Love Potion #9 (5 page)

It had certainly impacted Mitch's.

Until just now.

He hadn't had a chance. Mitch was unable to shake the sense that he had just stepped into one of his buddy Kurt's frequently recounted - and seldom believed, at least by Mitch - amorous adventures.

He couldn't exactly remember how things went from here.

“Wow,” the lady purred. “You
were
worth waiting for.”

She had an accent as exotic as her looks. Something European, maybe French or Italian. Her voice was low, just the sound of it making Mitch shiver in anticipation.

She sighed with obvious pleasure and ran her fingertips across his shoulder. Mitch slanted a glance her way, instinctively bracing himself for a reality check.

But she was smiling. At him.

Mitch stared as his first impression was vehemently reinforced. The lady was a stunner. Dark hair and creamy skin, thick lashes and lips almost as curvy as the rest of her. She was more unabashedly feminine than any woman he had ever seen before.

And her presence was so tranquil. She simply watched him study her, apparently not in a rush to go anywhere or say anything. Mitch had the definite sense that she'd be perfectly content to lay together here all day.

A hint of a smile curved her lips and something in those eyes made Mitch's blood quicken. Her eyes were dark, dark brown, so dark that he couldn't discern where the iris ended and the pupil began. They were remarkable eyes, even more remarkable than the rest of her, which was really saying something.

If the eyes were the windows to the soul, this woman's eyes would open a portal into whole other universe. One of secrets, wisdom, and things a man might not really want to know.

Before Mitch could wonder how that kind of whimsy had make its way into the relentless logic he usually followed, she tapped a finger in the middle of his chest.

A twinkle glimmered in the depths of her eyes. “I told you I'd make coming back worth your while,” she murmured, her seductive tone making Mitch's heart pound again.

Mitch's good sense chose that moment to return with a vengeance. His eyes widened as he did the math. He had just had sex with a complete stranger!

Was he out of his ever-loving mind?

He was a journalist! He wrote articles about STD's, he compounded stats about unsafe sex, he had done a series on AIDS. And he, as matter of personal principle, had never
ever
been casual about intimacy!

Mitch was on his feet in a flash, his hands shaking as he fought against his unruly zipper.

She was still watching him, that bemused smile clinging to her ripe lips. Mitch couldn't even think straight, but he tried to talk his way through it.

“Look, I don't know what just happened here, but...”

The woman rolled to one hip and laughed unexpectedly. Her dark wavy hair cascaded over her shoulder, her dress gaped open to reveal the luscious curve of her breasts. She was so at ease with her sensuality, in marked contrast to how uptight Janice had been, that Mitch had to fight his urge to have a good look.

“Whatever it was,” she said, a thread of humor in her voice, “it was very, very good.”

Her admiration was so open that Mitch felt the back of his neck heat. What was protocol here? A life without casual sex had left Mitch without a script, never mind a marriage with a woman who hated being touched. This woman's cheerful enjoyment was as puzzling as the situation itself.

Should Mitch apologize? Should he thank her? Should he try to explain?

Explain
what
, exactly? Mitch didn't like being at a loss for words, but none popped into his mind to save him.

The woman stretched with leisurely satisfaction, then rolled to her feet. Her red floral dress fluttered around her shapely calves, the bodice draped open as though inviting Mitch to take a look at those creamy breasts.

She treated Mitch to a sultry smile as she flicked back her impossibly long hair, then she took a step closer. Those eyes smoldered and Mitch knew he was not nearly as immune to the lady as he would have liked to have been.

This was crazy. He knew nothing about her.

He was a father, Mitch reminded himself when she sidled closer and his heart began to pound. He was a responsible man. He was a journalist.

He was an
adult
.

“Was it worth your while?” she asked softly and Mitch felt a telltale response in his shorts.

This was not how things should be proceeding! Mitch frowned and tried to look suitably forbidding. He had to steer their conversation back to some rational course.

But the woman wasn't paying any attention to his best glower. Mitch stiffened as her fingertips trailed along the neck of his t-shirt. He fought to keep his mind out of the gutter and his gaze out of her cleavage.

It wasn't easy.

And the way she leaned against him to kiss his throat wasn't helping. “Maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom,” she whispered, her words heating Mitch's very blood.

Wait a minute! Mitch cleared his throat deliberately. What he had to do was get to the root of the story.

Right! He'd ask the questions. Familiar ground, to be sure. He summoned his best reporter voice. “When exactly did you tell me that you'd make it worth my while?”

The lady chuckled, her breasts pressed against his chest as she backed Mitch into the door. Mitch's nostrils flooded with the scent of that wondrous perfume, his hands itched to close around her slender waist.

He stared at the ceiling and knew he was in big trouble.

“Well, I never told you directly,” she admitted. “But it was in the spell I cast to summon you.” She winked when he looked at her in astonishment, those fingertips sliding up his neck and into his hair. “You
must
have heard me.”

A little bit too late, Mitch understood her words and remembered his neighbor's stock in trade. “What spell?” he managed to ask

“The spell that brought you here.” The woman chuckled under her breath. “I'm a witch now. I guess you didn't know.” Her manner was easy, as though she was confiding something mundane, like a fondness for chocolate. It made it even harder for Mitch to make sense of what she was saying. “I make spells, read fortunes, all of that stuff.” The tip of her tongue slid into Mitch's ear and he closed his eyes against a tidal wave of desire. “Right now, though, I'd rather make love.”

Mitch grasped her upper arms, put as much space between them as he could, and seized on her claim. He was more than ready to set the record straight. “No, you see, you've got it all wrong. No spell summoned me. I just came to find out about your sign...”

But her hearty laugh startled him into silence. “Sebastian! We've known each other long enough that we don't need to play games.”

Mitch stared at her as his blood turned to ice.

Sebastian? Why did she call him Sebastian?

Because, obviously, she thought he was someone else! Suddenly the enthusiasm of her welcome made a whole lot more sense. Mitch had just made one hell of a mistake. She was going to slap him when she learned the truth.

Or worse.

He straightened, frowned, and cleared his throat. “I'm sorry, but I'm not Sebastian,” he admitted. The woman blinked, her surprise obvious. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

She said nothing at all.

As awkward moments went, this was a biggie. “Uh, Mitch Davison. Your new neighbor to the left.” He released her shoulders and stuck out his hand, but she just stared at it and frowned.

And no wonder. She had just mistaken him for some other guy and ravished him as a result. No wonder she looked so stunned - she must be really embarrassed.

Well, she couldn't be any more embarrassed than Mitch was. He cleared his throat and wished he were anywhere else on the face of the earth.

Or that the floor would yawn open and swallow him whole.

No luck on either front, so Mitch shoved one hand through his hair and unlocked the deadbolt behind his back with the other. He took a deep breath. “Look, I'm sorry we got our wires crossed here. We've certainly gotten off to a rocky start and I can only apologize for my part in this.”

The lady stared at him as though she didn't understand what he was saying. This conversation had died and was well beyond revival. Mitch tried for his most charming smile, without any noticeable result in her response.

Oh, he was batting a thousand here.

“Maybe it would be best if we just forgot this ever happened,” he managed to suggest.

Then, her slender hand snapped out and abruptly gripped his chin. Mitch froze in surprise at the strength of her grip. Her perusal was so thorough, her gaze so cat-bright, that the hair on the back of Mitch's neck started to stand on end.

He had just concluded that things were definitely a little weird on this side of the property line, when the lady went one better.

“No,” she concluded, the word barely more than a breath. It fanned against his lips and made Mitch's toes tingle again. “You
are
Sebastian. There's no doubt about it.”

“No,” Mitch said firmly. “I'm not.”

“Yes,” the lady said equally firmly. “You are.”

Enough was enough. Mitch tried very hard to be polite. “I think,” he said with surgical precision, “that I would know if I was this Sebastian person.”

The lady's full lips quirked and she lifted one brow, her expression unexpectedly mischievous. “Really?”

Mitch frowned. “Really.”

She obviously bit back a smile, as though he had said something particularly funny. Her response pushed Mitch too far. He had had quite enough of whatever flavor of bizarre was being served here.

It was bad enough that he had acted on impulse, it was bad enough that he hadn't been able to control himself, never mind that she was consistently driving his desire toward the sky again. There was something about the flick of her glance, the quirk of her smile, the low whisper of her voice that gave Mitch half a mind to accept her offer, to pretend that he was this Sebastian, and accept the lady's invitation to the bedroom.

That in and of itself was so out of character that Mitch could barely wrap his mind around his undeniable urge.

It was too much for her to turn him inside out
and
insist that he didn't even know who he was.

Mitch propped his hands on his hips and glared at the woman who was consistently tying his gut in knots. “Look, I don't know what your deal is or why you think I'm this Sebastian guy, but trust me, I
know
who I am!” His mood worsened when she still looked like she was going to laugh. “Look! I don't even know anybody named Sebastian!”

The lady folded her arms across her chest and regarded him. Her eyes danced. “You're very sure of yourself,” she commented.

“And that's a surprising accomplishment? To be sure of my own name?” Mitch rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Thank you very much.”

She laughed aloud, the merry sound almost enough to dismiss Mitch's mood.

“You're welcome,” she said, completely unrepentant, then tossed her hair. It wasn't quite fair that she kept smiling like that, that she kept looking so damn delighted to have him here in her foyer. Now, she smiled warmly at him. “But then, you always were so confident.”

“Were?” Mitch echoed. “I've told you that I'm not who you think I am. And we've never met before...”

The lady interrupted his argument. “So, Mr. Mitch Davison, why do you believe that you've come here?”

“Believe? I
know
why I've come here!” Mitch declared with exasperation. She won the award for infuriating, no doubt about it. “There's no question of believing or misleading myself.” He jabbed a finger through the air towards his new house. “I just moved in next door!”

She shrugged easily. “Because you were summoned. I called you just a few hours ago.”

Mitch's usual skepticism finally found firm ground. “Look, no spell of yours brought me here. I bought that house months ago! And it wasn't because anyone summoned me - it was because it was what I could afford!”

There was a galling little confession he would have preferred not to have made.

But the lady seemed delighted by this news.

“You bought it
months
ago? Really?” Her smile flashed briefly again and Mitch was confused to feel himself respond to her obvious pleasure. “So, you
were
already on your way! That's wonderful!” She clasped his jaw in her hands and kissed him so quickly that Mitch didn't have time to step away.

He stared down at her, hearing his heartbeat thunder in his ears. She must be a nut. There was no other possible explanation for her behavior.

Because Mitch knew that there was no such thing as witches, and certainly no such thing as spells that actually worked.

“I guess I didn't have enough faith, after all these years,” she confessed with glowing eyes. “I'm so sorry I underestimated you.”

Mitch pushed a hand through his hair, not quite certain where to start in untangling this woman's misconceptions. “Look. I don't actually know you,” he said firmly but gently. To his relief, she didn't interrupt. “I can't apologize enough for my behavior - it was wrong.”

“It was perfectly right,” she breathed, then smiled again. “And that's why you couldn't stop yourself.” She nestled closer and clasped his neck, stretching to kiss him again.

But Mitch evaded her touch as he frowned anew, disliking an intuitive sense that she had hit the nail on the head. “It can't have been right,” he argued carefully. “Because I've never met you before in my life.”

Her calm confidence didn't waver, much to Mitch's dismay. She arched one dark brow, as though amused by his protest. “Which particular life do you mean?”