Finding the Magic (7 page)

The smile was gone but her eyes twinkled. “Okay.”

“Ah mean it.”

“Fine.”

Cam shook his head and walked away from her. He had work to do, maybe now that he knew Jayne was safe, he would be able to get on with it. He was on the stairs when Mary’s triumphant whisper reached his sensitive ears.

“Yes!”

When he stepped from his shower twenty minutes later, his mood was worse, rather than better. The coffee sat untouched on the bedside table where he had left it when his stomach had revolted at his first sip. His head was still pounding with the lingering effects of the tranquilizer, despite the pain reliever he had taken. He swiped a towel over his body in quick, angry strokes. A cold shower had done nothing to dampen his lust. A condition intensified by the fact that his housekeeper—
ex
-housekeeper—had put Jayne in the bedroom next door. He could feel her there.

She was unpacking. Relaxed and faintly excited, looking forward to exploring the house and grounds. Their connection wasn’t strong enough yet for him to catch more than the occasional thought or emotion, especially when his guard was up. But that didn’t prevent the flow of magic between them. It washed over him like waves over sand, wearing away his resistance. Taking a piece of his control with it every time it ebbed away. Cursing, he threw his towel into the laundry basket and dressed with quick efficiency in worn jeans and a sweatshirt. As he tied his damp hair back with a strip of leather, he felt a jolt of annoyance from Jayne. Abruptly, he remembered his addition to her luggage and cringed.

Endless moments passed before the expected knock on his door came.

“Come in.”

He braced himself but the woman who entered the room didn’t look angry. Instead she looked…happy. He frowned at her, confused by the mixture of happiness and sorrow she was broadcasting. She was close enough to touch and he balled his fists to prevent himself from doing just that. Her smile faded and she cleared her throat as though she too felt the building tension.

“Why did you put the paint box in my bag?”

“I don’t know, it was an impulse. I saw it under the bed and…” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, watching her warily. “You’re very talented, I wanted to see you paint.”

“Thank you, maybe you will.” She laughed softly. “Cameron, you can stop looking at me like I’m an unexploded bomb. I’m not angry.” She took a step closer and laid her hand on his arm and he felt the contact go through him like electricity. “Oh, I was annoyed at first. I haven’t painted in a long time. It was a part of me I put aside for reasons I’m not even sure of anymore. But things are different now,
I
’
m
different now. I suppose you are partly responsible for that, so thanks.”

She leaned forward and placed her lips on his. He froze, muscles trembling against instinct. He closed his eyes and felt the softness of her mouth and was surrounded by the light, vaguely floral scent of her perfume. It overlaid the unique scent that was Jayne, a scent he couldn’t have described if there was a gun to his head. A scent he knew he would recognize anywhere. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as it pumped the heady rush of his excitement through his body.

And then she was gone.

He opened his eyes and watched her walk out the door, aching to follow her.

Chapter Six

Fat snowflakes swirled and drifted down onto the wide lawn and coated the pine trees like icing sugar. Jayne sat in the
cozy
warmth of the kitchen conservatory and watched them fall from a sky heavy with clouds. As they had been falling more or less
nonstop
since the first morning she woke here. If it didn’t stop soon, she was going to have to brave the elements and go outside anyway. She was starting to get a bit stir-crazy. The house felt empty though she knew it wasn’t. Mary was in her private quarters at the far end of the building and she knew that the housekeeper would join her if she asked. She wasn’t going to ask though, because the woman deserved a little time to herself. She had been entertaining Jayne for the last two days.

They had spent part of the first day exploring Murray House. Cam had inherited it when his parents had died. Mary had reluctantly told her that his mother had died when he was fifteen and his father when he was sixteen. There had been both sadness and anger in her face and she wouldn’t say any more. Jayne didn’t press, she knew from personal experience that it was a sensitive subject. After that, Mary had avoided most questions about Cam, focusing instead on the history of the house.

It was enormous. Jayne had counted sixteen bedrooms on the first and second floors with rooms on the opposite side of the hallways set up as separate sitting rooms. She could see now that the kitchen was an addition to the back of the house. The original had been tucked away in the basement where there was now a bright fully equipped gym. Very fully equipped. The housekeeper had showed her a secure room behind the mirrors, complete with a computer connected to the house security system, a phone, weapons, a cot and enough food and water for a week. The fact that Cameron felt the need to have one spoke volumes about his life.

Mary had a suite on the ground floor in the left wing. The rest of the rooms down there were entertainment and living areas, including a large library that made her green with envy. The house was decorated in a strangely appealing mixture of modern, Victorian and Georgian styles. Even Jayne’s untrained eye picked out a multitude of antiques throughout. Here and there, the mermaid clan crest was repeated on fireplaces, furniture, china and other, smaller things. The motto “
Tout
Prest
” she had discovered meant “Always Ready” and from what she had seen so far, it was one the current laird lived up to.

It was clear that Cameron Murray was a very wealthy man, indeed. And a private one if the absence of staff was any indication. Didn’t he ever get bored? Jayne wasn’t exactly a social butterfly anymore but this much solitude would give her the screaming
meemies
in a very short time. She hoped, fervently, that they didn’t get snowed in.

The man of the house was in his office where he had spent most of his time since their conversation in the kitchen. He had better be working on finding out who the fake policemen were ‘cause she couldn’t stay here indefinitely. She suspected he was avoiding her. Lunchtime had come and gone and he hadn’t come down to eat. He had missed breakfast too. In fact, she hadn’t seen him at any of the mealtimes. She suppressed a twinge of worry, but he was a big boy, perfectly capable of looking after himself. He probably had a
minibar
complete with refrigerator and snacks up there. If he wanted to creep around and eat alone, who was she to argue?

He
was
lonely.

She knew it with a deep down certainty. She didn’t question the knowledge, she just felt it. The more time she spent near him, the more she felt she knew him. Somehow her feelings had slipped past lust and into something far less easy to define. Which was ridiculous, because they had hardly spent ten minutes in each other’s company since they arrived.

She had only caught brief glimpses of him as he went to and from his bedroom. There had been one particularly charged encounter on the stairs when he had been returning from the gym. He had been dressed in shorts and a T-shirt which clung to his broad chest and had a towel around his neck. His burnished hair was slicked back into a ponytail. It had obviously been a pretty intense workout, sweat had dampened the hair at his temples and the front of his shirt. She caught the clean, sharp smell of it and felt the heat radiate from his body as he stood on the step below her. For endless moments, he had stared at her with an almost predatory stillness. His nostrils flared and his chest expanded as he drew in a breath and shuddered. A battle seemed to be fought and won within his eyes and he had slipped silently past her and on up the stairs. Jayne had been left breathless and he hadn’t even touched her.

Mary talked about him very little, but when she did, it was with visible affection. As a child, he had apparently been a prankster. Playing tricks on the members of the household with annoying regularity. He had done things to and around priceless antiques which had made Jayne’s blood run cold.

Now, Jayne saw a man who loved his family and friends but rarely showed it. She still thought he could be rude…and arrogant, though. Had it only been his parents’ deaths that had changed him? Why was he going to such trouble to isolate himself? Every time she saw him, she saw a longing and desire in his eyes that made her want to go to him. Take him into her body and heart and keep him there. She sighed. Megan was right, she read far too many romances. Still, there was no denying the feelings. Hadn’t Megan told her the very same thing about how she felt about Jack? Megan had told her a lot before she decided to get all cryptic.

The hell with suspected. She
knew
Cameron was avoiding her. She also knew there were things he was keeping from her. Why exactly she was here, for instance, he had been a little too vague about that. So was Mary and let’s not forget Megan and Jack. They were all definitely hiding something.
Dammit
, why did everyone seem to be keeping secrets from her lately? It was beginning to get annoying. She was no fool and as impossible as it may seem she had a good idea what Jack’s secret was but was it Cam’s too? She thought about his big, muscular body, his—catlike?—grace of movement and the air of danger that surrounded him. That golden mane and the intensity of his amber gaze… She laughed. Or she could just be letting her imagination run away with her.

Jayne glanced back toward the hallway and smiled. She could always just ask him. “So…Cameron, do you spend part of your time as a cat?” That would certainly get a response from him. What’s the worst that could happen? He wouldn’t throw her out. For reasons known only to himself, he evidently felt responsible for her and felt she was in danger. He couldn’t really avoid her more and still keep an eye on her. Or—if she really let her imagination take over—he might say yes and suddenly start sprouting fangs and claws and fur.

Cool.

Boredom and curiosity are wonderful and terrifying things. With a grin, she rose from the table, left the snowy scene behind her and headed for Cam’s office before she could change her mind.

By the time she reached his closed door some of her boldness had seeped away but she gathered it back, knocked and walked into the large room. The curtains were open at the windows in front of her and the ones on either side, letting in the cold,
gray
light. A computer sat on a large curved desk in the middle of the floor. Cameron sat behind it, brows drawn down in a frown, as usual, while he toyed with a pen on the desktop. An empty glass sat beside him with traces of what looked like milk in it and beside that was a mug with black coffee gently steaming.

“Don’t you ever smile?” she blurted.

“Hardly ever. What do you want?”

She looked around, stalling for time, searching for the courage that had once again deserted her.

“Nice office.”

The walls were pale in
color
and the floor looked like polished oak. She had been right about the
minibar
. It stood against the left-hand wall. Two chairs and a small sofa in black leather were grouped in front of it around a glass-topped table. The right side of the room was taken up by more desk space, shelves and various storage units. Every surface was taken up by every conceivable office machine and gadget. It was clear that this was very much a workspace and the organized clutter all around told her it was used often. Cam watched her in silence, waiting in that unnerving way of his.
So
,
how do we go about this
?
Do I just blurt it out or do I try to ease my way into it
?
Right
.
How exactly do you ease into that particular subject
?
“
Shame about the weather
,
oh and by the way
…?” She snorted and Cam raised one eyebrow in query.

“Jayne? Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

“Yes. Yes, there is. I’ve been spending a lot of time the last couple of days on my own and, well, it’s given me time to think. I’ve been thinking about a conversation that Megan and I had a few months ago and I just wondered…” She walked up to the desk and leaned her hands on the polished surface, watching his face carefully.

“Are you a
shapeshifter
?”

The pen dropped from his fingers and he placed his hand over it, stilling its movement. Shock followed by anger flickered briefly over his handsome features before he quickly schooled them back into their usual impassive lines.

“What the hell are you
talkin
’ about? Are you off your bloody head, woman?”

“Nope. At least I don’t think so. So what about it, Cam, is that what you’re hiding from me?” She walked around the table to stand in front of him and noted the white-knuckled fist resting in his lap.

“
Dinnae
be daft, there’s no such thing. Who’s been
fillin
’ your head with this nonsense—Mary?”

“Now that’s interesting. That you should think it was Mary, I mean. I wonder what she would tell me if I asked her the same question.”

His gaze stayed steady on hers and there was suddenly a heat there that had nothing to do with anger. “She likes legends and fairytales and she’d tell you the same.”