Spellbound (8 page)

Belle looked up at him and couldn’t help grinning at the mischievous expression on his face. ‘Absolutely.’

They towelled themselves dry, keen to get back into bed as fast as possible. Belle stopped only to run a comb through her wet strands and then couldn’t resist quickly cleaning her teeth. Nick saw and reached out a finger for some toothpaste, giving her quick grin as he rubbed the toothpaste around his mouth.

Back in bed, Belle hoped that this might be the way the rest of the weekend panned out. Sex, sleep, shower. Sex, sleep, shower. To keep their strength up they might have to fit in eating somewhere there – and yet again Belle wished she had Aunt Gertrude’s skill in food-summoning charms – but she was sure between her and Nick they could turn eating into something pretty special too.

‘Come here,’ Nick growled, climbing onto the bed and reaching for her. His cock seemed fully recovered and was already pointing towards her in visual reinforcement of his words.

They knelt on the bed, face to face, and for a moment Nick simply gazed at her. Belle couldn’t read his expression, wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but then he lowered his mouth to hers and her eyes drifted closed in expectation of his kiss.

She’d expected passion – a thrusting tongue and a forceful taking – but it was exactly the opposite: sweet, tender, gentle. His lips touched hers, caressing her mouth, seducing her all over again, even though she was already his.

Belle was reminded of the kiss from her phantom Nick, the way her ghostly lover had nibbled her lips and made her swoon. She pushed the thoughts away, focusing only on
real
Nick’s mouth,
real
Nick’s skin under her fingertips.

Real Nick clearly wasn’t about to give her any time to recover from her orgasm in the shower. He laid her back on the bed and, cupping a breast with one hand, lowered his mouth and began nibbling and sucking on the nipple. Instantly, Belle was at a fever pitch, feeling the answering slickness between her legs.

Nick pulled back, staring up at her face. His fingers probed between her legs, searching out her entrance before plunging deep inside.

Belle groaned and thrust her hips against the intrusion, grinding her pelvis into his hand.

‘Belle, I can’t wait any longer. I have to be inside you,’ came Nick’s strained whisper.

Still amazed that she could be so aroused just minutes after the bone-shattering orgasm in the shower, Belle could only whimper her assent. Yes, Nick inside her. That would be good.

He twisted around in the bed. ‘I only had one condom on me. Do you keep them . . .’

Condoms?
Belle tried to think. She knew there were at least a couple lying around somewhere. Assuming they were still within their use-by date. But where? Maybe her purse? Maybe the bathroom? Probably not in the bedside table, she thought as she heard the drawer slide open as Nick hunted around.

The drawer.

Something tickled in the back of her mind.

Belle struggled against her post-orgasmic stupor to work out why a sudden uneasiness had descended, why there was something about the bedside table drawer that Nick shouldn’t —

‘Belle, what’s this?’

Nick pulled away from her and sat up in the bed. His hands were clutching a silver photo frame, his face creased in a frown.

Belle’s stomach dropped as if she were plummeting from a mountaintop through thin air. Her mental fog cleared and she clutched the sheet to her naked chest as she sat up to face Nick. Nausea and anxiety threatened to swamp her.

Nick’s face clouded over with something that looked like pain and his throbbing penis wilted. He gasped, and the photo frame fell from his hand to land on the bed with a small bounce.

His legs curled up and his fists rose to his head.

‘The crystal,’ he ground out through clenched teeth, his eyes screwing shut as he rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

‘Nick? Are you okay?’ she asked, touching his arm in concern.

He sucked in a noisy breath and pressed his hand tighter to his head. ‘Find the crystal, Belle.’ His voice was ragged.

‘What’s wrong?’ Why did he need the crystal? Sure, it meant he could talk to her while she was holding it, but that didn’t seem to have been a problem for the last little while. Still, the pain in Nick’s eyes was enough to make her take action and leave her questions for now. She searched around and finally located the green ball at the foot of the bed. Gripping it tight, she held it to her chest as her heart pounded like it wanted to escape from her body.

Slowly the pain faded from Nick’s face, and when he opened his eyes he looked at her with a clouded gaze.

‘It hurts now, when the crystal’s not with you,’ he said, disbelief clear in his voice ‘Before it was just awful feelings. Now it’s physical pain.’

‘A spell?’ Belle asked.

‘It’s ridiculous,’ he muttered. ‘But I don’t know what else it could be. At first I thought someone had cast a spell on you.’ He wasn’t looking at her – his gaze was on the photo frame lying on the bed. ‘But now I wonder if the spell is on me.’

‘But it goes away when I hold the crystal.’

‘Yeah.’ It was almost as if he were talking to himself. ‘But sometimes you don’t need the crystal. I mean, in the shower just then, it was fine. Maybe it builds up the longer you’re not holding it?’ He finally raised his gaze to her, eyebrows arched in puzzlement, then shook his head in disbelief. ‘That
hurt
. It hurt a little before, but not like that. Mostly it just stopped me from talking to you. Or from coming to visit you. I’ve been trying to do that for months.’

Belle frowned. ‘It didn’t stop you from talking to me completely. We’ve spoken in the lift, said hello.’

‘Yeah, I could say some things, but I couldn’t ask you out or give you a compliment. Except for last Saturday.’

‘Last Saturday?’ Belle had tried hard to block that day from her mind, but she knew she’d talked to Nick in the lift when she’d gone out for sage. ‘In the lift?’ she asked.

‘Not so much there, but in your apartment, later, when we kissed. You didn’t have the crystal then. At least, I didn’t see it.’

‘When we kissed?’ Belle echoed faintly. Her head began to swim with the implications of what Nick had just said.

Oh Goddess, no.

Belle slowly pieced the facts together. She’d made a phantom, but as per usual, she’d screwed up the spell and he’d been invisible and unmoving – her phantom had been the witless automaton that Aunt Gertrude had revealed in the living room the following morning. It was Nick, the
real
Nick who’d come to her door.
Real Nick
who’d flirted with her, kissed her, rolled on the floor with her. The phantom had stood invisible in the corner and watched them. Belle’s face flamed, but the phantom wasn’t the reason.

‘Yes, when we kissed.’ He gave her a searching look. ‘Belle? I can’t believe I’m actually going to ask this. Are
you
a witch?’

Belle paused. Magical folk swore an oath not to reveal themselves to outsiders. It simply wouldn’t do to have most of the human population know that magic really existed. It was better that magic stayed hidden, in the hands of those who knew how to wield and control its power. Some people strayed close to the line, people like Aunt Gertrude, who passed herself off as a psychic. But her clients didn’t realise that Gertrude deliberately put false information into every reading she did – being one hundred percent accurate would cause all kinds of problems. Others, like Belle, kept their magic inclinations secret, and in fact led exceptionally normal lives.

Except Belle’s life didn’t seem so normal right now.

If she hadn’t done that wretched phantom lover spell!

Nick sat there, still waiting for her answer. If her family or the magic Council found out that she’d revealed herself to a human who wasn’t bound to her in marriage – witches were allowed to reveal their true nature to their spouses – Belle could be in big trouble. But would it be any more trouble than if she lied to Nick and he walked out? She couldn’t bear that.

She took a deep breath and decided to risk it all. ‘Nick, I come from a family of witches. So yes, officially speaking, I am a witch. But I don’t really do any magic at all, because . . . well . . . I’m not very good at it.’

He looked at her and Belle could read the disgust in his expression.

It took a moment before he spoke. ‘Then let me ask one other question. Why did you have a photo of me in your drawer?’ He picked up the frame and held it between his thumb and forefinger distastefully.

Belle swallowed hard. She’d almost forgotten about that. ‘Uh . . .’ Belle waited for the words to come, some rational, logical explanation that would make this all go away, but nothing came out.

‘This is from my apartment,’ he said flatly.

Belle nodded mutely.

‘You’re a witch, and you have my photo. And it seems very much like someone has cast a spell on me. Tell me, Belle, what I am supposed to think?’

Belle’s mouth dropped open in shock. ‘I didn’t! I wouldn’t . . . How could you . . .’ she sputtered before falling silent. How could she defend herself? She had broken into his apartment and stolen his photo with the intention of creating a replica of him to satisfy her sexual urges. It was awful. He didn’t know the full story, but he had every right to be disgusted with her.

‘How could I think you cast a spell on me?’ Nick asked. He answered his own question with a resigned shake of his head. ‘Belle, my will is not a toy. I won’t be played.’ Without saying anything further he climbed out of bed and began pulling on his clothes.

‘Please, Nick; I swear I didn’t cast a spell on you!’ Belle pleaded. He held up a silencing hand and she sunk back against the pillows in defeat. How could she defend the indefensible?

Once he was dressed he let out a heavy sigh and sat on the edge of the bed. He gave her a sad, confused look. ‘Belle, I don’t know what’s going on. I think it’s best if I take some time to try to figure things out.’

‘But Nick . . .’ She trailed off, not sure what to say.

‘It’s a lot to take in. I’m not sure I even believe in witchcraft, let alone all this talk of being under a spell. But please, do me a favour. Keep that crystal close.’ He rubbed his thumb across his forehead again as if remembering the ache.

Belle nodded, not trusting her voice if she spoke.

The look he gave her as he left was full of disappointment and confusion. When Belle heard her apartment door close quietly behind him, she felt a pang in her heart. But before she could give in to her grief, she had to do something about the crystal. If nothing else, she couldn’t bear to cause him more pain.

Belle searched about her apartment until she found her antique sewing basket. She pulled out some old satin ribbon and began winding and knotting it around the green orb. She kept winding until the crystal was securely encased in a satin cage, and then she tied the long ends of the ribbon around her neck. The crystal sat between her breasts, its weight cool and solid. There. At least now she’d be in no danger of losing it.

As to what next to do, Belle was at a loss.

She climbed back into the bed that still smelled of Nick and sex and a future she’d thought for a fleeting moment might be hers.

She’d messed everything up. Just like usual. She really was as hopeless as Tony had always said.

Belle spent the day in bed and slouching around her apartment, listless and upset, unable to concentrate or settle down to anything except to listen to the rain spatter on the windows. She didn’t know what to do with herself, didn’t know how to salvage things with Nick. In the late afternoon she decided to take a walk, irritated and frustrated by her own company.

Two blocks from her apartment building she reached Aunt Gertrude’s shop. The bright neon signs
Tarot, Palm Reading, Psychic, Medium
scattered slashes of pink and orange and purple onto the puddles on the pavement.

Belle wondered about going to see her godmother. She’d never asked for romantic advice before and wasn’t sure if she wanted to start now. But this spell – or whatever it was – that seemed to be affecting Nick . . . She needed to get to the bottom of it.

Pausing at the shop door, Belle was racked with indecision. Finally, she walked away. She couldn’t face sitting in front of Aunt Gertrude and explaining what had happened. Not without trying to figure it out for herself.

She walked and walked, paying no attention to her body or her surroundings, even when she reached the point of exhaustion. On one particularly steep street a cyclist passed by, still pedalling but moving only as fast as Belle was able to walk.

‘This hill is hard work. I don’t know how you do that,’ she said to him, shaking her head.

The cyclist – young, cute and with calves the size of tree branches – gave her quick grin. ‘It’s all in the mind,’ he said, and at that put on a burst of speed and peeled away from Belle, quickly disappearing over the peak of the hill.

‘Yeah, right,’ Belle muttered. She’d bet that no matter how much she believed she could ride a bike up a hill, her unfit legs and body would get in the way.

The crystal was suddenly cold against her skin. No, not
suddenly
. It didn’t seem to ever warm up, but for some reason Belle was very aware of its cool weight between her breasts.

Why had Aunt Gertrude given it to her?

Her shoulders sagged as she reached the top of the hill and she realised she had absolutely no idea where she was.

More importantly, why had the universe given her Nick, her very dream come true, only to take him away from her?

A stab of anger went though her.
It wasn’t fair
. She’d suffered through her relationship with Tony, thinking it was the right thing to do – that seeing it through, trying to please him, was the way a relationship worked. Along the way she forgot that a relationship should make
her
happy too. Tony was clever and manipulative enough to make her think it was all her fault; that their relationship failed because she wasn’t good enough, she didn’t try hard enough.

Not to mention that Tony had been less than spectacular between the sheets.

From that perspective, sleeping with Nick had been a revelation.

Tony had
never
made her feel that way. And Tony had never responded to her touches the way Nick did. Maybe she wasn’t as hopeless in bed as Tony made her think she was. Maybe the real Belle
was
the sexy, interesting person she felt she could be when Nick was around.

She’d been like that before.

Before Tony.

Yes.

The thoughts powered her, and her steps sped up as her mind raced.

Her job – she was very good at that. And she had lots of friends. She always had a great time with them – except for when they went out to bars to pick up men. Her birthday last month had been fancy dress – she’d worn a ball gown she’d borrowed and gone as Cinderella – and the room had been filled with people, family and friends, all there to help her celebrate.

And even though she wasn’t a very good witch, her mother and father loved her fiercely and seemed perfectly fine about the fact that they couldn’t boast about her achievements at the academy. In fact, they liked to boast about her job, about how she earned money in the human world, without the use of magic – enough to buy an expensive apartment and travel the world.

Belle walked faster, her mind consumed with thoughts. The details of her surroundings blurred. The only outside sensation to penetrate was the strange heat that seemed to be growing between her breasts. Was it her imagination? The crystal actually seemed to be warming against her skin. It wasn’t surprising, given that she was all sweaty and hot.

Now that Belle thought about it, her life was pretty good. The kind of life that a man should want to be part of. Be
proud
to be part of. Damn it, she was successful, and sexy, and not too bad looking, and a downright nice person! She gave money to charity, was a good friend, had plenty of interests and was smart enough to hold a decent conversation – but not so smart as she wasn’t prepared to learn from others. She was a
catch
, Goddess-dammit! A man would be lucky to have her!

A man like Nick.

She sighed.

Why couldn’t she have him? Belle couldn’t think of a single good reason – apart from his utter distaste about her magical tendencies. Oh, and the fact that he thought she was a thief who’d cast a spell on him. But she could tell him she’d renounce witchcraft. She didn’t know if there was a way to do that, but if there was, she’d do it – for him. She just had to find the confidence to go after him again. All that was getting in the way was her own negative attitude about herself and this damn spell.

‘Ouch!’

Belle stopped suddenly and scrabbled inside her T-shirt. The crystal had definitely begun to warm, but within seconds it was hot to the point of burning. She grabbed at the ribbon and lifted the rock out of her top, away from her skin.

She held it up to the light, peering at it through the satin ribbon binding. It was still green, but something inside it was glowing. Something silvery and glittering. Belle touched a fingertip to it and then pulled away fast.

‘Hot,’ she muttered around the burnt finger she shoved into her mouth. ‘Really hot.’

Why? And if this crystal had the ability to cause or prevent Nick from experiencing pain, what did that mean? A deep sense of worry grew in Belle’s stomach. She had to make sure he was okay.

Belle half-ran, half-walked until she found a main road, pacing up and down until she managed to hail a cab. She sat in the back seat fidgeting until the taxi reached her apartment building and then, not willing to wait for the slow old lift, took the stairs two at a time until she was standing, breathing heavily, at Nick’s door. She knocked furiously, not letting up until Nick stood there, staring at her through the open door.

Relief washed over Belle at the visible reassurance that Nick seemed to be perfectly all right. He took her breath away, as per usual, but this time Belle pushed all that aside.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked, puffing hard from her exertions.

‘I’m fine,’ he answered, before frowning at her. ‘Are
you
okay?’

‘I could use a glass of water,’ Belle admitted.

‘Come in then.’ Nick stood back and waved her into his apartment. Belle refused to think about the last time she’d been there, although she did guiltily glance at the bookshelf and notice the photo frame was back where she’d found it.

He poured her a glass of water and handed it to her before leaning one hip against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms. ‘Why are you here, Belle? I thought we were going to take a little time out to think.’

His voice was cool, but Belle refused to let it get to her. She knew that she wanted Nick,
deserved
Nick, and she wasn’t going to let him get away. If he didn’t want her, she’d find a way to accept that and move on, but it wasn’t going to happen without a fight.

‘Look at this,’ she said, holding up the crystal. The silvery glitter inside the orb had grown strong enough to cast a gleam through the kitchen.

Nick’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move. ‘That’s . . . shiny.’

‘Yes. And hot.’ She poked gingerly at it and yes, it was just as scalding as before. ‘I got concerned,’ Belle explained. ‘I wasn’t sure if it was hurting you, if the change in colour meant it was causing you pain or something, if . . .’ Belle trailed off.

Nick’s expression softened and he gave her a small smile. ‘It’s not hurting me,’ he said quietly.

‘No, I can see that.’ Belle shifted on her feet awkwardly – she’d rushed here, sure that something terrible was happening, and now that everything seemed fine she was confused, and embarrassed that she’d overreacted.

‘When did it happen?’ Nick asked, his forehead creasing. Belle could just about see the cogs of his rational mind churning over the problem. ‘And do you know why?’

Belle shrugged. ‘I was just out for a walk.’

‘Just out for a walk?’ Nick mused. He pulled away from where he was leaning against the counter and stepped into the living room. Belle followed, and they both took a seat. He leaned forwards, elbows on knees, hands clasped under his chin. ‘Go through the details. Tell me exactly what happened. Maybe there’s a clue in there somewhere.’

Belle doubted it, but she sat down anyway, keeping the burning silvery orb well away from herself. ‘Um . . .’ She cast her mind back, trying to recapture the events. ‘I went for a walk. I didn’t have any destination in mind, I was just walking.’

‘Did you see anyone? Talk to anyone?’

Belle almost told him about her near visit to Aunt Gertrude, but that would involve a whole
other
lot of explaining, so she decided to skip it. ‘No, I didn’t talk to . . . Oh, there was the cyclist.’

‘And?’ Nick prompted.

‘It was a really steep hill. I hate steep inclines, especially when I’m driving because I’m sure my brakes are going to fail, so I don’t know what I was doing walking up there, it’s insane —’

‘Is this important, Belle?’ Nick interrupted.

‘Uh, no, sorry. Okay. This cyclist was pedalling up the hill and I said I thought he was mad, or words to that effect, and he said it was all in the mind, you know, sports psychobabble.’

‘Right.’ Nick sat back and his frown deepened. ‘What else?’

‘Nothing else. I just kept walking and then a few minutes later the crystal started getting hot and when I pulled it out to look at it, it was glowing, like this.’ She held the object under discussion up against the light and they both stared at it for a while.

‘Did anything else happen before the crystal changed, Belle? Think hard.’

Belle imagined the street, trying to recall if anything out of the ordinary had happened. But she couldn’t think of anything, nobody else even passed her. ‘No, nothing. I was just walking and thinking and that was it.’

Nick arched an eyebrow. ‘Thinking? What were you thinking about?’

Belle could feel her cheeks heat with a blush. Could she admit to it out loud? Hesitantly, she began. ‘I was thinking that my life was really pretty good, all things considered. That even though I don’t have a boyfriend, I have a pretty good life. And I deserve that life – I work hard, I’m good to my friends and my family. And . . . I’m okay. Not perfect, but maybe better than all the criticisms that seem to be on endless repeat in my head. I was thinking, maybe, a guy – someone like you – would, well, be lucky to have me,’ she muttered, unable to look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Nick raised one eyebrow. His expression hovered between puzzled and concerned, and it took a moment before he spoke. ‘Ah.’

His ambiguous response made Belle’s heart drop. Had she been kidding herself? No. She’d finally come out from behind the curtain that Tony seemed to have pulled over her. Her life was good. With Nick it would be
perfect
, but how many people these days got perfect?

The crystal seemed to pulse with light now, almost bright enough to cast a shadow.

Nick shook his head slowly. ‘I still don’t know what it all means.’ He gave her a searching look. ‘Do you have any ideas? Anything magical? Anything I wouldn’t think of as an . . . ordinary human?’

You’re anything but ordinary
, Belle wanted to say. She bit back the words. ‘Nothing I can think of.’

They sat in silence for a while. Nick stared determinedly at the coffee table between them, and Belle wished she could find the right words, find a way to explain to Nick that she was terribly sorry for breaking into his apartment – she knew it was wrong – but she’d never place him under a spell and undermine his free will in that way. On top of that, she was still so remorseful about creating the phantom lover in Nick’s image that she couldn’t bring herself to muster an effective defence that Nick might even begin to believe. She
felt
guilty all the way down to her toes.

‘I’ll go,’ she said eventually.

He didn’t look up, just nodded. ‘I think that’d be best.’

‘Nick, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, doing her best to hold back emotion. She fled his apartment and raced up the stairs to her own, slamming the door behind her just as the well of tears spilled over and her breath broke into sobs.