Something Spooky (6 page)

Ellie couldn’t tear her eyes away from Patrick. She daren’t. He was poised to strike like a snake. Deep in his eyes she saw her image, like a trapped mouse. The image trembled as he took a deep steadying breath. He closed his eyes as if in torment, releasing her,

‘Ellie?’ A small hand tugged at her sleeve with some urgency. ‘There’s water coming in under the door.’

Patrick’s eyes snapped open, his face assumed its usual sardonic expression. Insight told Ellie he wore it as a defence. ‘You seem to be flooding the house.’

Patrick?’ She gently touched his arm, wished she could do something to help him come to terms with his anger.

He shrugged away from her touch. ‘I’ll cook dinner. Go and do something about the flood before we all drown.’

 Damn the man! 
Wasn’t there any softness in him at all?  Turning her back on him she scurried into the laundry and surveyed the mess. This was all she needed - a blocked sink. She switched off the machine and placed a towel across the doorway to prevent any more water seeping through. Opening the cupboard where her aunt kept the tools she selected what she needed.

Ten minutes later she’d cleared a wad of paper from the U bend, and was just about to tighten the stopper when Patrick’s face appeared in her line of vision.

‘You should have asked me to do that.’

Why should she - because he was a man? Did he think because she was female she was helpless?  Starting to simmer again she picked up the hammer and whacked at the lever she’d placed across the stopper. Immediately her temper improved.

‘It’s done, thank you.’

‘You’ve forgotten to replace the washer.’

A dictionary of swear words flashed through her mind. Snatching the washer from his outstretched hand she clamped her teeth together in frustration and banged the lever in the other direction.
‘Damn!’
she muttered. ‘I’ve cross threaded the thing.’  Why was she all fingers and thumbs when Patrick was around? 

Patrick slid under the sink beside her. The sink was set in an extra large cupboard, but Patrick’s presence turned them into instant sardines.

‘What are you doing?’ The frosty glance she gave him was negated when her nose collided with the tip of his and he laughed. ‘What was so funny about that?’ She made a conscious effort not to laugh herself. ‘Stop stirring me. Get out of my cupboard this instant.’

‘You’re crazy, Eloise.’ 

His open smile sent her heart leaping into her throat. Nice straight teeth with hardly a filling in sight.
What are you, Ellie?
she asked herself.
A dentist?  Concentrate of the fact that he’s actually smiling.

She suddenly remembered a song about crocodiles she sang to the kids at the child-minding center.  Perhaps Patrick intended to bite her. She returned his smile anyway. She couldn’t help it.

‘I was sane until I met you.’
A drip of water landed on her face and he removed it with his finger.

‘It’s not often I drive a woman insane.’
 

He wouldn’t have to try very hard. Although he didn’t seem aware of it, Patrick’s sex appeal was becoming very obvious to her. It wasn’t what he
did
exactly, just the way he was.

A dynamic force seemed to surround him. It was mental, not the physical energy she’d noticed before. Closing her eyes she felt it penetrate her, and drew on its strength. Aunt Vera would have described it as his aura. She preferred to call it vibes.

‘What star sign are you?’ she asked out of curiosity.

‘Scorpio.’

She’d read that it was the most sensual sign of the zodiac. Ellie wondered what he’d be like as a lover. Hadn’t she read that a Scorpio male’s ego wouldn’t allow him to leave his partner unsatisfied?  Passion and dominance was characteristic of his sign. So was
deviousness.

When she flicked her eyes open she found Patrick observing her. Of course he was. Patrick was facing her, where else would he look?  She was reading more into the relationship than there was.
What relationship?
   Dryness attacked her lips and her tongue automatically moistened them. Her hormones were running amok if she imagined Patrick found her attractive. They shared a mutual dislike of each other. Tearing her eyes away from his she reached for the stopper. ‘Stubborn brute,’ she muttered when it wouldn’t budge.

‘Let me.’  His hand circled hers, applied a small amount of pressure. The stopper twisted free. A tiny trickle of water splattered her face. Keeping the stopper enclosed in their cupped hands he slipped the washer over the end and helped her screw it back in.  The joint operation was smoothly performed as if it were one person, one hand.

‘Thanks.’  Surprised he hadn’t put on some display of male superiority she forgot to remove her hand. Carrying it to his lips he kissed the palm. An erotic little quiver stroked up the inside of her arm and lodged in the bend of her elbow.

‘My pleasure.’

She wouldn’t have picked Patrick for being a flirt. ‘If you find fixing the plumbing a pleasure, it’s
you
who’s crazy.’ She’d like to coat his sensual mouth with honey and lick it all off. Hell! Where had that thought come from?

‘Being in your cupboard with you is the pleasure.’ His dark silky lashes lowered a fraction. ‘I’d still like to kiss that crumpled bit.’

Ditto! Their minds seemed to be running along the same lines at the moment. It was better than fighting. ‘Go ahead whilst you have me at a disadvantage.’ Ellie knew she’d have to watch herself if her tongue kept releasing her inner thoughts. Earlier in the day they’d bordered on pornography.

His hand had already cupped her chin in the limited space. The gentle pressure of his fingers molded her lips into a perfect kissable shape.

The sigh of resignation she gave when his mouth captured his prize turned into a sigh of complete and utter ecstasy. The tip of his tongue painted her lips with nectar, then tenderly suggested the possibility of further exploration.

She allowed him access before the insidious little voice in her head advised her against it. She didn’t like half measures. Either one
did
or one
didn’t.
Half a kiss was worse than useless, would leave her wondering. Better to experience it all at once, and then it was done with.

Acting on her own advice she stopped thinking and started experiencing. Sensation followed sensation. Starting from her mouth a glow crept down to the column of her neck than outwards to each breast. Stopping only to pulse each center into fullness it gathered momentum and fanned down her body in one fiery flash.

Sensuality was something Ellie acknowledged in herself, but the riot he provoked in her was unprecedented. Had their bodies not been effectively separated by the cold metal U bend she’d have succumbed to the temptation to slide her pelvis against its natural mate.

Suction against her lower lip told her he’d reached the object of his desire. He turned it into a sweet red cherry as he took it in his mouth. As kisses go this one was sublime. Tingles spread down her limbs and her toes curled upwards. Patrick topped it off with a restrained bite that made her groan with its promise of passion.

A touch of coolness on her sensitized mouth reminded her the kiss was over. Regretfully she opened her eyes.

‘That was really something.’

The low sexy murmur of his voice was music to her ears. Perhaps the spell had worked after all. If she was going to make him suffer she might as well start right now.  ‘If one kiss has given you ideas you can forget it right now. I don’t indulge in casual affairs.’

The words thrown mockingly in his face couldn’t have been a more effective dampener. Patrick slid out from under the sink and stood up.

‘A man with any sense should keep you at arm’s length, Eloise.’

 The effect she’d had on him was obvious if the visible portion of his body was anything to go by. He only had himself to blame for the hard-on, she thought guiltily. His jean-clad legs and hips turned suddenly, his perfect backside headed for the door.

‘I’m going to get a shower,’ he muttered.

Sliding out from under the sink, Ellie made face as the door slammed behind him.

‘Obviously you haven’t got any sense, Patrick Morgan.’

There seemed to be no spell in the book to reverse the effects of the love potion, nor one for removing a jinx.

Ellie decided to put Patrick’s problem in the hands of fate. She’d once won some money of the Melbourne Cup using her tried and trusty method. She closed her eyes and flicked through the pages, stabbing her finger into a spot halfway through.

“Improving The Disposition.” That would do. ‘One teaspoon of oil of ginger, one of peppermint, one of lavender seeds,’ she muttered. ‘Add to boiling water, stir with a whisker of a cat. Stand overnight.’

It sounded simple. There was powdered ginger and peppermint essence in the larder, lavender seeds in a pomander in the dresser. A cat’s whisker …?Absently Ellie scratched Scruff’s chin. ‘You won’t mind donating a whisker in the quest for peace, will you Scruff?’

Scruff commandeered the chair she vacated and curled up in a fluffyball as she fetched the ingredients and dropped them into a mug.  Her nose wrinkled when she added the boiling water. It smelled vile. How on earth would she persuade Patrick to drink it?’

Deciding to figure it out in the morning she headed for the comatose Scruff. Her finger and thumb closed around one of his whiskers and she gave a gentle tug.

‘Anyone would think I was trying to murder you!’ Nursing the scratch on her hands Ellie glared at the shelf above the range. Scruff glared back at her. Ears flattened and tail lashing back and forth, his yellow eyes were malevolent.

Ellie picked up the pieces of the jug he’d knocked to the floor and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. ‘You were a sweet fluffy kitten once, now you’re a flaming tiger,’ she muttered, bestowing a frown on her adversary. ‘If it hadn’t been for me you’d still be in the cat’s home. There’s gratitude for you.’

‘What the devil’s going on in here?’ Patrick’s nose twitched. ‘And what’s that disgusting smell?’ Trust him to turn up at exactly the wrong moment

‘A ... it’s a sleeping draught,’ she lied. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

At least that much was true. And the reason she couldn’t sleep was standing right in front of her in a skimpy toweling shave coat, his hair all tousled up from contact with the pillow.

If Patrick hadn’t kissed her, she wouldn’t have spent the last three hours tossing and turning whilst her body tormented her with the fact that she was a woman without a mate.

‘I’m sorry you were woken up.’ Another lie, but she couldn’t very well tell him he’d deserved it. Opening her hands she exposed the shards of pottery and diverted the blame away from herself before depositing them in the bin. ‘Scruff knocked this off the shelf. That’s what woke you.’

‘I wasn’t asleep.’

Ellie’s eyes narrowed slightly as he subsided on to a chair. If Patrick couldn’t sleep here was the perfect opportunity. If she could get him to swallow the draught her troubles would be over. Did it really matter if it hadn’t been stirred with the whisker of a cat, or left overnight? Summoning up a friendly smile she indicated the cooling potion. ‘You can have some of that if you like.’

Suspicion came into his eyes. ‘It smells like boiled mothballs. You made it for yourself -
you
drink it.

* * * *

She should have known he’d be difficult. Feigning a yawn she sauntered casually towards the door. ‘I don’t think I need it. Actually, Patrick, I feel quite sleepy.’

The corner of her eye picked up the spell book lying open on the table. Momentarily she froze, then, heart banging like a drum, casually reached out for it.

‘Oh no you don’t, Eloise.’ Lightning fast, Patrick’s hand descended on hers and effectively immobilized it. ‘Let’s see what we have here.’

‘No!’
Realizing the futility of struggling against his superior strength, she relaxed. ‘It’s personal.’

‘You’re not kidding!’ 
The mockery in his eyes brought flaming colour to her face. ‘Who’s disposition are you trying to improve?’

‘Yours.’ Hating the chuckle he gave, and unable to hide her embarrassment, Ellie sighed. ‘You’re the most bad-tempered man I’ve ever met.’

‘And you want to turn me into a pussy cat.’

Automatically her glance flicked to Scruff. He was gazing at her through satisfied eyes and purring loudly, as if pleased with her predicament. Scruff and Patrick were two of a kind, but that could change. Ellie was grinning as she brought her eyes back to Patrick. ‘Actually, I have a mouse in mind at the moment.’

‘How long have you been a practising witch?’

‘Hah! What a ridiculous question.’

A grin plastered his face. ‘Tell me, green eyes, do you need a license to pilot a broomstick or can anyone do it?’

Just at the moment Ellie would have given anything to qualify for a pointed hat and a diploma in sorcery. She wouldn’t even mind the mandatory wart on the end of her nose.

‘Sometimes I
hate
you, Patrick Morgan.’ His hand had relaxed, but it tightened instantly when she tried to move away.

‘Keep still,’ he growled, flicking the book’s pages over. ‘I want to find out what else you’ve been up too.’

‘Please don’t.’ The conciliatory note in her voice made her squirm. ‘It was just a bit of fun.’

‘If you think those hives I got were fun you can think again.’

She held her breath when he reached the page with the love potion, then let it out when he moved past it. She was safe!

No, she wasn’t - he’d turned back to it
.

Ellie wished the ground would open and swallow her up when he smiled and shouted out,
‘Ah-hah!
Anyone would think he’d discovered penicillin by the triumph in his voice. ‘I didn’t realize you were mad about me.’

‘
Wrong,
Patrick.’ Palpitations attacked her when he turned wicked eyes her way and her voice began to wobble alarmingly. ‘Actually, I think I
detest
you.’