Rekindled Magic Read online

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, then.”

  The sisters took their places, one on either side of the table where Bear rested. They clasped hands, and each placed a palm on the canine’s abdomen.

  “Goddess, hear our plea. Assist us in our time of need.”

  The candles within the ring flickered to and fro, a clear indication the spirit of the Goddess was among them. Summer locked eyes with Holly and nodded. “We need to visualize his internal organs as they would be in full health. Look at the diagram in the book. Imagine everything in working order and the blood pumping properly through his veins. Can you do that, sister?”

  Holly gave an affirmative nod.

  “Good. Push a white healing energy out through your palm where it is resting on his belly. I’m going to knit the tendons, tissues, blood vessels, veins, and so on. Whatever you do, don’t stop feeding the healing light until I say.”

  “Got it.”

  They worked for nearly a half hour, and finally, when Quentin had nothing left to give, the women concluded their spell and closed the circle. The dog wasn’t out of the woods completely, but neither was death imminent.

  Quentin sat back in one of the padded chairs and closed his eyes, as weak as a newborn kitten. Summer left to notify Bear’s family that it would be a wait-and-see game but that the prognosis was good.

  The scent of fresh lemons teased his nostrils. A soft, warm palm settled on his cheek while another smoothed back his sweat-drenched hair.

  “Quentin.”

  The effort to open his eyes cost him what remaining energy he had left.

  “I’m going to transport you to my home in order to look after you for a while,” Holly said. “You okay with that?”

  “Yeah. But no taking advantage of my body in its weakened state.”

  “I’ll try to resist the urge,” she said dryly. “Hold on tight.”

  “I’ve never let go, love,” he murmured before he passed out.

  Holly laid a cool cloth on Quentin’s brow and sighed.

  What he did today reminded her of all the kind gestures she’d witnessed him perform in the past. While he may be the biggest man-whore on the planet, he had a heart of gold and was ready to take on a lost cause without a moment’s thought.

  Because he was sleeping, she allowed herself to study his breathtaking face. She’d never seen a man as beautiful in her entire life. Not movie stars, not male models, not anyone. Quentin was a work of art. When the Goddess created him, she must’ve celebrated for days.

  Added to his strong forehead and straight aquiline nose were his high cheekbones. That combination, along with the dark arched brows framing his warm chocolate bedroom eyes, was sheer poetry. He also had a wide smiling mouth that boasted brilliant white teeth, all in perfect alignment. There wasn’t a soul on the planet who came anywhere close to matching his handsomeness.

  His mouth fell open slightly as he slept.

  Holly’s eyes fell to his full, generous lips. The desire to kiss him was never far from the surface. Whatever their problems had been, sex wasn’t one of them. Her breathing kicked up a notch, and her fingers twitched to trace his chiseled jaw. She closed her eyes and sighed a second time. Yes, she still desired him even after all they’d been through.

  A sixth sense told her that she was being watched. When she opened her eyes, she sucked in her breath. Quentin’s stare was hot. Bold hunger shone brightly in his gaze. The skin over her entire body tightened.

  “How long have I been out?”

  His deep, husky tone reached right in and tickled her lady bits.

  She licked her lips and swallowed before answering. “Not too long. Maybe three hours.”

  They stared, lost in one another.

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, his voice low and intimate.

  “If I left you helpless in one of the exam rooms, the female staff would’ve been fighting each other for a chance to touch you.”

  He grinned and shifted the hand resting across his chest to cup her hip. The gesture was a familiar one from long ago. “In that case, I owe you doubly so.”

  Irritated with herself for being sucked back in, if only for a few hours, she removed his hand and snapped, “Don’t act like you don’t love women fighting over you.”

  Something akin to disappointment clouded his eyes before he closed them.

  “Yep. You have me all figured out.” He scrubbed his hands over his face and handed her the damp washcloth from his forehead. “Give me a few more minutes to get my legs under me, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Ashamed of her churlish behavior, she cleared her throat. “You don’t have to leave right away. Take your time to recover.”

  He snorted his disbelief and sat up. “Don’t act like you give a shit now, Holly. You might shock my system into a fatal heart attack.”

  “I’m not a complete bitch.” A forceful sneeze accompanied her statement. Before she could fist her hand to stem the avian inundation, pecking started on the bay window beside the sofa. “Oh, for fu—”

  Quentin’s large palm covered her mouth and cut off her colorful curse. “Not unless you want a scene from one of Hitchcock’s movies.”

  Holly glared her frustration.

  For a mere second, his eyes warmed with humor before he banked his amusement and released her. “You’re not a bitch. A bit of a hellcat, but not a bitch.”

  He leaned his head back on the couch and stared at her through his thick black lashes. With his legs spread wide, he was the very image of sexy. Even ill, his pull was strong. Everything inside her wanted to merge and mate with him.

  “You shouldn’t look at me that way, love. It sends mixed signals.”

  “I’m not looking at you in any way, Quentin,” she denied hotly.

  “Mmhmm.” Again, he closed his eyes.

  Concern for him overpowered her pique, and she rested a hand on his thigh. “Are you sure you’re okay? I think you should lie back down.”

  He didn’t answer, and Holly knew Quentin had passed out again.

  Because she’d never seen him this weak, her nerves got the better of her. She found her phone and dialed her aunt, GiGi, for assistance.

  In less than five minutes, her aunt had arrived.

  “What did the fool boy do?” GiGi asked.

  “A blood transfusion for a Rottweiler. He was trying to save the dog’s life for a little girl.” And didn’t that melt her heart?

  GiGi glanced up sharply. “What a lovely, yet completely foolish thing to do!”

  “Yes.” Holly’s heartfelt sigh came from the teenage girl who once loved a wild teenage boy.

  “Did he do it to impress you?”

  As she stared down at Quentin’s incredible face, she slowly shook her head. “No. It’s just who he is. Reckless. Impulsive. Sweet as the day is long.”

  “Sounds like you love him, child.”

  The statement shook her from her dreamy state. She scowled. “No. I thought I loved who he once appeared to be. I was wrong.”

  “That seems to be the theme of this family,” GiGi chuckled. “But it also seems that perhaps the women are a bunch of blind fools. Shall I include you in the lot?”

  Irritated at being lumped in with her sisters and their past relationship woes, Holly snapped, “I’ll go make you tea. Let me know if you need help with him.”

  Chapter 3

  “You can open your eyes, dear boy. She’s gone.”

  Quentin cracked one eye to peek from beneath his lashes before sitting up straight. “She’s a hard nut to crack. You’ll wear yourself out trying to convince her she’s in the wrong, Miss GiGi.”

  “And you? Seems you’ve been chasing her for quite a long time. Aren’t you worn out yet?”

  He met her knowing blue eyes and grimaced. “There are days I feel like I’m close to wearing her down. Others make me feel like I should walk away for good.”

  “Why don’t you tell her the truth?”

  Staring
off in the direction Holly had gone, Quentin shrugged morosely. “If she didn’t believe me then, she won’t believe me now. It doesn’t matter. I’ll be here for her until she’s safe.”

  “Does she at least know you aren’t on my brother’s payroll?”

  He snorted. “You’d think she’d have figured that out a long time ago. Alastair thinks I’m incompetent and not good enough for his precious daughter. He certainly wouldn’t hire me as a bodyguard for her.”

  “She’s blind for the trees. But you’re wrong about my brother. He wouldn’t let you near her if he believed you incompetent.” GiGi felt his pulse and did a quick check of his pupils. “Nothing wrong with you that a little rest won’t cure, dear. Shall we make up an excuse to let you continue to stay close?”

  “If I wasn’t already in love with my prickly pear, I’d marry you in a minute, Miss GiGi.” His appreciative grin couldn’t be contained. In GiGi, he’d found a brilliant co-conspirator.

  “Pfft. Perhaps my niece is correct. You are the world’s biggest ladies’ man.”

  “Can I help it if I love beautiful women?”

  The timing for his statement was unfortunate since Holly chose that moment to return. Her concerned expression turned icy, and Quentin heaved an internal sigh. He couldn’t win where she was concerned. It had never been more apparent than recently. The time was almost upon them for him to move on. When he did, he’d leave his heart with her forever.

  When a hand patted his shoulder, he jumped. In the short time since Holly had entered the room, he’d forgotten anyone else existed.

  “You should remain here for a least another few days, my boy. What you did was a serious drain on your system,” GiGi said with a secretive wink only he was privy to. She faced Holly. “I’m assuming it isn’t a problem for you to help care for him. He’ll need twenty-four-hour care for at least three days.”

  “Aunt GiGi! I can’t take care of him twenty-four-seven. I have a job and things I need to do.”

  “Well, I suppose we could always hire a nurse for him,” GiGi said. “I know just the woman.” She pulled her phone from her purse and scrolled through the listings. To Quentin, she said, “I think you’ll like her. She’s young, gorgeous, and—”

  “He doesn’t need a full-time nurse,” Holly growled as she snatched her aunt’s phone from her hand. “I’ll take care of him.”

  “I’m sure Sophie wouldn’t mind, dear. Since she’s given up modeling, she’s been looking for—”

  “I said I’ll take care of him,” Holly nearly shouted.

  Quentin focused on the ceiling and bit the inside of his lip. If he made eye contact with GiGi, he was sure to laugh.

  “That’s good, child. Perhaps while he’s recovering, you can both discuss finding the last of the artifacts for your mother’s recovery.”

  “You’re on board with this now? Since when?” Holly demanded.

  Quentin remained quiet to gauge GiGi’s response. Holly’s question was legit. Prior to this moment, GiGi had been against the scheme to collect the four ancient artifacts needed to restore Aurora Fennell-Thorne’s life.

  “You’re all determined on this crazy course of action. I can only hope you will take this dear boy with you when you go after the scroll. He’s quite the bodyguard, don’t you think?”

  “He’s eye candy for desperate women,” Holly retorted as she gathered up the washcloth and bowl of water she’d used earlier. “But whatever. For now, all I need to know is if he requires any medication for his recovery.”

  As GiGi fished around in her bag of tricks, he studied her. At nearly seventy-years-old, she looked incredible. With the body of a female less than half her age and not a single line on her face, she could’ve easily been mistaken for a woman in her early thirties. Such was the case with most witches. The cellular aging slowed to a crawl. The Thornes were luckier than most with their eye-catching beauty. He could only hope he aged half as well as the members of the Thorne family. GiGi’s estranged husband, Ryker, was an idiot for not storming the proverbial castle gates and reclaiming his bride. Holly’s aunt was exceptional in every way.

  GiGi came up with a small box of Altoids mints and hastily ran her thumb over the tin. When he saw the design morph into one resembling a medical remedy, he almost lost it. GiGi Thorne-Gillespie was a crafty old broad, and he was quickly coming to adore her.

  Once again, she faced Holly to hand over the tin. “Give him one of these every three hours as needed. Don’t overdo, or you could cause stomach upset.” She snapped the closure on her black bag. “I’ll be back in two days to check on his progress.”

  Quentin captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “Thank you, Miss GiGi. You’re an angel in disguise.”

  A slight blush crept into her cheeks. “And you, dear boy, are the devil in disguise. But oh, what a handsome charmer you are. I hope the medication helps.” With a twinkle in her eye, she kissed his forehead and whispered, “Don’t give up on our girl.”

  In the blink of an eye, the older woman teleported away, leaving Quentin and Holly alone with a wealth of silence between them.

  * * *

  Holly stared at the tin of “medication” in her hand. She wasn’t naive. She knew very well the trick her aunt had pulled with the mints. First, her nose wasn’t broken. The smell of the Altoids was overwhelming. Secondly, GiGi had pulled a similar trick when Holly was a small child and didn’t want to face punishment for whatever she’d done.

  With a slight shake of her head, she handed the tin to Quentin. “Take them or not. At the very least, they’ll give you fresh breath.”

  His bark of laughter nearly triggered hers in turn. Quentin had a wonderful laugh; full-bodied, deep, and contagious.

  “She’s one in a million. What was it like growing up with her?”

  By the time Quentin had come into the picture, her aunt had been long gone. His question was curious and forthright, and Holly answered in the same honest spirit in which he’d asked. “Aunt GiGi was only around until my mother came into my life. But when Mom went into stasis, I still didn’t see much of my aunt. She had a falling out with my father. I’m not sure why, but I assumed it had to do with Uncle Ryker.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her surprise must’ve shown because he said, “You missed having a stable adult for the most important years of your life. It had to be difficult, considering what we are.”

  “You know, no one has ever understood that before,” she said softly. Quentin might be the world’s greatest flirt, but he was also extremely perceptive. Which might also be why he was successful with members of the opposite sex, now that she thought about it more.

  “You’d be surprised what I notice about you, Holly.”

  The seriousness of his tone reached in and squeezed her heart. Once upon a time, she’d have taken those words at face value. She’d have hugged him and offered up a kiss to show her appreciation of his understanding. The loss stung. He had been essential to her existence—until the day he’d broken her heart.

  Because she needed to escape his presence, she grabbed the first excuse she could think of. “I was going to make lunch. Are you hungry?”

  “Extremely,” he murmured.

  Holly swallowed hard. They both knew he wasn’t referring to food. “Great,” she burst out, her tone overly bright. “I’ll whip us up a bite to eat.”

  Wry humor curled his lip. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and heat unfurled low in her belly. What the hell was wrong with her today? First, she’d ogled his ass as he unloaded the pallet of dog food. Then, because she couldn’t not touch him, she’d bathed his face and neck while he was sleeping. Now, she was fawning over every sideways glance.

  She turned on her heel but didn’t make it a single step before he’d captured her hand and tugged her into his lap. Without a by-your-leave, he kissed her; hungrily and all-consuming.

  Her hands flew to his chest, whether to balance herself or to feel his large pecs was up for question. Holly didn’t try to offer a
token of resistance; she didn’t want to. Instead, she went with the kiss. It had been too long since she’d had intimate human contact. Too long. And deep down, she missed what she’d shared with Quentin.

  His kisses—deep, hot, slow, yet with enough fire to singe—drugged her mind and set her body alight. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but her shirt was off, and Quentin stopped, hyper-focused on a jagged scar that ran from her collarbone to beneath her bra on the right side of her chest.

  His rage was palpable.

  “I should have found a way to kill him slower.”

  Holly gasped and scrambled backwards off Quentin’s lap, crashing into the sharp corner of the coffee table. She winced and grabbed for her scrub top.

  Before she could pull it over her head, he yanked it from her hand and tossed it Goddess knew where. She focused her wary gaze from his enraged face. A whisper of a memory teased the corners of her brain. “Y-you? You w-were there?”

  His mouth twisted in an ugly grimace, and he looked away.

  Holly surged forward, any embarrassment about her scarred body gone. She grabbed his face between her palms. “Quentin? You were there?”

  A sharp, rough nod was her answer.

  “How?”

  “It’s ancient history, love.”

  She ignored his gruffness. Quentin always became irritable when he didn’t want to answer a question.

  “How?” she demanded.

  “Holly, please don’t ask me about that night.” His dark, tortured eyes lifted to meet her probing gaze.

  “I need to know. All this time, I thought it was my father who saved me from Beau and Michelle. But it was you, wasn’t it?”

  Quentin closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

  The memory of the night her husband and her best friend had tried to kill her came rushing back. Holly was transported back in time through the brutal memories.

  Beau had picked her up from the diner where she was waitressing that night. Coincidentally, Quentin had been loitering around inside over a cup of coffee. As she distributed tickets to the last of her customers—Quentin included—he had grabbed her arm.