The Magic Touch

"Mmm. Cinnamon brimstone. What did you do this time, Lore?" Trinity asked.

"Don't be any ruder than you must be, darling. We have a guest," Lorelei replied.

Oh, God, not another one of Lorelei's kooky friends. The last time it had taken her weeks to get the stains out of the oriental rug in the lounge. Trinity looked around, finally pinpointing a man sitting in one of the wing chairs by the fire. He didn't get up to be introduced, so she dismissed him as rude as hell. She didn't need any shit from Lore's friends. The day had been too damned long for that. "I take it that means you're having supper out?"

"Not at all!" One of Lorelei's delicate red eyebrows arched up, her aunt's best reproachful look firmly in place. "Dev is staying with us for a few days. I have a lovely pork roast in the oven."

Pork roast. Good God. "Lorelei, the domestic goddess, huh?"

"Are you always this impossible with your aunt?" said the guy who got up and came out into the light.

Trinity stared. He wasn't perfect by any means, but oh, he was hot. Definitely hot. Too young for Lore by a long shot, but then, who cared? If he liked his ladies older, so be it. She stabbed a finger at him, giving him her best deadpan look. It worked on the customers at The House of Pain, the one stop shopping alterna-mall where she worked, all the time. "You don't get to berate me for bad manners, mister. I'm not even acknowledging you."

"Trin! Really!" Lorelei looked horrified.

"No, let her go on. Why not, pray tell?"

Man, he even talked like Lore, all old fashioned with perfectly enunciated vowels. "Well, it's pretty obvious you had no desire to meet me, even if I am your hostess' only family," Trinity said with a snort.

"Technically, cousin Nathaniel is family, Trinity, dear...."

"And he's a nutball you adore and I don't get. And that's by marriage. Anyway, you have fun with your pork. I'm going upstairs. I'll call for pizza."

Without waiting for anyone to react, Trinity turned on her heel and marched out, ignoring the tiny little part of her that was ashamed of herself. Okay, so the guy had really pretty dark blond hair, and these weird greeny-yellow eyes, and a nice body under the soft looking pants and loose shirt. So what? That was no reason to be nice to an obvious asshole.

"You see what I put up with?" she heard Lore say loud and clear as she hit the second floor landing, turning left to take the smaller, iron spiral staircase that led to the turret her suite was in.

She really ought to get her own place. Living with Lore was a give and take. Sometimes it felt like all give. But she loved the old monstrous white elephant of a house they shared, the only one in their part of the city that still had "grounds" and wasn't chopped up into trendy apartments. The place had natural stone walls and towers on three corners and a huge solarium, and she didn't want to give that up, even if her aunt made her batty.

Bats in the belfry. Trinity laughed. They actually had those.

Tossing her mail and keys down, Trinity headed right for her workroom, intent on making the changes Augusta had suggested to the new corset she was designing. Augusta, or Gus, as Trinity called her, was her boss, training her in the fine art of historical clothing reproduction, and she did love her job. Not to mention the fact that hard work was great for getting rid of her irritation over a certain hunky houseguest.

Just about the time she got the little pleats pinned in place, a knock on the door had her jabbing herself with a straight pin. Cursing, Trinity sucked at the blood to keep it off the pristine linen, heading back out to answer the damned door.

"What?"

Damn. It wasn't Lore. No, it was Mr. Hotness.

"Your aunt went to a great deal of trouble. She would like you to join us." He stood there, arms folded across his chest, eyes flashing yellow fire.

"Look, Dev, is it?"

"That's a nickname of your aunt's choosing."

"Right. Whatever, don't tell me. We play this game a lot, Lore and I, and I'm not up to it tonight." She started to close the door, but it caught as he stuck his foot across the threshold. Dev didn't even flinch. She did, though, when his hand clamped around her upper arm hard enough to feel it a little.

"You'll come with me now," he said, brows lowering ominously.

Okay, he did forceful really well.

"Oh, you fucker...." she trailed off, something about the set of his mouth and the flash of lightning in his eyes stopping her. Was that ozone she smelled? "Okay. Okay. Let me change into something less formal and I'll be down."

"I will wait five minutes. No more," he said, squeezing her arm even more for emphasis.

Shit. "Five. I'll be right there." God, what an asshole.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "You will be."

Order The Magic Touch