Hot Spell. Michelle Rowen
to that suggestion. Do you know what keeps you bound here?”
“This is the only place we can be together,” Catherine replied, and there was sadness in her expression now.
“Are you open to leaving?”
“No. This is where we belong. Where we must stay. There is no other choice for us.”
Amanda scanned the area. Jacob had taken a step back, watching curiously as she spoke to the ghost he couldn’t see. “Where is the other ghost?”
“Right here.” A man walked directly out of the wall next to where Amanda stood. He was tall and handsome, with dark-blond hair and blue eyes. His gaze, though, was anything but friendly. The glare he directed at Amanda made chills run down her arms. “You need to leave us in peace.”
Catherine looked at the man and there was no doubting the affection in her eyes. “Nathan, please. I can handle this.”
He stiffened then turned to face her. “I only get to see you for an hour a day. I don’t want our time interrupted by these intruders.”
Her brows drew together. “I know. But it’s dangerous.”
His jaw tensed. “It’s always been dangerous for us.”
Then he reached out toward Catherine and she did the same. When their hands came within two feet of each other a flash of light appeared and the ghosts disappeared. At the same time, what felt like a bolt of electricity ripped through Amanda and she gasped out loud. Her knees buckled. She was sure she’d fall to the floor, but Jacob was there to catch her, keeping her on her feet.
“They’re cursed,” she managed after a moment. Her eyelids fluttered and she realized she may have blacked out for a moment. “The ghosts—they were involved romantically when they were alive, but couldn’t be together. They died at the same time, I think. Now they’re bound in this house together, but they can only see each other for short periods and they can’t touch.”
“Did they tell you this?” Jacob asked, his forehead creased deeply.
She shook her head. “I had a vision just now. It was blurry and disjointed but it was sort of like I was actually there, seeing with my own eyes what happened.” She inhaled sharply. “How horrible to be like that. To be able to be with the one you love but never touch each other.”
“Cursed spirits,” Jacob said. “Sounds like an exorcism is definitely required here.”
His arms were still around her and the hard line of his body pressing against hers was enough to pull her back to reality—mostly because it felt too good. “I’m okay now. You can let go of me.”
He released her immediately. “Sorry.”
She fumbled through her bag and pulled out a notebook in which she scribbled down as much as she could remember of her sudden vision of the two ghosts. She didn’t normally see with such clarity. Sure, she could see the ghost itself, talk to it, and try to come to some sort of an understanding. Sometimes the ghost could be convinced to leave the mortal world through a simple conversation. Exorcism was a worst-case scenario.
But visions were new. One more ability to add to her unwelcome repertoire. Great.
Maybe Nathan had murdered Catherine and then killed himself. Was that why they were being punished? She wasn’t sure. She’d only seen glimpses. Some kind of magic had been involved here.
It didn’t matter. The bottom line was they’d confirmed ghostly activity in the house and the owner wanted that taken care of.
The ghosts hadn’t been violent, which was good. But that sense of despair and desperation to touch each other—
A chill went through her.
“I know I haven’t been much help so far,” Jacob said. “Sorry about that.”
She looked up to see his forehead was furrowed. “Forget it. You can’t see what I see.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Don’t say that. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Says you.” He sighed. “To be able to do what you do? That’s a gift.”
“Curse.”
“Gift.”
She forced a tight smile on her face. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point.”
He didn’t try to argue any more about that, which was a nice change. She couldn’t help but smile inwardly at his reaction. Most of the other PARA agents Amanda had been teamed up with over the years had a very matter-of-fact way of dealing with the unusual stuff. Like it was normal for them. Average. Almost boring.
Jacob looked at it as though it was amazing. Then again he’d only discovered his psychic abilities a couple of years ago. He hadn’t had to deal with them for decades.
Curse. Definitely.
They moved through the living room and Amanda pulled at a corner of the plastic covering the sofa.
“I think this sofa is original,” she said. “Well over a hundred years old.”
“Antiques Roadshow would have a field day in here.”
She ran her fingers lightly over the dark material underneath. More images came to her mind and she gasped.
“Hey,” Jacob said. “Are you getting something?”
She nodded. “Definitely something.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t…I don’t know yet…” She tried to see past the fog, worried she was going in too deep and beginning to pull away, but the vision was suddenly there in front of her again, this time as clear as day.
Catherine was leading Nathan into the room. He was reluctant to follow but helpless to her charms. He found her so beautiful; too beautiful to resist, even though she was the wife of his employer. Ever since the other night at midnight when they’d first made love, he had been unable to think of anyone else.
“This isn’t right,” he murmured in a feeble attempt to stop her.
“Shh,” she silenced him with another kiss.
“Your husband—”
“Please, Nathan…I want you so much…”
Her hands found the buttons on his pants and she undid them one by one until she freed his erection. As she slid her tongue along his length he was completely helpless to her.
He loved her with all his heart and soul. He knew he didn’t deserve her, but wanted to be with her like this always. Every time they made love was better than the last. The feel of her body clenching him as he drove into her, his hands on her breasts, his mouth swirling over the peaks of her nipples as he thrust himself into her slick heat—
“Amanda—” she heard Jacob say from a million miles away, but she couldn’t drag herself out of the vision, her body on fire as she sank into the deep, warm pool of passion from memories that didn’t belong to her. The vision was of bodies moving together, gasps and soft moans, as Catherine and Nathan made love.
A clock chimed. Twelve times. It was midnight.
It was significant, that clock. Amanda tried to focus on it—a large black grandfather clock with an ivory face that stood against the wall.
Catherine let out a soft cry, arching her back, her breasts flattening against Nathan’s hard-muscled chest as he brought her to orgasm.
And then a blur. A flash. And they were apart. It was later, but Amanda couldn’t tell how much later. The clock was now obscured by the shape of a man. A murderously jealous husband. Words were spoken, threats and curses thrown out.
“You’ll never touch her again.”
There