Witchy Woman (20 page)

“You don’t look happy.”

“Oh, never mind about that,” she said abruptly. “What about Judy?”

“I tried to check on her, but since I wasn’t family, they wouldn’t give me any information.”

That didn’t bode well, Tess thought, deflating. The hospital had never denied either of them information before. “Let’s go up to her room and check.” She turned to the doctor. “Are you about done with those stitches?”

The nurse scowled. “You aren’t going anywhere, missy. You came in here half-dead from loss of blood, and we pulled off at least half a miracle bringing you back. You’re going to lie here quietly until we get you a room. Sheesh!”

The doctor scowled at her too. “What she said.”

Tess slumped back onto the gurney. The pain in her arm was nothing compared with the pain of not knowing Judy’s condition. What if the spell had failed? What if Judy died? Would they wait until the next full moon and try again, or give it up and submit to the curse?

That was a dismal thought. She supposed she ought to be grateful she and Nate had at least survived the ordeal. The same couldn’t be said about the Crimson Cat.

The doctor and nurse finished with Tess’s arm and quietly withdrew, leaving her alone with Nate. He grabbed the rolling stool abandoned by the doctor and sat down, then rubbed her upper arm lightly—the only part of her arm that didn’t have needles sticking out of it.

“You look pretty good, considering,” he said. “At least you’ve got some color back in your cheeks. How do you feel?”

“Not bad.”

“How are your hands?”

“Those IV needles are murder.”

“No, I mean the burns.”

She looked at him. “Burns?” She turned her hand over and slowly opened her curled fingers. The palm of her right hand was pink and healthy.

“You had second-degree burns on that hand a couple of hours ago,” Nate said excitedly. “From picking up the cat, remember?”

She did remember! “Well, my hands are fine now.
Oh, Nate, do you think—does that mean we did it? We reversed the curse?”

He grinned ear to ear. “I think maybe we did.” Then his grin faded. “But did we do it in time for Judy?”

An orderly entered the treatment room. “I’m supposed to take you to your room. Two-oh-three.”

“Okay,” Tess said meekly. Then she whispered to Nate, “Second floor. Same as ICU.”

When the orderly rolled her gurney off the elevator on the second floor, Tess spoke up again. “Go left.”

“Pardon me?”

“Turn me to the left and down that hall. Toward ICU.”

“But your room—”

“I want to take the scenic route, okay?”

He shrugged and did as she asked. When they approached the ICU doors, they immediately saw that a great commotion was taking place inside. Nurses running around like determined ants. When someone came barreling out the ICU doors, loud voices drifted out into the hallway.

“Oh, no,” Tess breathed. “What if we were too late? Take me inside,” she told the orderly. “Hurry.”

“What do you think this is, a taxi service?”

“Please. My friend is in there. I just want to see if she’s okay.”

The orderly clearly thought she was a candidate for the psych ward, but he pushed her gurney through the double doors. “You can do the explaining when we get stopped.”

Then she heard it. Judy’s voice, high and clear and strong. “Coma? I was in a coma? No way. You guys are exaggerating.”

Tess looked at Nate. His grin matched hers.

“We did it!” they said together.

The orderly merely shook his head. “Enough of this. My orders say room two-oh-three, and that’s where you’re going.”

Tess came home from the hospital two days later, feeling remarkably fit. Nate had stayed with her almost the entire time. When she was released, he’d insisted on driving her home, getting her settled, fixing her a grilled-cheese sandwich arid tomato soup.

Tess figured that pretty soon he’d run out of things to do for her. She wondered how she could keep him around. One thought did occur to her. After he’d made love to her in his mind, she’d decided she was going to make it happen for real—as soon as possible.

Now would be a good time. But what if he didn’t see things her way? They’d been in the throes of a very emotional situation. Now that things were getting back to normal, maybe he felt differently about her. She had no idea how to broach the subject. He’d been unfailingly kind since her recovery in the ER, but nothing sexual had passed between them, not even a wink.

After cleaning up the lunch dishes, he came into the living room and sat down next to her on the couch, where she reclined in her peach silk robe like some invalid only because he’d ordered her to rest.

“I’ll be going back to the office in a couple of days,” she said, feeling awkward. “I’ll bet my work has piled up like crazy.”

“Yeah, I need to go back to work pretty soon too.”

“To write up the Moonbeam Majick story?” she asked. “I won’t try to stop you. The story is as much yours as mine now.”

He laughed. “Tess. Get real. Who would believe it? No, I’m going back to that antiques story I was working on.”

“You mean that was a real story? Not just a ruse to get to me?”

“It started out as a ruse, but it turned into something pretty intriguing.
Boston Life
magazine is interested in it.”

They fell silent. She looked around the room desperately, trying to find inspiration. If she didn’t say something, he was going to leave! But her living room was so damn white, so damn devoid of anything that might make a topic of conversation. How had she ever thought it was comforting?

“I’m going to buy some more colorful paintings for the walls,” she declared. “Abstracts. And maybe an Oriental rug.”

“Your decor is a little on the minimal side.”

“Nothing like your apartment,” she said wistfully. “I really like your place. It’s so homey, so comfortable.”

“So, move in with me.”

Now the silence crackled with electricity.

“Maybe I will,” she finally said, peering covertly at him through her lashes to gauge his reaction.

He smiled and gently pulled her against him, then lay back with her in his arms. “We could find a bigger place, if you want.”

She closed her eyes, picturing it. It would look something like Nate’s place, but less crowded. She liked her white sofas, but some colorful throws would make them better. They could have a real library, for all of Nate’s books and magazines.

And definitely a bigger kitchen.

“You’d like a bigger kitchen, wouldn’t you?” he asked.

Oh. He’d read her mind again. “Mm, yes.” Were they still psychically linked? Even though her gift, as far as she could tell, had vanished? She relaxed and opened her mind to the possibilities.

Hell, how am I ever going to get her to marry me?
She heard his voice as clearly as if he were speaking aloud, but she knew he wasn’t.
We’ve known each other, what, a week? How is it possible for anyone to know they want to spend the rest of their lives together after only a week?

She knew she should stop him, tell him that she was tuned into his frequency, but she couldn’t get any words past the lump in her throat.

Still, there is that lock-of-hair thing. The spell worked, didn’t it? That must mean she loves me.

“Yes, of course I love you,” Tess said through tears of joy.

Nate jumped. “I thought you—”

“I thought I did, too, but apparently I didn’t lose
everything. I can still read at least some of your thoughts. Do you mind having a wife who can tune into you like that?” She twisted around to look at him.

A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “Since I’d never cheat on you, or lie to you, I guess it doesn’t bother me that much. Like you once said, I’ll get used to it.”

“Good. In that case, yes, I’ll marry you.”

“I haven’t asked, yet.”

“But you want to. Maybe you should do it after we make love.” She maneuvered herself onto her stomach so she was lying on top of him in a very intimate position. She let her robe fall open just a little, and was rewarded by a flash of desire in his eyes.

“Tess,” he objected, “you’re still recovering. I wouldn’t even think of—”

“Please, think of it,” she said. And she planted a slow, wet kiss on his surprised mouth. “Virginity is tedious at my age. Let’s put an end to it. I’m feeling fine, really.”

Nate hesitated only a fraction of a second longer before he kissed her back. “If you’re sure …”

“Yes.”

They ended up on the floor, surrounded by her pastel silk pillows. The scene was very reminiscent of the fantasy in some ways, though different in others. For one thing, Nate’s clothes didn’t magically vanish. She had to tug to get them all off, and she laughed until her stomach hurt when, in their frenzy, he got his foot stuck in the leg of his jeans.

When he was finally naked, though, all laughter
stopped. He was a beautiful specimen of the male species. Whereas her fantasy had featured everything in soft focus, now all was sharply defined—sights, sounds, even smells. She hadn’t realized how delicious Nate’s skin smelled, or how the texture of his hair felt against her face.

Nate was infinitely patient, caressing and kissing her everywhere until she begged him to put an end to her misery. She gasped when he touched her between her legs, and nearly dissolved when he slipped his finger insider her. No fantasy could have done this experience justice.

“You are a hot woman, Tess DeWitt,” he whispered. “But I’m still afraid I’ll hurt you.”

That seemed impossible. Nothing could hurt her, not while Nate Wagner was loving her. Between them, their love was more powerful than a centuries-old curse. “We’re already one in mind and soul,” she said. “It’s time for us to be one in body.”

Nate groaned and kissed her again. “You said that really well.”

He nudged her legs apart and moved between them. Tess wondered how a man his size could manage to lie so gently atop her, but he felt no heavier than a pillow. She rejoiced when his hardness sought entrance to her body. She exulted when he plunged inside.

Unlike their shared fantasy, she felt momentary pain. It surprised her enough that a few little tears sprang into her eyes. Nate, attuned to her as he was, immediately stilled.

“I did hurt you.”

“It was inevitable,” she said, laughing. “It’s not as bad as all that.” She laughed again. “It’s gone now. Please don’t stop.” She closed her eyes and bit her lip and new, more pleasurable sensations made themselves known. “It feels wonderful now.”

He began moving again, slowly, letting her catch up. Then they were flying together, soaring above the stars.

“Tess! I can’t … wait.…”

There was no need for him to prolong his pleasure. She climaxed with a high, keening scream that rattled the furniture. With one final groan he joined her, and she knew that whatever plane she’d been transported to, he’d been there with her.

The oneness was incredible.

“What you do to me,” she said when she could talk again.

“Me too.”

“Does this mean I can’t wear white at the wedding?” she said with a giggle.

“You can wear purple, for all I care,” he said, hugging her close just as the phone rang. “Ah, hell, never fails. You’re going to let it ring, aren’t you?”

“It might be Judy,” Tess said, scrambling off the floor. “Just stay right there, I won’t be long.” She lunged for the extension on the end table. “Hello?”

“Tess? It’s Heidi Pavel—from Dowling?”

“Oh, my God, is something wrong with Morganna?” The sanitarium
never
called her.

“No, no, quite the contrary. We’ve had something of a breakthrough, in fact.”

Tess’s heart skipped a beat. Was it possible? The spell had cured the burns on her hands and had brought Judy out of her coma, but could it have helped Morganna as well?

“Her doctor doesn’t know quite what to make of it, but your mother is asking for you. Would you like to speak to her?”

“Yes!”

There was a long pause, then, incredibly, her mother’s voice was on the other end of the line. “Tess? Darling?” She sounded tentative, as if she were afraid Tess would reject her.

“I’m here, Morganna.”

“Please, don’t call me that. I know I told you to, but couldn’t you forget all about that and call me Mother? Just this once?”

Tess’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, Mother, of course.”

Mildred DeWitt lowered her voice. “You did it, didn’t you? The spell?”

“Yes. Nate and I did it together. The Crimson Cat is gone.”

“Then you must have done it correctly—the part I messed up, I mean.”

Tess couldn’t believe it. She was having a normal conversation with her mother—not Morganna Majick, but the kind mother she remembered from so long ago. “Yes,” she managed. “It was love that finally triumphed over evil. True, pure love.”

Nate, sensing the importance of the call, had come over to put his arm around Tess. She tipped the receiver
out so he could hear both sides of the conversation.

“Love,” Mildred repeated. “That’s a rare thing in this world. So, when’s the wedding?”

Tess, startled, took a few moments to answer. She looked at Nate. He shrugged. “It’s, um—”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter when,” Mildred said. “Just so I’m invited. Your man, your Nate, he must be a good one, though I can’t imagine what he must think of me. Can you bring yourself to let me come to the wedding, Tess? I won’t embarrass you. Can you possibly ever forgive all those terrible things I did and said?”

Nate nodded his encouragement to Tess.

“Yes, Mother,” she said, her heart so full, she thought it would burst with joy. “I can forgive.”

She hung up, thinking of all the things she could do now that she never dreamed of—touching, for one thing. The Crimson Cat might have been cursed, but in a way it had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Without its influence, she might never have gotten her mother back.

And she might never have bonded with Nate, or discovered her own hidden strengths. She might never have known the pure, twenty-four-karat joy of loving and being loved.

“I love you,” she said to Nate, at the exact same time he said it to her. They stared at each other, then laughed.