Wicked Magic by Cheyenne McCray Page A

lipstick—which she never wore—rolled under the desk. A wallet and coins scattered everywhere, along with other things Mackenzie had shoved into it to give Rhiannon enough time to do what she needed to do.
    Great. That … witch had stuck a condom package and a tampon in the purse as well.
    Predictably the man squatted down to help her pick up the items, and she saw the quirk of his mouth when he spotted the condom. Rhiannon snatched it up and stuffed it back into the purse. Oh, great. Just how low could things go before this mission was complete?

    As she leaned down to grab the tube of lipstick from beneath the desk, he shocked her speechless when he “accidentally” brushed one of his hands against her nipple.
    Well, all the better. Rhiannon choked back her anger, leaned into him, and grasped his arm as if to steady herself. She planted the patch on the sleeve of his suit jacket with one press of her finger.
    Rhiannon gave him a seductive smile. “So sorry,” she said, easing to her feet with the now refilled and tightly closed purse. She nearly fell against him when she wobbled in the freaking stilettos.
    He rose up to meet her and was standing close, waaaaaay too close. “The job is yours, Ms. Smith. When can you start?”
    Rhiannon took a couple of steps back. She hadn’t expected that . “I—I’ll need a few days.”
    He’ll be dead within one.
    â€œMonday, then.” He took her hand, held it between both of his, and she shuddered.
    Her skin crawled and she pictured him as one of the many demons who had kept her in captivity until Silver, Hawk, and Jake had saved her.
    She yanked her hand back and he gave her an odd look.
    Rhiannon regained her composure and tried to appear pleased. “Sure. Monday. Thanks.”
    Rhiannon moved across the office to the door on her unsteady heels, but the demon beat her to it and held it open. She managed a half grimace, half smile as she hurried past him, calling out another “Thanks” over her shoulder. Wouldn’t do to have the demon suspect her.
    As she passed through the reception area, Cookie Woman gave a condescending look over her computer monitor.
    Rhiannon couldn’t resist a small flick of her fingers.
    The last thing she heard as she walked out the lobby’s glass doors was the receptionist’s cry of dismay as her computer screen fizzled.
    It was good to be a witch.

    â€œWhat in the Gods’ names?” Keir nearly roared as he tried to stare Mackenzie down, his hand gripping his sheathed dagger. “You allowed her to go to the demon? Alone?” Blood pounded in his veins at the thought of Rhiannon so close to one of the Fomorii.
    The petite blond’s blue eyes appeared thoughtful as she studied him. Mackenzie was sitting in the apartment building’s common room, where she’d been thumbing through what he had learned was a New Age magazine.
    â€œYou’ve really got to get over yourself.” Mackenzie shifted her gaze back to the magazine and flipped another page. “Goddess knows you’ve got the hots for her, but she sure doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you.”
    Keir gave another low growl.
    Rhiannon sailed into the room and Keir’s scowl deepened. Her hair was black instead of the usual dark shade of red and she had some kind of paint on her face, hiding her beautiful freckles.
    But what she was wearing—a formfitting skirt and a blouse that nearly bared her breasts—made his cock hard and his blood boil. The idea of any other man seeing her body like this infuriated him.
    â€œHey, Rhi.” Mackenzie dropped the magazine and rose to her feet. “How’d it go?”
    Rhiannon barely spared Keir a glance but gave Mackenzie a smug look as she circled her hand above her hair, changing the deep black shade to auburn again, then made the same circular motion in front of her face, causing the makeup to