Finding the Magic by Cait Miller Page B

was pulled back into a high ponytail and her creamy complexion was clear of shadows. He suspected that her lilac sweater and jeans might cover some bruising but she seemed to be unaffected by it.
    “How did we get to the house?”
    “I drove us.”
    A blush crept over her face as he watched and an image flashed through his mind of Jayne sitting between his legs in the front seat of his four-wheel drive. Irritated with his body’s response to the provocative memory, he glared at her.
    “I thought you said you couldnae drive?”
    She frowned at him. “I can’t. I have, however, had some lessons, they were enough to get the car moving and get us here. Mary helped me get you into the house. You should be thanking me, not snarling at me.” She swept out of the room before he could answer and he growled in frustration. Movement caught his eye and he turned see Mary smiling at him. He held up his hand to silence her. “ Dinnae say a word, dinnae even think it. It’s not goin ’ tae happen.”
    The smile was gone but her eyes twinkled. “Okay.”
    “Ah mean it.”
    “Fine.”
    Cam shook his head and walked away from her. He had work to do, maybe now that he knew Jayne was safe, he would be able to get on with it. He was on the stairs when Mary’s triumphant whisper reached his sensitive ears.
    “Yes!”
     
    When he stepped from his shower twenty minutes later, his mood was worse, rather than better. The coffee sat untouched on the bedside table where he had left it when his stomach had revolted at his first sip. His head was still pounding with the lingering effects of the tranquilizer, despite the pain reliever he had taken. He swiped a towel over his body in quick, angry strokes. A cold shower had done nothing to dampen his lust. A condition intensified by the fact that his housekeeper— ex -housekeeper—had put Jayne in the bedroom next door. He could feel her there.
    She was unpacking. Relaxed and faintly excited, looking forward to exploring the house and grounds. Their connection wasn’t strong enough yet for him to catch more than the occasional thought or emotion, especially when his guard was up. But that didn’t prevent the flow of magic between them. It washed over him like waves over sand, wearing away his resistance. Taking a piece of his control with it every time it ebbed away. Cursing, he threw his towel into the laundry basket and dressed with quick efficiency in worn jeans and a sweatshirt. As he tied his damp hair back with a strip of leather, he felt a jolt of annoyance from Jayne. Abruptly, he remembered his addition to her luggage and cringed.
    Endless moments passed before the expected knock on his door came.
    “Come in.”
    He braced himself but the woman who entered the room didn’t look angry. Instead she looked…happy. He frowned at her, confused by the mixture of happiness and sorrow she was broadcasting. She was close enough to touch and he balled his fists to prevent himself from doing just that. Her smile faded and she cleared her throat as though she too felt the building tension.
    “Why did you put the paint box in my bag?”
    “I don’t know, it was an impulse. I saw it under the bed and…” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, watching her warily. “You’re very talented, I wanted to see you paint.”
    “Thank you, maybe you will.” She laughed softly. “Cameron, you can stop looking at me like I’m an unexploded bomb. I’m not angry.” She took a step closer and laid her hand on his arm and he felt the contact go through him like electricity. “Oh, I was annoyed at first. I haven’t painted in a long time. It was a part of me I put aside for reasons I’m not even sure of anymore. But things are different now, I ’ m different now. I suppose you are partly responsible for that, so thanks.”
    She leaned forward and placed her lips on his. He froze, muscles trembling against instinct. He closed his eyes and felt the softness of her mouth and was