Hot Spell

“Sounds exciting.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I guess compared to having fifty one-night stands already this year, my life doesn’t sound that great, but I don’t really care what you think.”

“Fifty?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why, Miss LaGrange, I had no idea you were keeping track for me.”

Her face now blazed with heat. “I’m not.”

“I don’t think it’s fifty yet. Low-forties, maybe.” He grinned. “Then again, we’re only halfway through the year, aren’t we?”

Great, she was amusing him. That hadn’t exactly been her goal. What was her goal, again? She wanted to go to the allegedly haunted house, assess it for the presence of supernatural activity and get the hell out of there. None of which had anything to do with Jacob or his sexual conquests. She should have simply refused the assignment. Patrick would have found somebody else. The property owner could have waited a day or two with no harm done as long as she stayed out of the house.

“When you leave, who’s going to keep count of the bevy of beautiful women I apparently have at my beck and call?” Jacob continued. “I’ll have to buy one of those click-counter devices.” He was silent for a blissful moment. “Maybe you’re looking for a boring commitment from David, but that’s never been what I’ve been looking for.”

“I’m sure your ex-fiancée would be interested to hear that,” she said evenly.

His expression froze. “What did you say?”

“Your ex-fiancée,” Amanda repeated. “Before you met her you were not the ladies’ man you are now. During your three-year relationship you were completely monogamous. It’s only after she left that you’ve become this macho, no-need-for-commitment Lothario.”

She’d thrown out her knowledge of his past as a diversion to move away from her own issues and it looked as though it had worked, although not exactly in the way she’d intended. Even in the darkness of the car’s interior she could tell that his face had paled at the mention of his ex.

When a new member of PARA was being recruited, extensive research was done on individuals who exhibited psychic abilities. Jacob had been pegged as a potential candidate and his life thoroughly investigated to make sure he had no ties to crime or other dark and nefarious forces. Amanda had handled the paperwork. If she had a choice, working within the agency was her preferred gig, rather than field assignments that forced her to tap into her hated abilities. That’s how she knew that he’d had a broken engagement before moving to Mystic Ridge to take the job. She also knew the cause of the break-up was that his fiancée had been unfaithful to him.

She’d always assumed that, based on his lifestyle, it hadn’t bothered him, but from his current expression she had to reassess that opinion. The breakup had been a bad one for him and it obviously still hurt. The pain in his eyes made her immediately regret saying anything at all.

Her stomach twisted in automatic sympathy for his pain. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories for you.”

“My personal life is none of your damn business.” The words were spoken softly but there was a sharp edge of anger behind them.

“Nor is mine yours,” she said simply, fighting the feeling of guilt she now had.

“Understood.”

Their eyes met and held.

The sound of a horn a few seconds later, loud and ear-shattering, made her jump, and a quick glance out of the windshield revealed a large set of oncoming headlights. She screamed and Jacob clamped down on the steering wheel to lurch the car away from the middle of the road. The transport truck that had nearly crashed into them continued to honk its horn as if to remind them how very close they’d come to a head-on collision. Jacob pulled off the road onto the side, his chest moving in and out. Amanda’s heart slammed against her rib cage.

Then she realized that Jacob had put his hand on her thigh in a protective motion. His firm touch seared through her jeans and into her skin. If he slid his hand up only a few more inches…

She swallowed hard and her heart began to beat even faster than before.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded shakily. “Are you?”

The scent of his aftershave filled her senses; the rush of almost crashing, almost dying, the feel of his hand on her thigh made things low in her body ache with a dark and dangerous need she wasn’t used to. His hand tightened on her leg, moving a fraction toward her inner thigh. He looked down at where he was touching her as if surprised she wasn’t slapping his hand away from such intimate contact.

There was no way he couldn’t see her nipples now pressing against the thin fabric of her cashmere sweater. As if he again read her thoughts, his gaze moved to her chest and he began to stroke her thigh with his thumb. It was all she could do to stop herself from arching against his touch and begging him to kiss her.

Then, suddenly, he released her. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. “I need to keep my eyes on the road. That’s never happened before. I must be tired.”

“It’s fine,” she managed.

He pulled the car back onto the road. “We’re almost there, anyhow. Like you said, twenty minutes to check it out, and then we can leave.”

“Good.”

She pressed back into the seat and studied the road ahead, her body still tingling where Jacob had touched her.

3

IT WAS obvious to him now, after nearly slamming head-on into a transport truck. His continuing attraction to Amanda was going to kill him.

Literally.

It was a good thing they’d never been partnered before. He’d probably already be dead. The raging hard-on he was currently dealing with alone might kill him.

Jacob shook his head, silently chastising himself. Amanda had her own life. She was moving three hundred miles away and good riddance to her. He much preferred to be fully in charge of his emotions, and, for that matter, his cock.

He did find it more than a little interesting that she seemed to have taken an interest in his sex life. Fifty one-night stands? That was one hell of an overestimation. When he needed to let some steam off he rarely had any problems finding somebody willing to help him out, but fifty?

Hell, most nights he stayed home with a six-pack of Bud and the Playboy channel. Sad but true, lately it gave him almost as much satisfaction as the real thing. He’d definitely hit a slump. Two years since his big break-up and move to Mystic Ridge and he hadn’t found a single woman that interested him enough to see more than once.

Obviously the fault was with him. He knew it. He just wasn’t quite ready to deal with that yet.

“We’re here,” he said after what seemed like an eternity of silence between them. It had really only been a half hour since the brush with death…and the distracting contact with Amanda’s jeans-clad thigh.

He pulled into the driveway of the house set on a large lot. The house itself looked to be at least a hundred years old and the drive was flanked by thick oak trees that would have made the area dark even at noon.

Another car—a silver Volkswagen Jetta—idled in front of them and as soon as they pulled up a small woman with curly red hair, lit by Jacob’s headlights, stepped out of it. She beckoned them to join her.

“Guess we’re on the clock already,” Jacob said.

“Then let’s get it over with,” Amanda replied curtly. She quickly gathered her paperwork together, opened the passenger-side door, and got out.

Let’s get it over with. For some reason the phrase amused him. Was that how she might view a hot night of sex with her true love, David K. Smith?

“Let’s get it over with, honey.”

Sounded about right.

Pushing any thoughts of Amanda and sex out of his head, Jacob got out of the car to join his partner-of-the-moment in front of the irate-looking woman.

“I’ve been waiting for an hour already,” she snapped.

Jacob tensed at the shrill, impatient tone. He was about to open his mouth to say something, probably along the lines of “Chill out, lady, we’re here now,” when Amanda beat him to the punch.

“We apologize for any inconvenience, Mrs. Davis—”