First Magic by Raven Steele (classic fiction .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Raven Steele
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Christian led me out with an expression that was anything but friendly.
“Sorry about my dad,” he said, once we were out of earshot.
“What did he mean by ‘It never is my fault’?” I asked.
“Who knows? My father is pretty bitter toward all women, so it was probably some kind of derogatory comment.”
“Why doesn’t he like women?”
“He just thinks they’re the cause of all his problems.”
“It doesn’t look like he has many problems to me,” I mumbled, glancing around at all the fancy artwork.
“Looks can be deceiving.” Christian opened a door and showed me into a room. “This is the guest bedroom. There’s a bathroom over there and in the closet is a bunch of girl clothes. You should find something that fits you.”
“Why do you have a bunch of girl clothes if your dad doesn’t like women?”
“Oh, he loves women when the mood fits him, which is entirely too often in my opinion. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”
After the door closed, I quickly ducked into the bathroom. The last thing I wanted was to stay in this house any longer than I had to. I had a distinct impression Christian’s father highly disapproved of me, and not just because I was a woman.
It took me longer than I thought to scrub the streak of spray paint off of my face, and by the time I was done, my face sported a big red welt. I frowned. It was a slight improvement from the paint. At least the swelling in my lip had gone down.
After showering, I opened the bedroom closet and gasped. It was bigger than my room at home. I moved among the designer clothing trying not to touch anything unless I thought it looked my size.
A few minutes later, I found the least dressy outfit: a blue empire style shirt with a black satin sash that tied below my breasts. I also found a pair of black slacks that were a little too big. A skinny belt hanging from a hook made it possible to keep the pants around my waist. I combed my hair and then searched the bathroom for a rubber band but came up empty. You’d think a room dedicated to women would contain a rubber band, a hair clip, or something.
Because my shoes were still wet, and no other shoes fit, I left the room barefoot. I didn’t make a sound as my bare feet padded across the carpeted floor. Up ahead, raised voices echoed from the office. I was about to let my sensitive hearing eavesdrop on their conversation, but jumped when I heard a loud thumping sound from inside, along with Christian’s dad saying, “That is enough!”
The door flew open. I darted back into the bedroom before whoever was coming out saw me. As I shut the door, I heard Christian say, “Just because you did things a certain way, doesn’t make it right.” He slammed the door behind him. I waited several minutes before I dared venture out again. When I peered back into the hallway, everything was quiet.
I moved quietly, careful to avoid the closed office doors, but I inadvertently ran into a picture that jut out further than I had anticipated. It made a scraping sound against the wall.
In the next beat of my heart, the door flew open, and I was standing inches from Christian’s father.
“Hello, sir,” I said, avoiding direct eye contact.
He stared at me for a moment before he said, “Christian’s probably downstairs.”
“Um, thank you.” I hurried past him, but he stopped me. “Tell your uncle hello."
I turned around. “My uncle, Sir?”
"Didn’t you know he works for me? At Bodian Dynamics.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He’s a good worker. It’s hard to find men like him. Mark taught him well.”
I visibly jerked at the mention of my father’s name. “You knew my father?
Christian’s dad stepped into the hallway. I noticed he was limping on his left leg. “I did, a long time ago.”
“How did you know him?”
“We went to school together.”
“In Vegas?”
“No. It was a private school in Washington.”
Now I was really surprised. “I didn’t know my dad lived there.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly tired. “We had our differences, your father and I, but I always respected him. I was real sorry to hear about his death. I always told him he was too careless.”
“Careless? He was killed by a drunk driver.”
He stared at me for what seemed like a very long time. “You have a nice night, Llona.” He turned around and walked back into his office closing the door behind him.
That’s it? Who says something like that and then walks away? I had half a notion to storm in there and give him a piece of my mind.
“Llona?”
Christian stood at the top of the stairs. Sadness bled from his eyes.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s getting late. I should probably take you home.”
I followed him down the stairs. “Actually, could I ask for one more favor since it’s on the way?”
“Name it.”
“My car is back in the high school parking lot but it’s got a flat tire. Would you mind helping me change it?”
“So that’s why Matt took you home.” He stopped and turned around on the stairs. “How did it go flat?”
I shrugged. “I probably drove over a nail or something.”
He pursed his lips, thinking, then continued to descend the stairs. Over his shoulder, he said, “Sorry about my dad. Sometimes he talks too much.”
I stopped him at the bottom of the stairs and spun him around. “I don’t care how your dad is. It’s you I want to hang out with, not your father.”
“Are you saying you trust me now?”
I took his hand and smiled. “With my life.”
He stared down at our joined hands, the knot in his throat bobbing up and down. His mouth parted open, releasing the gentle hiss of a breath. “Llona…”
My name on his lips was a plea for something more. I moved closer to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, close enough that when I inhaled, my breasts brushed his chest.
He reached up and slid his palm along my jaw line and to the back of my neck, his eyes roaming over every inch of my face. “You are so beautiful.”
The sincerity in his voice, the longing tone, made my skin buzz with want. I wanted to feel his touch, his lips, every part of him against my flesh. This desire flooded through me and overwhelmed my senses, awakening even my Light. It raced through my veins and spread to my muscles.
I was just about to lift up on my toes to satisfy my cravings with a kiss, when he stepped to the side of me and avoided my eyes. “We should go.”
Imaginary water doused my fire.
It took me a few seconds to follow after him. On our way to the school, tension and silence polluted the air. In an attempt to break it, I said, “You never told me Jake works for your dad.”
His brows drew together. “Really? I didn’t know.”
“Truly?”
“Why would I? He owns so many different companies, he probably employs half of Wildemoor’s population.” He pulled into the school’s parking lot and parked next to my car. It was the only one left in the lot.
“Thanks again. For everything,” I said. “And for helping me with my tire.”
He nodded but avoided looking at me again. “Anytime. I’ll get my jack, you grab your spare. It’s probably in the trunk.”
He jumped out of the car before I could respond. I sighed and opened my door. I rounded the back of my car but stopped abruptly.
A cool autumn breeze blew through the loose cotton of my shirt; its breath gave me pause. Not because it chilled me, but because it was laced with an odd smell. The odor reminded me of a leaky, rusty pipe in an old basement.
Instinctively, I glanced down. My tail pipe looked normal, but what was sprayed beneath it wasn’t. Someone must have broken a bottle of Merlot. My foot partially rested on the crimson splatter. As I moved forward, my foot sticking slightly, I came in view of the carnage scattered along side my car.
I didn’t immediately process what I saw, or didn’t want to, and instead found myself staring into the night sky. The dull stars seemed to be swimming in a sea of black. Lost. Disoriented. I stepped back and inhaled a deep breath.
Christian said something to me from the back of his car, but I couldn’t decipher
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