Page 9 of Enchanted Hero (The Secret Enchanters #1)

Eager eyes turned to him. He’d hoped the news would fade by now, but it had only increased with each investigative report.

There were just too many witnesses for it to be dismissed as a typical viral hoax.

Reporters, government officials and scientists called incessantly, asking questions he couldn’t answer.

If he hadn’t wielded the political power he did, they would’ve already called him in for official questioning.

They still might.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I didn’t see anything. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. People saw shadows and mistook it for a man.”

“Have you seen the video? I can play it if you want.” She held out her cell phone.

Alexander stopped her with a hand, softened it with a smile. “That won’t be necessary.” He turned to the others. “Thank you very much for your attention. We have some exciting changes coming, but for now just continue as before. Miss Lacey and I have much to discuss.”

The employees were warm and friendly as they departed. Everleigh watched him warily, accusing him without words of ulterior motives. She was right to be suspicious. He had more than one reason for staying.

He would learn what she knew about the relic.

He would find out what she saw during the tornado.

He would discover why she affected him.

Then he would decide exactly what to do about it.

* * * *

Alexander Stone was the most frustrating, infuriating, autocratic, handsome–

No, strike that last one. He was simply the most frustrating, infuriating, autocratic man in the universe.

It didn’t matter that he was an excellent businessman. That he’d been kind to the employees and clearly skilled in commerce. That he’d already infused much needed capital into the business, prompting higher-than-ever sales. He believed he could take over her life.

She’d planned a relaxing day at the movies with Sam.

After all, it was her first day off since Alexander Stone stormed into her life.

Was she at the movies? No. Popping popcorn in her mouth, alternately sipping a far too sugary drink and munching on the gooey candies that always got stuck in her teeth?

Nope. Had she gotten a respite from thinking about the man who infiltrated her business, life and mind?

Definitely not.

Instead, she was planted in the bonus/storage/rec room of her home, surrounded by piles and piles of antiques, relics and curiosities.

When Alexander asked her to spend Saturday working, she’d thought he was joking, yet he quickly disavowed her of the notion.

And what was so important she had to lose her weekend?

The blasted man needed a picture of every single relic, because apparently the pictures already on the website weren’t sufficient.

He needed to make sure none of the hundreds had been missed. Photographing them would take all day.

Ninety-five percent of the sales from New Age Treasures came from stock products such as books and candles, but people liked to browse the one-of-a-kind items. She pulled out the first piece, a small mirror rumored to belong to an ancient witch.

She snapped the picture, then moved on to a gnarled wooden rain stick.

It fell every time she tried to take the picture, and finally she caught a blurry shot.

Fifteen minutes later, she was ready to bop Alexander on the head with that stick.

Forget all day, it would take all week! Stepping on a stool, she reached for a large inkwell and pen set supposedly used to cast spells.

There was still ink in the large bottle, which made one wonder if it was not quite as old as the seller claimed.

She pulled on the bottle, but it remained firmly lodged between two large boxes.

She jerked harder, and it suddenly gave.

She tripped back, landing on her bottom – hard .

The bottle slammed into her lap, losing its rusty lid and splattering midnight ink everywhere.

“Ugh!” The gooey liquid covered her entire body, from her hair to her toes.

With a growl, she pulled off her dress, and even the bra and panties covered in thick black ink.

She clutched her ruined clothing. “That’s it!

If he wants a picture of every item, he can take them himself.

” She stepped back, aimed her smartphone and took one large photo.

She furiously typed a text message to accompany it.

“Here is everything you asked for. Are you satisfied now?” Hitting send, she threw down the ink-splattered phone and stalked to the bathroom.

Five seconds later, the cell beeped.

She should ignore it. Should not respond. Yet somehow she found herself returning, still naked, as she grasped the phone. She read slowly, “Very satisfied.”

Well, that didn’t make sense. “Is that what you wanted?” she texted back.

The response appeared immediately. “Absolutely. After all, I’m extremely possessive.”

She pursed her lips, typed her response. “You can’t keep them. They belong to the business.”

“I keep what is mine.”

Didn’t he understand the relics were for sale? Later, she would explain, but now she needed to end the strange conversation and take a shower. “I’m glad it meets your needs.”

“Actually, it’s created additional needs.”

“Additional needs?”

“Of course. You can’t send a picture like that and not expect a strong response.”

Her fingers hovered over the screen, but before she could type, the phone beeped again. “Did you look at the picture?”

She brought the phone closer, panning into the cluttered picture. The only visible items were relics, books, antiques–

She froze.

The mirror she’d first photographed was in the foreground, its angle just right to show a clear and crisp image. Small and unnoticeable on the phone, it would be many times magnified if viewed on a computer. It reflected her…

Wearing nothing but ink.

She stood outside the door to his office.

For twenty minutes.

And counting.

A dozen times she’d raised her hand to knock; a dozen times she’d lowered it.

How do you explain sending a naked picture to your colleague? Would he think she did it on purpose? Did he believe it was a game, a mockery, an invitation ? Would he imagine her naked body covered in ink every time he looked at her?

Her phone beeped. She’d considered throwing the thing out the window, but the act of defiance would’ve been far too costly. “How long are you going to stand outside my office?” the text read.

She stiffened.

Another beep. “Take all the time you need. I’m just curious.”

“Why that little–” She didn’t bother knocking, before shoving open the door and striding into the office.

Alexander stood in the middle of the room, straight and tall, devastatingly handsome in his trademark Armani suit.

He folded his arms across his chest, pulling the shirt tight against taut muscles.

His expression was intense, his gaze the blade of a knife.

Was he imagining her naked, ink-covered body?

She swallowed, forced a strong voice. “How did you know I was there?”

“Magic.”

She glared at him. Did the man think to mock her interest in the mystical?

“Do you know why I called you here?”

Heat flared, threatening to consume her, as sweat slickened her body. She had to regain control. Perhaps if she imagined him wearing nothing but ink…

Six foot three inches of bare skin, solid muscles and ink. Sculpted plains, unending power. A broad chest, six-pack abs and under that…

The heat rose a thousand degrees.

“Are you okay?” The words were low, intense, knowing . He stepped forward, eating up the ground between them. She should retreat, but her muscles refused to respond as he stopped to tower before her. “You look very hot,” he whispered.

Oh yes, but not the kind he meant. She leaned in as blood rushed through her body, swelling her with desire. He looked ready to strip off her clothing, to see in real life what she’d already sent him virtually.

She closed her eyes, building strength against the man who would take all. She mustn’t forget who he was – Alexander Stone, one of the most powerful men in the world, a man who held scores of women at his beck and call. She would not be one of them.

She stepped back. “I’m fine.”

He peered closer. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath, prepared the speech she’d practiced a hundred times on the way here. “About the picture...”

“Yes, the picture,” he interrupted. “I admit I was surprised.”

She shook her head. “Not as much as I was.”

“Oh I doubt that.” He inched in, infiltrating her space. Even though he hadn’t acted overtly unprofessional, his power sliced through the room, as if he was marking his territory. “Of course, I knew the pieces would be outstanding, but I didn’t realize how stunning they would be.”

The breath caught in her throat.

“I must say.” He gazed directly at her. “I feel even better about my acquisition.”

She clenched her hands, digging sharp fingernails into her palms. Was he referring to the relics – or her ? “What exactly do you think you own?”

He looked down at her cell phone, and suddenly the picture was back up. She gasped. “I deleted that.” She hit the trash button. “I don’t know what you think you own, but this was all a mistake. I was taking pictures and ink spilled everywhere, so I– I–” She hesitated.

“Got naked.”

She cleared her throat. “Um, yeah. Then I snapped the picture, but I forgot about the mirror. I didn’t realize it showed…”

“You.” The temperature soared to solar levels. “Did you get it all off?”

She resisted the urge to fan herself with her fingers. “My clothing? Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Yes, it was.” His eyes blazed. “I meant the ink.”

Oh. My. Goodness. “Of course.”

“There’s a little on your back.”

“What?” He pointed to a sliver of skin between her skirt and shirt. She looked in the mirror, to a blot of ink she had somehow missed. She rubbed it, but it extended too high to completely reach. “Would you mind helping me?”

What had she asked?

For a moment surprise shone, but fiery satisfaction followed, as he moved forward.

She should’ve stopped him, yet she couldn’t move, could barely breathe as he splayed his hand on her back, warm and strong and powerful.

Though not an intimate spot, the mere contact brought desire deep in her belly, heat and raw need.

Somehow his touch was almost familiar. “I think I got it.”

She cleared her throat, fighting the desire threatening to consume her. She couldn’t let him affect her like this. “You need to stop getting so close.”

“Weren’t you the one who asked for help?” She flushed as he inclined his head. “The person who sent the picture?”

Goodness, did he think she meant to send it? “That was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course! I know you’re busy with a thousand socialites.

” His nostrils flared as she clamped her mouth shut.

Why had she said that? Technically, he hadn’t done anything inappropriate.

As he pointed out, she’d sent the photograph, asked him to touch her.

And now she kept imagining his naked body covered in ink.

“I see.” His voice was dark, low. “Did you send that picture to anyone else?”

Did he actually think she would? She shook her head.

“Good. Make sure you don’t. Let’s put it behind us for now.”

For now? She opened her mouth to argue, restrained herself. The best way to move past this would be to agree. But she would not end up his, not physically, not emotionally, not in any way. Of course, she’d said the same thing about her company. He’d stolen that. Would he steal her next?

“You’ll need to work next weekend.”

More time with the disconcerting man? No way. “I’m sorry, but I’m busy.”

He ignored her refusal. “Stone Holdings is one of the main sponsors of the big county fair, and the organizers have invited us to take part. I’ll need you Saturday for the ceremonies and the charity black-tie ball.”

The ridiculous temptation to say yes fired. “As I said, I won’t be able to make it. If it’s any consolation, several million women would happily take my place. I don’t even have a black-tie dress except the one I wore to your ball, and I wouldn’t risk someone recognizing it.”

“I’ll take care of your gown.”

“You want to choose my dress?” She lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t even know my size.”

His gaze penetrated her body. “I know your size.” As heat flared, he stepped closer. “Miss Lacey, are you certain you’re all right?”

“Perfectly fine,” she managed the utter lie. She cleared her throat. “But as I said, I won’t be accompanying you to the fair.”

“So you’re willing to accept the consequences of breaking our contract?”

“Are you serious?” She straightened to her (not so) towering height and pointed a finger at his (oh so) expansive chest. “That is ridiculous, and you know it. My job description does not include working all hours. I will not let you bully me.”

Instead of providing an immediate apology, the man only looked amused. “I’m no bully, but I am in control.”

“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “Why should I go with you?”

“Your job is to bring New Age Treasures into the national spotlight. The county fair attracts thousands of businesspeople, consumers and the news media. It’s the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the world stage.”

Darn. It made sense. This was the sort of publicity they needed to challenge their shifty competitor. As much as she longed to deny him, the cost of losing the opportunity for her company was too high. “Fine, I’ll go, but only for the business. Don’t think you’ll always get your way.”

“Of course not.” She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, his deep words stopped her, “Once you get to know me, you’ll find I’m actually one of the good guys.”

As she touched the golden knob, she whispered under her breath, “Yeah, right.”

Although it was impossible he could’ve heard, he chuckled. As she returned to her desk, she gave in to her puerile urge and stuck her tongue out.

Laughter rang through the door.

Maybe the man had magic after all.