Deception (43 page)

“Don't let him hear you say that,” Brietta warned. “You'll never live it down.”

Layla laughed as she counted the green and blue dashes running across the tops of the goals. Quin's team led by seven. “How long do they play?”

“That depends on how long they feel like playing. Quin's in a hurry, so they're probably playing a game with fifty face-offs. But that doesn't mean it ends at fifty. If the losing team scores the fiftieth goal, it keeps going until the winning team scores.”

Layla added up the two teams' scores and found they'd already played through thirty-five face-offs.

For the next half hour she observed the game in silence and discovered she enjoyed watching Quin put the others to shame with his natural born talent. His athleticism was a turn-on, one she didn’t expect, but sure enough, her stomach fluttered with excitement and arousal. Like she needed something else about him stimulating her. She unceasingly ached for every part of him already.

Her enticing musings and thrilling view were interrupted when Meckenzie's voice chimed from the other side of Brietta. “Hi, Bri.”

Layla looked over and scanned Meckenzie's body, finding she was the shorter witch with soft and wavy, peach hair, which meant Dahlia, who’d also approached, was the taller witch with shiny and straight, black hair that flowed passed her butt.

“Hey,” Brietta returned. “This is Layla, one of my cousins. That’s Meckenzie and Dahlia.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Layla offered.

Dahlia returned Layla’s smile and gave her a wave. “You, too.”

But Meckenzie seated herself in mid-air and dove into an interview. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Layla eyed her for a moment then vaguely answered. “No.”

“Are you here to stay?”

“Yes,” Layla replied, remaining friendly, but she didn't like the questions game. “How about you, Meckenzie? Are you from around here?”

Meckenzie hesitated, surprised by the reversal. “Yes. I've lived here my entire life.”

“Oh yeah? How old are you?”

Brietta stifled a giggle as Meckenzie’s bafflement grew. “I’m um… twenty.”

Layla smiled then turned back to the game, but Meckenzie wasn't satisfied. “So you're staying with Bri’s coven?”

Layla kept her expression smooth, but she wanted to laugh. This witch was acting like she didn't just spend thirty minutes gossiping about the
mysterious Layla
. “I’m a
member
of Bri’s coven,” Layla clarified. And she was about to reiterate that she wasn’t going anywhere when a pained grunt echoed through the clearing.

Layla snapped her gaze to Quin, but the grunt wasn't his. It was Kegan's, whose calf had been sliced open by a blade. Brietta's interest flared, but she didn't tense or gasp or do anything Layla would have done. She just calmly watched as Kegan received a speedy healing hand from Quin. Within seven seconds, the game was back on and all was well.

Layla began counting the score again, and Mackenzie continued her interrogation. “What are you guys doing later? I hear Weylin wants to howl at the moon. Will you be joining the party?”

“I’ll be there,” Brietta answered.

But Layla ignored the question as she finished counting.
46… 47… 48
. Her heart rate spiked, and she realized she was itching for Quin's arms. Literally, it felt like bugs had invaded her veins. “The game's almost over.”

“Did you just count all those?” Brietta laughed.

“Yeah,” Layla mumbled, keeping her eyes on Quin.

Weylin scored, and her blood ran hotter as her lungs pulled in deeper breaths. “This will be their last face-off if Quin's team scores.”

“They will,” Brietta smirked. “I'd bet my water magic on it.”

The witches watched as the puck dropped to the ice, and it was the quickest round yet. If Layla had blinked, she would have missed it.

Kegan reached the puck before anyone else, and he kicked it out to Quin, who wasted no time with passing. He simply used magic to slide it under Kennet's outstretched leg. Then he flipped over all of them and landed next to the puck, which glowed dark-amber for a split-second before shooting toward the open goal.

Weylin, Brynton and Kennet were still rotating when the puck hit the icy backstop, and Quin spun away from it, flashing a grin as he slapped Weylin’s shoulder. “That's the game.” Without another word, he skated off the edge of the rink, let gravity pull him several feet then shot toward Layla.

She straightened and left Brietta’s arm, vibrating with anticipation, and her heart sighed as she drifted into Quin like the lost piece of his puzzle.

Wrapping one arm around her waist, he cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead, nose, and lips. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“You were fantastic,” she whispered. “That's about all I noticed, and yes, I did enjoy it.”

“Good,” he sighed, smelling her hair as he floated to earth. “I'm glad, but I'm more than ready to leave. Just you and me from now on, love. I promise. Unless you want me to take you out to dinner?”

“I don't need to eat,” she murmured, nuzzling his neck.

He laughed and ran a hand down her curls. “Then we'll eat by ourselves.”

Layla breathed deep, so happy to be back in his neck, but then she forced herself to leave it. “Do you want your shirt back?”

“Nope, but you could make me something special as you get rid of that ice.”

“Hmm . . .” she hummed, smiling at her creation. “Something special.”

“Oh goody,” Brietta exclaimed, pulling Kegan closer. “Watch, Keg. Layla's very creative.”

“No pressure,” Layla laughed.

“But I'm your sunshine,” Brietta countered. “I have to light a fire under your ass.”

“You are my sunshine,” Layla agreed, trying to come up with a worthy magic trick. When she returned her gaze to Quin, she kissed his cheek and flashed her fingers at the sky.

A loud pop echoed through the clearing, and the ice busted into thousands of pearly, blue bubbles. The liberated rose petals slowly tumbled toward earth, shuffling this way and that on the wind, but halfway to the ground they transformed into butterflies. Forming two quivering and breathing bands, the creatures flew toward the watching magicians, and one ribbon spiraled around Layla and Quin while the other enveloped Brietta and Kegan. The shimmery cyclones eventually disbanded, and the butterflies scattered, flitting among dancing bubbles.

Kegan and Brietta laughed as they raced for a low-flying bubble, and the others watched the sky with wide eyes and open mouths.

“That was very special,” Quin praised, bringing Layla’s attention around. “Thank you. You never cease to amaze me.”

“I have something else for you,” she whispered, touching a deep dimple. Then she sighed and released her aura.

Several people gasped, but Quin ignored them as he scanned the air around her, his tension melting away. “That's way better than magic,” he approved. “I’ve been missing it.” He leaned in for a kiss, but kept it short. “Tell Bri goodbye. We're leaving.”

“Bye, sunshine,” Layla called.

“Bye, Layla Love,” Brietta laughed. “See ya, Quin.”

He didn't reply or say goodbye to anyone else. He was too distracted to bother with manners and too pleased to care. “Conceal us, love.”

Their bodies disappeared, but their auras burned bright as he tightened his hold on her and shot into the air.

“Hot damn,” Weylin exclaimed. “She really is an angel.”

Chapter 28

Landing on the suite's rose-covered terrace with his invisible angel in his arms, Quin swept open the balcony doors and carried her inside.

He wanted to take her straight to bed. He wanted to lay her on something soft, vanish her dress then take his time tasting every inch of her perfect skin. He wanted to find every tender spot on her body and touch them, kiss them, lick them, and make them twitch; and he wanted to take her fingers in his and guide them to his own sensitive flesh.

She hadn't stopped kissing his body since they left the hockey game, and his muscles were simultaneously liquid and steel. He was more turned on by her now than ever before, and he could have sworn an invisible force was tugging his body toward the down-covered mattress. He fought it, summoning all the willpower he possessed to make sure it didn't succeed. His angel's stomach was growling, and he didn’t want her thinking about food while he devoured her.

“Let me see you,” he urged, blindly searching out her cheek.

Their bodies appeared, and she sighed as she found his eyes. “Hi.”

He kissed her eyelids, cheeks and nose. Then he gently sucked on her pout.

“Mmm…” she hummed, licking her bottom lip.

He grinned then slid his tongue behind hers. “Would you like dinner?”

“Sure,” she agreed, licking her bottom lip again.

He laughed at her seductive game. Then he gave her moist pout one more kiss before lowering her feet to the floor. “I'll get it ready.”

“Mkay,” she mumbled, trailing a forefinger across her pucker. Then she smiled and slipped the finger in her mouth, leaving him wanting as she floated to the bathroom.

He watched her go, his heart practically thumping out of his chest as thick blood surged quivering veins. Not even losing sight of her calmed his vitals, so he pulled in a deep breath then slowly exhaled, locking his fingers behind his head as he walked to the parlor.

Layla emerged from the bathroom to find Quin standing on the threshold of the veranda, facing away from her, but as she drew closer, he turned and held out a hand. She took it and let him pull her under his arm. Then she followed his gaze to the sea.

The horizon was on fire, flashing with a delightful combination of orange, red and yellow as the sun dipped into the dark ocean, its shimmering reflection growing smaller and dimmer as the seconds ticked by. When only a thin slice of red remained, Layla flipped her gaze up, finding sparkling shafts of pink-coral and wispy silver where day coalesced with night.

“That was beautiful,” she whispered, finding Quin’s eyes.

“You're beautiful,” he countered. “Are you hungry?”

“For some things more than others.”

He looked over, and her gaze followed, widening as the nearby table filled with her favorite foods – expensive foods like lobster and shrimp. For desert, there was a layered chocolate cake, and beside the table sat a minibar draped in roses. Atop the petals was a chilled bottle of champagne, two glasses, and to her utter amazement and appreciation, an espresso machine, which was already brewing.

“How did you manage to do all this while I was in the bathroom? I was gone less than two minutes.”

He pulled out her chair while floating his to the spot beside it. Then he sat and pulled her onto his lap. “I didn’t do this. It came from the inn's kitchen. I just put the order in.”

She scanned the fragrant roses, delicious food, and twilight sky then found his eyes. “So why would we even consider eating out? This is far better than any restaurant I've seen.”

“Well, the whole point of leaving was to let you experience Cannon Beach, which we didn't do.” He summoned a freshly brewed cup of espresso, added sugar then handed it over. “I'm sorry about this afternoon, Layla. I never intended for our time together to be interrupted by a game.”

She drank her espresso in one gulp then floated the tiny cup to the minibar. “It was fun, and I got to meet your friends.” She smiled as she watched him take a drink of champagne. Then she licked the lingering flavor from his lips. “I did miss you while you were on the ice slaughtering the competition, but the reunion was sweet.”

He pulled a curl from her cheek and swept it under his nose. “The sweetest.”

His gaze flipped from her aura to her lips, then her chest. Then he cleared his throat and moved her to the chair beside him. “Let’s eat.”

So that’s what Layla did, and she wasn’t shy about it either. She’d never seen such a delicious spread and was determined to take advantage. Thank goodness she had magic to maneuver through the shellfish and keep things clean, or she would have looked like a cave woman feasting on her brute’s fresh kill.

Quin stayed quiet, which spared her the embarrassment of talking with her mouth full, but he kept touching her, which made her forget about food altogether, even if she was in the middle of a bite. Her eyes would close, and only her natural reflexes kept her teeth mechanically moving as she concentrated on his hands… or his lips. Sometimes it was both. Yes, dinner was quite delayed by his fancy seafood and constant attention, and the result was the longest, most succulent meal she'd ever had.

After forcing down a bite of cake, she took a drink of champagne and found his eyes. “You make it difficult to get through a meal, Quinlan Farrel.”

“I thought I showed remarkable restraint,” he returned.

She laughed and leaned closer, glancing at his nearly empty plate. “Are you done?”

“With the food, yes. With you, not even close.”

“Hmm…” she hummed, sliding a fingernail over his shoulder. “What will we do?”

He shivered as he gulped his champagne. Then he vanished their dinner mess and picked her up. “I have a few things in mind.”