Must Be Magic (5 page)

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she
called out softly and scratched the jamb, hoping to make an interesting enough
noise so the kitten would investigate. “Come on, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

Still no furball. The mewing
sounded again from the farthest corner of the shed. Kerry gripped the penlight
tighter. This was ridiculous. It was just a shed full of tools and one tiny
kitten. All she had to do was walk to the back, flash the light around until
she found the stray, pick it up, and leave. No big deal. Something anybody else
could do without a second thought. Why was it making her heart pound and her
upper lip break into a cold sweat?

“I can
do this,” she whispered.

She
shone the narrow beam of light into the yawning maw of darkness inside the
shed. Her breathing had turned to quick, shallow gasps. If she didn’t get
control of herself she would hyperventilate. She concentrated, taking deep
breaths through her nose and out her mouth.

But the
longer she stood there thinking about it, the worse it would get. She needed to
plunge into the shed and get it over with. She’d just be in there for a few
seconds, maybe a minute, and then she could come out into the open where the
floodlights gave the night enough brightness that she didn’t feel trapped.

Kerry
drew in a deep breath, clutched the jamb, and put one foot up on the threshold.
She waited a moment, but she hadn’t begun to really panic yet, so she brought
up her other foot.

Concentrate on saving the cat.
“Come here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” she called again.

More
mewing, but it didn’t seem to have moved away from the far corner.

Just do
it.

With the beam of the penlight
illuminating only a narrow strip of floor ahead of her, she took another deep
breath and walked forward. Halfway across the shed, the door slammed shut
behind her.

She
stopped and screamed, a short sharp sound that seemed to be swallowed up by the
darkness. She swung around, losing her bearings. Sweeping the penlight back and
forth, she tried to find something that looked familiar, but panic was seizing
her, clawing at her chest and throat. She thought she heard something scuttle
to her left and jerked the penlight in that direction. The plastic housing
slipped from her sweaty hand, rolling with a frightening clatter across the
floor and under the shelving. Pitch blackness closed in on her, pressed into
her skin from all sides, and stole the breath from her lungs. When something
touched her arm, she dragged in a gulp of air and screamed as long and as loud
as she could. The high-pitched sound of terror went on for an eternity.

Chapter Seven

The shouting of her name brought
Kerry back to her senses. Myghal had somehow managed to get her out of the shed
because she had space around her and she had air to breathe. She stopped
screaming, although by that time the sound she was making was little more than
a hoarse squawk. Her legs gave way and her body crumpled. She didn’t lose
consciousness, but it was as if every muscle in her body turned to jelly.

Myghal scooped her up and carried
her into the greenhouse. He put her down in the chair at her desk, the one
where he’d done such wonderful things to her body that afternoon. Sex seemed to
be the last thing on his mind as he hovered over her, his face a frowning mask
of worry.

She reached out and stroked a
lock of his long, ash blond hair. “I’m all right now,” she said. The words
burned her throat, and she reached for the bottle of water she’d left on the
desk at lunch.

Myghal
got it for her, uncapped it and put it to her lips. She drank the few swallows
that remained. He set the empty bottle aside and picked up his, letting her
drink from it. She swallowed greedily, but wondered what he would think of her
when she told him about her irrational fears.

It
mattered a great deal—maybe too much, considering how short a time they’d known
each other—what Myghal thought about her.

“Are
you hurt?” he asked, his voice thick with concern. “Do you need something? More
water? Should I find a healer?”

She
shook her head, happy to be able to breathe normally. She should have known
better than to go into that dark shed alone with only a feeble penlight to
relieve the crushing blackness.

“I’m
fine now,” she assured him and sat up straight. Her muscles and bones no longer
felt as unstable as gelatin.

“Are
you sure?” Myghal held her hands in his. His touch was comforting. “Was someone
out there?”

She
shook her head again. “It’s my own fault. I have claustrophobia. If I’m in a
dark, enclosed place, I panic.”

She stopped, waiting for him to
laugh or look relieved that it was nothing more serious or drop her hands as if
she were a silly person wasting his time. Different people had done all those
things and more over the years. But Myghal didn’t laugh, look relieved, or drop
her hands. He waited patiently for her to continue.

“I
shouldn’t have gone into the shed knowing the bulb was blown.”

“Why
did you go in there?”

She grinned awkwardly. “I heard a
noise that sounded like a kitten. I thought I could just open the door and the
kitten would run out. When that didn’t happen, I thought I could quickly go in,
get the kitten, and get out before—before I panicked.”

He squeezed her hands. “You
didn’t see or hear anything else?”

“Not
really, but the door slammed shut by itself. It’s never done that before. The
door isn’t hung square on the frame, so if left alone it’ll slowly swing open,
not shut.” She thought a moment. “And right before I started screaming, I heard
a scuffling sound and felt something touch my arm.”

“It
sounds like someone was in the shed.” Myghal gave her hands another squeeze
then he stood. “I’m going out there and look around.”

“No,
you don’t have to do that,” she protested.

“If
someone was in there to hurt you, you need to call your guardsmen.” He started
toward the door.

“Wait,
Myghal. You’ll need a flashlight.” Testing her legs before she stood up because
she felt as shaky as she had when he’d brought her to orgasm earlier in the
day, she found she could stand and walk. With Myghal following, she went to the
supply shelf over the sink and got the heavy-duty flashlight.

He took
it, but she had to show him how to turn it on and off.

“I’ll
be back soon,” he said and kissed her as naturally as if they’d known each
other forever and were madly in love.

She
followed him to the door.

“Be careful,” she called, locking
the door behind him.

Kerry watched him hurry along the
path to the toolshed and go inside. He left the door open and it stayed open.
An ice water chill raced along her spine. Someone had been in the shed with
her. She hoped whoever it was had gone and Myghal would be safe.

And what of Myghal? He was a
stranger to her, yet she had allowed him to touch her intimately and was now
depending upon his help. What if it was a scam? What if Myghal was working with
someone else, the person who had been in the shed? To gain her confidence,
Myghal was playing the gorgeous hunk protecting her from the bad man who was
threatening her. But what could they possibly want? She had no money and had
made that clear to Myghal…but he was still here.

Kerry had a feeling it was much more
complicated than a scam and that Myghal was more than a con man looking to
score—the way he was dressed but with no interest in the contest, he’d said
healer instead of doctor and guardsmen instead of police, and he didn’t know
how to operate something as simple as a flashlight.

Who was he and where was he from?

*
* * * *

Against
the better judgment of a tiny voice in the back of her mind warning her not to,
Kerry took Myghal home with her. On the way there, she wondered a thousand
times if she was doing the right thing. After all, a good-looking guy in a bad
Leprechaun costume could easily be a serial killer. Weren’t most serial killers
handsome and charming? After all, who would trust an ugly fiend who actually
looked
like a murderer?

But what else could she do? She
still owed the guy a hand-job.

She’d asked him where his car
was. He’d said he didn’t have one. She’d asked him where he lived, but he’d
said he’d just arrived today and didn’t have a place to stay. She could have
interrogated him further, but she was simply afraid of what he might say,
afraid his story would be too fantastic to believe.

Kerry went through the
drive-through window of a fast food joint to get something for supper. He
stared at the blinking lights and neon signs as if he’d never seen anything
like them before. When she asked him what he wanted, he said he’d have the same
thing she was having. He didn’t offer to pay.

At home, while they ate at her
small dining table, Kerry decided she might as well tell him the whole story.
She had been pleased when he didn’t ask what caused her claustrophobia. He
seemed to accept it as part of her. Everybody else always asked why, and that
was when she clammed up and shrugged if off, saying she’d always been that way.
But it wasn’t true.

She swallowed
a bite of burger and cleared her throat.

“I
dated this guy in high school. I was a freshman and he was a senior. He was the
bad boy type, always getting into trouble, but I thought that made him more
attractive. He had a temper, too. I didn’t really know how bad it was until one
day he thought I was flirting with another guy.”

Kerry
sucked up a big mouthful of chocolate shake, letting the creaminess melt in her
mouth. Myghal didn’t say anything, just watched her while he chewed on a french
fry.

“Anyway,
we were out at the old gravel pit. That’s where we all hung out because the pit
wasn’t being used anymore. There were a couple of old dilapidated sheds where
we stashed beer and stuff. He accused me of making a fool of him with this
other boy and smacked me around—”

“He
struck you?” Myghal’s eyes blazed in anger, and his hands clenched into fists.

Kerry nodded. “Yeah, it was the
first time—and the last. After he slapped me a few times, he shoved me in one
of the sheds and left me there. The shock of him hitting me was almost enough
to send me over the edge, but it was just after sundown and it was so dark. I
screamed until my throat was raw and I couldn’t make another sound. Then I just
curled up into a ball in the middle of the floor. I didn’t sleep, I just lay
there all night with my eyes shut tight. It was mid-morning before anyone found
me. Everyone was out looking for me, and a friend thought to check at the pit.
My boyfriend said he’d only meant to leave me out there a couple of hours to
teach me a lesson, but he’d gone off with his buddies, got drunk and forgot all
about me.”

Kerry crumpled up her wrappers
and sucked the last of her shake.

“I
never saw the guy again. He left town and I heard later that he’d gone to
prison for a few years. Didn’t surprise me. But ever since then I can’t be in
dark, confined places without screaming or curling up in a corner. Sometimes
this house isn’t big enough.”

Myghal
looked thoughtful. “Thank you for telling me, Kerry. I’m sorry you were treated
so badly.”

“Me, too.
It only happened that once. I steer clear of bad boy types now. You never know
what they’ll do.”

Of course, Kerry thought as they
cleared off the table together, Myghal looked like a medieval bad boy with that
long blond hair laced with tiny braids, the boots, leggings, and tunic. He
didn’t act tough, though. She squirted dishwashing liquid under the rush of
water in the sink to wash up the few dishes she’d left from the night before.
He was thoughtful and kind, and had seen to her pleasure before his own.

That
reminded her…she owed him one.

Chapter Eight

When Kerry had washed the dishes
and Myghal had rinsed them and set them to air dry, she turned to face him. She
licked her lips and noticed his warm gaze on the action. She had done it as a
stalling tactic because she didn’t know what to say or how to begin.

If she didn’t do something, the
moment would be lost and she’d have to start all over later. She reached for
his tunic and pulled the material up until the waistband of his leggings was
exposed. The bulge was huge behind the criss-cross lacings, and Kerry felt
guilty she’d waited so long to do this. He must have been uncomfortable all
afternoon by the size of his hard-on. Slowly, she undid the tie and pulled the
lace through the eyelets until the material parted and his cock was free.

Kerry dipped her hands in the
dishwater again. Fingers dripping hot sudsy water, she wrapped both hands
around his rigid length. Myghal groaned at her hot, slippery caress, and he
thrust his hips into her grip, his cock sliding back and forth with ease. His
hands went to her shoulders to hold them both steady

Remembering what he’d done to her
at lunch and imagining what he must be feeling now stirred Kerry’s blood. As
her clit thrummed and desire coiled in her womb, she wished she could lead him
by the cock into her bed and let him drive that hard shaft into her. But she’d
promised to return the favor of a hand-job.