Love Potions (3 page)

What was wrong with her today? Was three years with no man finally starting to take its toll? Wasn’t the libido supposed to shut off after a while?

She thought of Erik. He’d stared at her chest, and the thick interest jutting out against his pants had been unmistakable. Did she actually have a prospective one night stand? If he was to be her neighbor, then no. But if he was only looking and decided not to buy, then what harm was there in a small fling? She’d have to find a way around Fletch at the hotel. He’d tell everyone if he saw her going into a room.

“You feeling all right?” Charlotte asked. “First you looked pale, now you look flushed. Should I call Dr. West?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I might be coming down with something, but it’s not serious.”

“You’re never sick.” Charlotte reached to touch her forehead.

“Just tired, then. How are we on orders?” Lydia needed to change the subject. “Did you check the computer today?”

“Yep, did it while you were gone. I even got most of the orders packed up in the living room ready to go. The majority of it was just lotion, so no big deal. By the way, we need to make a batch of lavender rose.”

“I’ll do it tonight.” Lydia stood. “Why don’t you take off? It’s so pretty outside. No use in both of us being cooped up.”

“Actually,” Charlotte said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I was thinking of a little recon work.”

Lydia arched a brow. “You want to spy on Erik?”

“Erik, is it?” Charlotte smirked. Lydia instantly knew she’d messed up. “So, Mr. Scotsman has a name, does he?”

“Everyone has a name.” Lydia tried not to look flustered and failed.

Charlotte hooked Lydia’s arm and pulled her out the door. “Come on, walk with me. Let’s just have a peek at this man you say is only ‘all right’. If the town’s lucky he’ll be single and have lots of brothers. We’re in dire need of some fresh dating material.”

Chapter Two

Erik glanced around the dusty mansion’s front reception hall, not looking directly at the realtor. So far he was very impressed with the property. The old Gregorian style mansion sat high on a hill, overlooking the town below on one side and a long stretch of forest on the other. It was rare to find such a beautifully untouched location in America, though his family had lived in some wonderful places—Southern plantations, New York penthouses, even along an entire block in Philadelphia on the shores of the river—none really compared to those in the old country. There was a debate in the clan to move back to Scotland, but the truth was they were Americans now by legal paperwork and if the lot of them up and moved it would draw notice.

Foundation-wise the house was in excellent condition, even though it hadn’t been lived in for some time. It didn’t matter. A small spell and his uncles would have it as good as new.

“There’s about eighty acres total, including the forest and a small stream in the woods. If you’re an outdoorsman it’s perfect for hunting and fishing. About six acres are the old gardens in back. Several paths wind through the area. The gardens themselves are a little overgrown, but I’ve been told by the local nursery that many of the trees and shrubs are salvageable. The owner has asked me to extend their services, should you have a need of them.” Frank wanted the sale so bad he could hardly contain himself. Erik noted the man didn’t even have to look at the listing as he recited the property’s features.

“My brother, Iain, will see to all that,” Erik told him, smiling at the thought. Iain would no doubt insist they put in another golf course, along with a shinty field. All of his family enjoyed playing the games. Well, everyone but his brother, Euann.

New York living had become difficult. Yes, they could blend into the masses better and disappear into a crowd, but after two decades of concrete and metal, they needed to refuel. Their magick could only borrow so much power-infusing life from Central Park and rooftop gardens before they killed every plant in Manhattan.

It was more than the beauty of the outdoors that called him to Wisconsin. They needed nature to fuel their magick. Power had to come from some place and though sexual energy could give a rush, it wasn’t as steady and strong of a power source, not like borrowing from nature. Here the MacGregors could take from the forest as a whole rather than kill a single tree. They tried to live in peace with nature, which was why Iain was so conscious to plant trees.

Sometimes, though, magick didn’t always go as planned, and there had been times they’d taken out a giant section of forest while fighting a powerful foe. Ah, but such were the good old days. Now the biggest threat to the clan seemed to be the members in it. Mischievousness ran in the bloodline.

“Very good, sir. As I was saying, the house has over twenty thousand square feet total and there are well over sixty-five separate rooms. There are also some outbuildings, including an old coach house from the late eighteen hundreds that could easily be turned into a garage or stables. There is only one road access in or out. The entire hillside you saw on the way up also comes with the property—all but a small lot. It will ensure the utmost privacy, just like you requested.”

“What do ya mean, all but a small lot?” Erik broke in before the man could continue. He openly frowned, not happy to hear the latest glitch in his plans.

“The Victorian house you might have seen on the way up. It belongs to one of the locals. She’s a nice woman and shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

Erik’s frown deepened. So much for Green Vallis being perfect. He should’ve known not to get his hopes up. “So it isn’t a rental? I thought ya said this property was completely secluded from the rest of town. My family is very private.”

“A row of trees separates the two properties so you’ll hardly even know she’s there,” Frank assured him.

“Will she sell her property?” Erik ran his hands through his hair. Maybe the town wouldn’t be a complete loss. They could well afford it. Hell, given enough time, they’d probably end up owning half the town—like they did everywhere they went. “I suppose I could buy it as well.”

“Uh…”

Erik felt that the man considered lying to him. He turned around, giving him a hard look of warning.

“Uh, no, no I don’t think she will.” Frank admitted the truth after all. “But, she’s a nice lady. Owns her own business. Very quiet. Never causes trouble.”

Erik paused, tilting his head. “A business? What business?”

“Ah, you know, products for females. Lotions, bath soaps, candles, tea, that sort of thing.” Frank swallowed anxiously. “She does a lot of internet business. Very respectable. Not a trouble maker at all. I assure you, you will have no problems with her. I doubt you’ll even know she’s there.”

The man was nervous. However, excitement flooded Erik’s veins overtaking his disappointment, as he asked, “Love Potions?”

Frank’s mouth gaped open, as if he couldn’t believe Erik knew that.

“I make a point of researching everything about the towns I’m thinking about moving to,” Erik’s voice was hard, but as he turned his back, he let a small smile come over his face. So, Lydia’s house was just a few steps away, sharing the hill with this property. If he bought this house, it would be several weeks until the rest of the MacGregors joined him in full force. They’d wrap up their affairs and get the old house packed while he and a couple of his brothers got the new house ready.

He’d seen Lydia, how little and frail she appeared. Getting the mortal to sell her house shouldn’t be a problem—after he had plenty of time to seduce her first. What better way to ease the tension caused by the stress of moving? His arousal hadn’t gone down since meeting her, but the pressure had lessened. Just thinking of her being so accessible made his body stir anew. Holding up his hand so the realtor wouldn’t follow him, Erik said, “Ya wait right here. I’m going to look around.”

“But—” Frank began, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. Erik shot him a look and the man instantly stopped protesting. “Yes, sir, I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“Very well.” Erik decided to start at the top and work his way down. He climbed the long, wide tread, marble staircase. The craftsmanship of the woodwork was remarkable. It was the real deal—done in a time when people took pride in their trade. He threaded his fingers behind his back, not touching the dust on the old oak banister.

Erik was pleased to discover that some of the old furnishings were still in the home, covered by yellowed sheets. Many of them required small repairs, but were really a great find. With a little elbow grease and family magick, they’d be as good as new. The house was idyllic for what they needed with enough rooms upstairs for all of the MacGregors—Erik, his brothers and sister, their father, cousins, uncles and aunts. The whole clan could easily fit, each having their own private area. Those that chose to stay in the house would, anyway. The others could find places in town—close to the family, but away enough to be on their own. One thing was for sure. MacGregors always stuck together, from those early days in the barbaric Scottish countryside to today.

The first level was just as grand. As he walked by Frank, Erik again held up his hand, not saying a word. The man nodded and stepped back, letting him be. Erik was glad. Anything the man had to tell him he could see for himself.

The dining room was huge, perfect for large family meals together. There was space for the elders to practice their magick and still have a separate office to work out of. The vast MacGregor Empire only kept growing with each new property they acquired. It took all of them to keep the family business in order.

Beyond the offices, an entire back wing sprawled out with more bedrooms than he cared to count and plenty of space to build more bathrooms. After about an hour of poking around, he nodded to himself in satisfaction. This was it. This was their new home. He could well contain the situation with Lydia, and if worse came to worse, they’d cast a spell to get her to move. Women always seemed to respond unfavorably enough to a plague of spiders and roaches. The idea of muscling her out didn’t set well with him, but the needs of the clan had to come first and they’d give her a more than fair price for her trouble.

“I’ll take it,” Erik said, coming back into the reception hall where Frank waited. The man’s jaw fell open in surprise. The agape mouth seemed to be a favorite expression of his. Erik looked away. “I’ll take possession now. I expect the paperwork to be drawn up tonight, and I’ll be to your office first thing tomorrow to sign. The money will be wired to whichever account ya specify soon after. It will be paid all in cash, asking price minus ten thousand because ya didn’t tell me about the other resident on the hill. Unless that isn’t good for ya?”

“Ah, no, it’s fine. Thank you, sir.”

“And I’ll need a complete list of available properties in town, including any downtown apartments and business fronts for the rest of my family to look over. If they’re interested they’ll contact ya. I’ll need a street map of the Green Vallis, numbers for all the city departments, a list of all local businesses and their owners, an aerial view photograph of this property and the names and phone numbers of all our neighbors.” Erik held out his hand. It was a simple enough trick to get the realtor not to question his terms. Frank glanced at his palm, confused. “My keys.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course.” The stunned realtor fumbled with his pocket before producing the keys.

“Good day, Mr. Fenton,” Erik dismissed.

“Good day, sir,” Frank answered, hurrying out of the house as if he was afraid Erik might change his mind.

Erik chuckled when he was alone. Frank would probably become a rich man off the MacGregor family. They could well afford the extra ten thousand for the house, but this man needed to understand no shady half-facts would be accepted. If he misled or neglected to reveal part of a situation again, one of his cousins would start a realty business and put him under. If Frank played his cards right, by the time they were done setting up businesses and investing in the town, he could retire off the commissions he made. No doubt the man had never had such an easy sell.

As a warlock, Erik knew to trust his gut. His magick told him this was the place that had been calling to his clan. There was something powerful about it, unlike the other houses they’d lived in over the centuries. Just standing in the hall made him feel stronger, more powerful. He couldn’t ignore it. This was the place they were going to be living—at least until it was time to move on.

Erik walked out the front door, making a slight motion with his hand to lock it. He glanced around the long drive of the front yard. Green grass rolled over the property. It had been freshly cut—no doubt by Frank because of his coming. Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, he pressed redial.

“Erik?” the voice answered.

“Aye, it’s me, da,” Erik said in Gaelic. “This is the one.”

“You’re sure?” his father answered in the same language.

“Have I ever not been?”

“Don’t get smart with me,” his father answered. Erik grinned. “And wipe that look from your face.”

Erik obliged, not at all surprised by his father’s intuition. Angus MacGregor was a very powerful warlock. “My powers feel stronger here. Stronger than they’ve felt in a long time.”

A tingle worked its way over Erik’s body. Someone was watching him. Closing his eyes, he sniffed.

Mm, lavender and mint. Lydia.

“Da, I have to go.”

“Aye. I know,” his father answered. “I’ll tell the others ya found it. Good job, laddie.”

…

Lydia bit her lip, trying not to meet the accusation in Charlotte’s gaze as they hid behind a giant shrub. She tilted her head to the side, trying to see what she could of Erik through the dense leaves. Charlotte poked her hard in the side with her finger, forcing Lydia to finally pay attention.

“He. Is. Fucking. Hot,” Charlotte mouthed slowly, her eyes round with meaning.

Lydia nodded. What else could she do? Erik was sexier than anyone she’d ever seen before in her life. Considering him a second time didn’t do a thing to harm her first impression of him. If anything, it made the longing inside her worse.

She motioned for Charlotte to be quiet as she continued to look at him through the thick shrub. It was hard, but she finally managed to get a great view of his tight ass beneath the gray pants. His back was to them as he talked on the phone. She couldn’t make out his foreign words, but did detect the thick burr of his accent on the breeze.

“Damn, I would give anything to see that man naked,” Charlotte whispered. “How could you only say he was ‘all right’? Shit, hon, I’d love to see what you thought went into the ‘sexy as sin’ category.”

“Shh,” Lydia scolded. “I don’t want him to hear us.”

“Lydia Barratt.” Erik said. “I can’t see ya, love, but I know your there.”

Lydia froze. She made a motion to Charlotte to run seconds before she tried to herself. Charlotte giggled, grabbed Lydia’s arm and pulled. Lydia tumbled out from behind the shrub.

“There ya are.” Erik grinned, his eyes alighting with amusement as he looked at her on the ground.

“How’d you know I was here?” Lydia slowly picked herself up off the grass, doing her best not to make eye contact. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment.

“I know your smell. Lavender and mint.”

“Oh.” Embarrassment? Make that intense, flaming desire that flushed her face and made her whole body shake. Never had a man done this to her. And what exactly did he mean, he knew her smell?

His brow arched, incorrigibly sexy. “Spying on me?”

Say something incredibly smart. Don’t let him see you’re flustered.

“Ah, no,” Lydia denied weakly, brushing off her sleeves though they were clean. She’d never been a good liar.

Very suave, Lydia,
she thought dryly. Movement caught her eye, and she peeked through the sides of her lashes to see Charlotte wiggling her fingers, grinning like a fool as she stayed hidden.

“No?”

“I was looking for…ah…Frank. I saw his car. I wanted to talk to him about this estate. I didn’t realize he was showing it today or else I’d have called him.”