Untamed

“Excuse me.” Frost tinged her voice, her eyes. “Perhaps I should go upstairs and change into my red lace teddy and hooker high heels.”

Oddly enough, although she was practically spitting ice chips at him, Gavin was enjoying himself. “As appealing as that might be, it would also be a bit intimate. Since we’ve just met. But you could loosen up just a little.”

He tossed back the brandy, then closed the gap between them. “Unbutton a couple of buttons so the collar isn’t choking you to death.” Without asking permission, he did exactly that. When his fingers brushed the skin framed by the now-open neck of her white blouse, Tara stiffened. “And next time tell the cleaners to go easier on the starch.” He frowned at the stiff pleated front. “A bulletproof vest would probably be softer than this.”

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. “My choice of clothing is none of your business.”

“I suppose that’s true. In theory.” Gavin rubbed his chin. “But it offends my artistic sensibilities to see a woman working overtime to hide her beauty.”

Before she could respond to that outrageous statement, a sudden crash shattered the silence, followed by the sound of breaking glass.

4

TARA SCREAMED as the glass from the leaded front window came flying into the room.

Gavin shouted a raw, pungent curse and tore out of the room. She heard the front door open, heard his footfalls as he ran across the front porch. Her first coherent thought was that her grandmother was playing a trick from the world beyond. But blowing in windows wasn’t Brigid’s style.

She’d be more likely to call down the moon than try to terrify her granddaughter into a man’s arms. Then Tara spotted the rock lying on the flowered carpet, a rock she knew that had landed there not by magic, but by very mortal means.

Suddenly concerned that Gavin was putting himself in danger just to impress her, she took off after him and arrived at the front door just as he was dragging two obviously terrified boys up the porch steps by their shirt collars.

“My cellular phone is on the table in the kitchen,” he told her. “Call 9-1-1 and have the sheriff come out and pick these two up for vandalism.”

“It wasn’t vandalism,” the larger of the boys insisted. “Not exactly.”

Gavin shook him. “Look, kid. You purposefully broke a window, just for the hell of it. What would you call it?”

“A dare,” the other boy insisted in a voice that sounded perilously close to tears. “Eddie Rollins double dog dared us to break the window. Said we didn’t have the nerve.”

“Since when does it take any nerve to throw a rock through the window of an abandoned house?” Gavin demanded.

“It takes a lot of guts,” the other boy insisted. “’Cause everybody knows the Delaney place is haunted.”

“You sure about that?”

“The old lady was a witch,” the boy answered. “Makes sense it’d be haunted.”

“Haunted or not, it doesn’t give you the right to go destroying property that isn’t yours.” He tossed them onto the porch swing. “Don’t move.” Then he looked up at Tara. “I thought you were going to call the sheriff.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary?” she asked, glancing at the two boys who were trying to look rebellious, although it was obvious that they were scared to death of this furious, glowering man.

“Dammit, lady, in case it escaped your attention, there’s glass all over your grandmother’s parlor floor. If you’d been another foot closer to that window, you could have some of those shards embedded in your face.”

“I certainly wouldn’t have enjoyed that.” She folded her arms and studied the two young vandals again. “But I’m not certain that it’s necessary to involve the sheriff.”

“They’ve been pulling stunts like this for the past six months. It’s gotten damn expensive replacing the windows and I think it’s time they acted more responsibly.”

“I’m all for responsibility.” She paused. Her eyes slanted, she rocked back on her heels and chewed thoughtfully on a thumbnail. “But I believe that, along with having them pay for the damage, we can take care of this little problem ourselves, Gavin.”

A ghost of a smile played at the corners of her lips. “Did I mention that I inherited many of my grandmother’s powers?”

As angry as he was, Gavin couldn’t help smiling as he followed her train of thought. “Actually, I don’t believe that came up.”

“Well, although they’ve definitely proven to be a mixed blessing, I did. Which I suppose, if one wants to be annoyingly technical, makes me a witch, as well.” She flashed the boys the type of spellbinding trust-me smile that Gavin figured the wicked witch had used to lure Hansel and Gretel into her gingerbread cottage.

“I’m afraid I’m flat out of eye of newt, but I believe I saw some goat’s blood in the refrigerator. And some dried rattlesnake skin. And, of course, grandmother always kept chicken entrails in the freezer for just such occasions.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Yes, I think there are enough supplies on hand to weave a lovely black spell.” She leaned down and ran her hand over the top of the older boy’s head, ruffling his dark hair. “How would you like to be turned into a lizard?”

She flashed another smile as she turned to his companion. “With your pointy little ears, I rather see you as a bat,” she decided. “Tell me, dear—” she trailed her hand down the side of his face “—are you afraid of the dark?”

“Of course he’s not,” Gavin said, getting into the spirit of things. “After all, he’s running around out here in the woods in the middle of the night. I’d say he’s probably part night creature already.”

“That was my impression, as well,” Tara agreed. “So it’s settled.” She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I do so love turning people into reptiles. And it’s been ages since I turned any boy into a bat.” She sighed. “I’d almost forgotten how much fun it is.”

“Want me to go light the Black Sabbath candles?” Gavin suggested.

“Thank you, Gavin. I’d appreciate the assistance. Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind, could you please get my cauldron down from the top shelf in the kitchen?”

“No problem.”

“Fine. Then we can get started. Ready for an adventure, boys?” She reached out, as if to take their hands.

“Well,” Gavin said as the boys streaked past them as if the devil himself were on their tails, “I’d say you settled that little problem. Although it’s a good thing you’re not going to stay. Because by this time tomorrow the word will be all over the country that Brigid Delaney’s granddaughter is a witch.”

“Perhaps I’ll have to tune-up my broomstick and buzz the courthouse before I leave.”

She was kidding, Gavin reassured himself as he followed her into the house. It was just a joke. Like the one she’d played on those kids.

Tara was standing in the middle of the rug, looking down at the pieces of broken glass. “It’s going to be difficult cleaning this up in the dark. I suppose it can wait until morning.”

“That’d probably be best,” he agreed. “There’s some plywood outside in the back. I’ll nail it over the window until I can replace the glass tomorrow. Luckily, I’m getting pretty handy at this.”

She glanced up at him with a surprise that he did not think was feigned. “Then you were telling the truth earlier? This happens often?”

“Often enough.” He rubbed his jaw. “You really didn’t read my letters, did you?”

“No.”

“Any special reason?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed as she decided there was no point in trying to convince him that they’d all gotten lost in the mail. “It’s difficult to explain.”

Gavin didn’t press her for an explanation. She didn’t sound all that eager to unburden herself, and frankly, he didn’t care why she’d chosen to stay away from Whiskey River.

“Relationships can get a little sticky in the best of families,” he said mildly.

“You can say that again.”