Wickedest Witch (9 page)

“You might as well drop the glam
or thing now before we run into any humans.” Because one touch from him and she’d turn into her true, much more desirable, self.

“I don’t want to,” she said stubbornly.

“Fine. Have it your way. When you touch me and the real you suddenly appears and freaks the humans out, you can go to the council and explain how your vanity was more important than the rules we all abide by.” The council punished severely those who did not follow their number one rule of, “Don’t let the humans know.”

Scowling, she muttered
, “Hate you.”

“Ah, you say the sweetest things. Now are you going to change
? We need to get going so we’re not late.”

Looking up and down the deserted sidewalk—not surprising given the yuppies who lived here with day jobs—she let her magical facade disappear and her sweet freckled, frowning self came into view.
Wearing hip-hugging black slacks, an off the shoulder silky thing that showed off a turquoise tank top underneath, and her riot of curls, she kicked his horny level up another notch.
Bloody hell, does she have to be so goddamned cute?
Even frowning, she tempted him. Here was to hoping he could handle the upcoming torture of her touching him. Ryker gestured for her to climb on the bike and seat herself behind him.

Eyeing his
motorcycle, she shook her head. “I can’t get on that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “Afraid?”

“No,” she retorted. “But I’m not exactly dressed for a motorcycle ride, and I am not wrecking my hair with a helmet.”

Wreck her hair? It didn’t even look like she’d brushed it. Why did she lie?
Why doesn’t she want to get on the bike behind me?
A musky scent wafted, surrounding him. He inhaled deep, savoring it.

Mmmm…
Smells yummy.

His little witch wanted him.
It wasn’t her hair or her outfit that kept her from climbing on the back.
She’s afraid to touch me.
If it weren’t for the worry she’d have an aneurism of rage, he’d have thumped his chest and accused of her of being chicken again. Actually, on second thought, that sounded like fun.

“I know why. You’re afraid if you press your body up against mine, you won’t be able to control yourself, and you’ll maul me. Don’t worry. I’m okay with that. Hell, if you want, I’ll unbuckle my pants for you now and give you something to hold onto.”

He didn’t know why he felt the need to render her speechless—or livid beyond belief—but damn, he enjoyed it.

“You are so conceited.
I don’t know why you persist in thinking you’re so irresistible.”

“Because I am. Why else would you not want to climb aboard? It’s not because you’re afraid of speed. You ride a broom. So that means you are scared of getting close to me
, proving me right. You want my body.”

“
Do not. Prepare to be wrong.” Glaring at him coldly, she swung her leg over the seat of the bike and, with no backrest behind her to hold onto, she wrapped her arms around his torso.

Oh hell yeah.
Ryker sucked in a breath and almost went cross-eyed with desire.
Mustn’t react. Mustn’t drag her from the bike and kiss her senseless. Mustn’t…

His beast roared in frustration, which didn’t help matters. The sensation of her pressing up against him, her scent of lingering arousal and flowers swirling around him in a heady mix made him wonder if perhaps he’d gone too far.
Fuck her not being to handle it. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to navigate when the only thing I want to drive is my cock between her thighs.

But drive he did, the cool
, brisk wind clearing his mind at least. His groin was a whole other problem. Through his side mirrors, he could see her, and what a picture she made with the wind making her cheeks bloom with color. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the way she kept gnawing her lip every time she found herself nuzzling his shoulder.

All too soon, they reached the restaurant. As soon as the bike stopped, his little witch hopped off the bike and in a blink of an eye
, managed to look cool and poised, that is if you ignored her wild hair.

Ryker got off the bike more slowly, willing his body to return to a more natural—AKA soft—state. His leather jacket thankfully came down part way and hid the semi
-bulge that had taken up permanent residence since he’d begun dreaming of her. No matter how many times he jerked off, as soon as he thought of or saw her, the erection came back.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he gave her a cocky grin. “Ready, my little
heksen
?” The Danish word for witch came suddenly to his lips as a term of endearment. “Oh and just so you’re forewarned, I kind of lied earlier. The ex-Mrs. Rumpelstiltskin isn’t exactly expecting us. I thought the element of surprise might work in our favor.” He expected her to harangue him over his small fib, but once again, she surprised and delighted him.

“Perfect. Let’s go ambush her then.” With a smile a shark would have found chilling,
Evangeline led the way into the restaurant with the bearing of a duchess. Holding in a chuckle of admiration, Ryker followed, eager to see her in action.

Evangeline unerringly threaded a path through the dining room, brushing off the
maître d’
with a glacial stare that had him backing away with his hands up.

T
humbs looped into his pockets, Ryker followed behind with a feral grin, one which made the patrons in the restaurant give him a wide berth and avoid eye contact.
Why be nice when you can have them fear you? It makes things
so
much easier in the long run.

Ryker recognized Rumpel
stiltskin’s ex from the picture he’d pulled up the previous night when researching her. Blonde and statuesque, she’d modeled for years before marrying Rumpelstiltskin and giving him the one thing he didn’t have—a child. Judging by the stones glittering at her lobes, neck, and fingers, it proved a lucrative move. Until she fucked it up.

Without introduction, Evangeline pulled out the seat opposite Heidi, whose ice queen, blonde looks be
spoke good old German stock. By all appearances, their employer had stuck to his ancient roots and married from his grandfather’s country of birth. Turning a seat backwards, Ryker straddled it, his spot placing him between the two ladies. A great position for him to sit back and watch his witch at work while remaining close enough to intervene in the unlikely case she needed help.

“Excuse me, but that seat is taken.”

“Yes, it is. How observant of you.”

“I meant that I was holding it for someone else. And that person isn’t you.”

“How rude. And here we haven’t even been properly introduced.”

“Who are you?” asked Heidi imperiously.

“I am your worst nightmare if you piss me off,” said Evangeline, crossing her legs and flicking at a piece of imaginary lint on her shirt.

“I think you should leave
.” The blonde raised her hand to signal a waiter.

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you
. Answer a few questions, honestly of course, and we’ll be gone before you know it.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you won’t like what comes next if you don’t.”

“You don’t frighten me.”

A low chuckle left his witch’s lips. “I should.” Evangeline leaned forward, putting herself in Heidi’s space. “But before we get to the reasons why, aren’t you curious as to why your ex-husband hired us?”

“You work for Rumpie?” Heidi lowered her hand and narrowed her eyes at them.

“I’m with Wicked Incorporated,” said Evangeline, sliding a business card across the table.

Heidi only gave the card a cursory glance. “
I have nothing to say. If Rumpie wants to talk, he knows the number for my lawyer.”

“Do you really want to get those barracudas involved? We both know your purse can’t handle that kind of expense.”

Heidi’s lips flattened and her expression turned ugly. “What exactly is it you’re after?”

“Rumor is you want
your daughter back and are planning to snatch her at a wedding.” Evangeline spoke bluntly as she pretended to examine her nails, but Ryker saw through her nonchalant ploy. She’d hoped to catch Heidi off guard. However, he’d wager good money Heidi’s surprise was genuine.

“
Kidnap that spoiled brat? What the hell would I do that for? He wanted her in the divorce, he got her.”

“That’s kind of a cold attitude,” interjected Ryker. “She is your daughter after all.”

Arctic blue eyes turned to look at him, their perusal of his body and the interest that suddenly glinted in them not lost on him, or on his witch, apparently. She stiffened in her seat and her scent suddenly radiated annoyance. Or was the more accurate term jealousy?

“Listen, I might have birthed the girl, but that was the closest we ever were. Rumpie doted on that child from day one and had no use for me after her
arrival. His attitude rubbed off on the girl, and she treated me like a piece of furniture—beneath her notice at that. Now let me ask you, why on earth would I want to have her back?”

“More money?” said Evangeline
, turning Heidi’s attention back to her. “That mansion of yours, as well as your shopping habits, has sucked your divorce settlement just about dry.”

“So what? You think I’m going to kidnap my own daughter and hold her ransom?” Heidi’s disdain came through clearly. “Please. If I ever touched a hair on that child’s head, Rumpie would have me killed, birth mother or not. And as for money, perhaps you should have dug a little deeper. I’m getting married again to a very wealthy man.
Something that Rumpie is well aware of. If you’re searching for a motive, then you’re looking at the wrong person.”

Evangeline didn’t say anything, but her nails clacking on the table in a rapid staccato belayed her irritation. Rumpelstiltskin had purposely led them in the wrong direction and while Ryker wondered at his motive, Evangeline appeared pissed.

Standing abruptly, his witch made to leave, and Ryker went to follow suit only to halt when the manicured hand of the ex-Mrs. Rumpelstiltskin grasped at his arm and tugged him down.

Giving her a quizzical look, he almost rolled his eyes when Heidi blatantly licked her overly rouged lips and leaned forward, baring her ample cleavage. “Let
the witch go and stay with me for lunch. I’m not married yet, and I do so love
giving
and
receiving
dessert.”

Ryker didn’t have a chance to answer her obvious overture,
because his witch, sparks almost literally flying from her green eyes, whirled around. She slammed her hands down on the table in front of the blonde cougar with a resounding smack. Evangeline must have cast some kind of Jedi look-away spell, because despite the loud noise, not to mention the ozone smell rolling off her, she’d not drawn the attention of any of the restaurant’s patrons.

“Get your hands off him,” hissed his witch.

“Or what?” said Heidi, arching a brow while Ryker struggled to hold back a grin.
Catfight!

Power sizzled in the air. The static energy made
Evangeline’s hair ruffle and lift as if moved by an invisible breeze. Her eyes turned almost black as she channeled and held some magic in an obvious power show. “Or I will suck out the youth you’ve siphoned for years and leave you as desiccated as the mummies in the museum just up the street.”

Heidi’s eyes widened with fear. “You’re a witch.”

“The Wickedest Witch, something you’d know if you’d actually
looked
at my business card.”

As if Ryker had suddenly developed the plague, Heidi’s hand removed itself from his arm and disappeared under the table into her lap. Her face also adopted a more subservient mien. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know who you were. I meant no offense.”

Ryker wanted to laugh at the way the Heidi bowed before Evangeline’s evident power, but he found himself much more intrigued by the jealousy his witch had just displayed.

She might not like me, but she wants me
, and I don’t get the impression she likes to share.
Good. Because he didn’t share well either.

The smug grin Ryker wore as he trailed Evangeline out of the restaurant had her cheeks burning in unaccustomed embarrassment. She’d made an utter fool of herself.
What the hell possessed me to tell her to keep her hands off?
It’s not like he’s mine.
But while her mind had no problem recognizing that, her body still bristled, a red rage edged in green threatened to rise and she fought the urge to whirl back around and rearrange that uppity bitch’s facial features into something Picasso-ish. What a pity magical society rules prohibited petty revenge. Not that she always followed the rules; after all, she’d not gotten the name of wickedest by being a goody-two-shoes white witch.

The biggest problem she foresaw
if she did retaliate was the admission that she considered the burly shifter hers.
And I never was good at sharing.