escape-two-sons-one-daughter-second-degree-burns-on-chest-yikes!).

He shook me gently. “Mathilda, calm down.”

“I’m not marrying you,” I blurted it out. I couldn’t help myself.

“Yes, you are,” he answered, completely calm and looking at me somehow amused.

How was this amusing?

Ever?

In the History of Amusing Things, how does this fit?

“Witches get married and then never see their husbands again!” (Me)

“Mm.” (Ash, clearly unconcerned at this juncture)

“Their children grow up fatherless.” (Me)

“Not exactly.” (Ash)

“It’s not going to happen.” (Me)

“Yes, it is.” (Ash)

“
No… no… what? Are you asking me to marry you… like, now?” (Me –
ack!
)

“No.” (Ash)

“Well then?” (Me)

Ash had one hand at my back, one hand
not
at my back.

“What are you doing?” (Me – hysterical.)

“Matty.” (Ash)

Wait!

Ash never called me Matty.

By the way, a couple of Ash’s fingers had gone renegade from this rather important conversation we were semi-having. And his fingers’ antics were causing me to lose track of the conversation.

In fact, losing track was not the way to put it.

We ended up standing there, one of my legs curled around Ash’s hip, my hands in his hair and his fingers doing the talking.

It was his turn to avoid my lips but he was just being perverse.

“I wanted to say…” Ash, voice slightly husky, “You were impressive yesterday.”

A compliment on my Craft?

From Ash?

I opened my eyes to look at him and he was looking at me in that clotted cream way again and I have to admit, I lost it.

As in, really lost it.

In a very,
very
nice way.

In other words, an
orgasmic
nice way (literally).

(I lost it so much, I think I might have even bit him, just a little bit, on the shoulder.)

When I’d pulled it together, still holding onto him, he said, again in that husky voice, “And impressive just now.”

Eek!

Of course, he walked out after that.

He didn’t leave me standing there but kissed my fucking nose and sat me on the edge of the bed, leaned in close then whispered, “You owe me one.”

Then he took off, only wearing the jeans he obviously slept in.

Leaving me in his t-shirt.

Leaving me with the smell of him in his t-shirt.

And the feel of his fingers.

Yowza.

It would seem I owe him at least three.

* * * * *

I remember watching
Dynasty
and thinking Joan Collins was the shit with all the drama and lacy peignoir sets and Blake and Dex and everyone coming out with those sexy one-liners and exiting a room.

Oh, my heart.

I ate it up.

But, no one lives like that.

No one.

But me.

(Without the lacy peignoir sets.)

* * * * *

By the way: Ash + Six Pack = Yes.