Page 19 of Love Spell (Witches of London #3)

So Noah almost jumped when he walked into rich, savoury aromas, and Timo in the kitchen.

Timo turned at the sound and smiled like a floodlight. “Welcome home.”

Noah thought of slamming the door and going … where?

He slunk in, closed it after him. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“It occurred to me that you’ve been living here all week and we’ve yet to have a homemade meal together.”

“We don’t have to do that because this is just for —”

“So I said to myself, ‘What does Noah like?’ Old Russia, for some reason. I popped out to the shops and this has been cooking ever since. You’re in good time. We’re ready to put the noodles in soon. Change, relax, make yourself comfortable. Wine?”

“Timo —”

“I’d recommend a red.” He’d not changed into lounge clothes or even donned an apron, cooking in his spotless work shirt and trousers, jacket hanging across the back of a chair, tie gone and top few buttons of his shirt open.

He looked like the host of a mock cooking show titled something like Food Porn with Wolves .

Noah gulped. “What are we having?” No, idiot. That wasn’t what he was asking. He was storming in here to demand that Timo put all this right.

“I’m glad you asked.” Noah had never seen anyone so able to smile enough to show half his teeth while talking and making it look like a normal thing to do. “Beef Stroganov, or as you probably call it, Stroganoff. My mother’s recipe, formerly her mother’s recipe.”

You did not just pull the granny’s-recipe card.

“I thought beef Stroganoff was German,” Noah said.

“Afraid not. But I do have a classic Sp?tburgunder, now that you mention it. Should be a perfect pairing. May I pour you a glass?”

“Uh…” Why was it so hot in here? Was it the kitchen? Was it Noah? Had Timo deliberately turned up the thermostat so Noah would sit around in a T-shirt? True, September had been warm, but it was nippy now and it shouldn’t be this hot inside.

Dinner smelled outrageous. It was probably only the cooking that raised the temperature.

Noah had walked to the dining room table in the open-plan penthouse in a daze, nearly resting his hand on Timo’s wool jacket on the chair, before catching himself and shaking his head.

“No, thanks. I need to talk to you.”

“Please do. What would you prefer to drink? Are you sure you don’t want to change first? We can sit while this finishes off. Then I’ll just need ten more minutes and dinner is served.”

Was it rehearsed? Was it deliberate to throw Noah off his stride? Was it a self-serving way of stealing the spotlight? Look at you! While really saying, Look at me!

Looking into his eyes made everything worse. Timo’s smile never wavered from Noah’s face. A smile, an intensity, a slightly glazed joy, that Noah could best describe as besotted.

If Noah walked away to ditch the suit and tie, or got a drink, or so much as pulled out a chair, Timo would keep distracting him, on purpose or otherwise.

Before Timo could say another word, Noah said, “I just met with Julian.”

“Who?” Timo asked distractedly, standing by the kitchen island, one hand on the marble countertop, waiting for Noah to choose his beverage.

“The astrologer, Julian, in south London, just now.”

At last, Timo lost his smile, expression clouding. “That son of a bitch. Why?”

“I’ve been wanting a consultation, and I saw his webpage in your office a few hours ago. He had a free slot.” Noah stepped forward. “Why didn’t you tell me what’s really happening?”

“Nothing is happening. Did he spin you some fairytale of magic spells and love potions?”

“Don’t you dare belittle someone else’s beliefs. And don’t start telling me that his putting a love spell on you is fantasy either. I don’t know what to believe, but right now his explanation is the only thing that makes sense. The good news is that you can put all this right.”

“He’s the one who ‘cast a spell,’ but I can put it right?”

“Yes. You can go back to him, meet with him this weekend, and apologise.”

Timo waited a beat, as if to hear the rest of the sentence. Then, “Apologise for what?”

“Apparently for ridiculing him. I don’t know? Challenging his abilities, mocking his faith, whatever it is you said to him at the wedding you went to.”

Timo crossed his arms, leaning one hip into the counter.

His expression grew sanctimonious. “Noah, think about what you’re saying.

I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t owe anyone an apology.

Even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t go offering one to a man who thinks he’s put a curse on me when he’s done no such thing. ”

“No, you think about it. Are you under a spell? I don’t know. But I know that all it takes to find out is a quick text and a ten-minute meeting. Case closed. You have to see him.”

“I did see him. He told me to go fuck myself. Not that it matters because there is no —”

“You can at least try it!”

“We cannot allow ourselves to cave to bullies.”

“ You are a bully! All you have to do is say you’re sorry and put this right, for both our sakes, but you won’t do it, even for my sake.”

“Me?” Timo pressed a hand to his own chest, taking a theatrical step back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.

I’m strong-willed and know what I want. There’s nothing wrong with that.

But it doesn’t matter. The main point that you keep losing sight of is that there is no magic spell.

There is no potion. There is no curse. It’s just a wild story, like a fortune-teller or a medium.

Those people know how to get into your head but it’s all just a con —”

“Bullshit ‘not real’!” Noah yelled over him. “You never noticed I existed after the interview until one day, it was like being hit in the face.”

“Because I finally did notice you.” Now Timo opened his hands, shifting tactics to try his placating tone.

“What’s that they say about smelling the roses?

Well, I stopped and took a deep breath, and I noticed someone I shouldn’t have been overlooking.

These things happen. Am I a criminal for loving you? ”

Noah’s breath caught halfway down. He gripped the back of the chair and Timo’s jacket after all.

“You don’t.” Despite valiant efforts to keep his voice cold and firm, Noah knew he sounded breathless.

Timo was the one who sounded perfectly controlled. “I’m in love with you, Noah, and that’s on me. Not on a stranger’s magic spell.”

Noah pressed his fist against his own forehead for a moment, eyes squeezed shut. “You can’t really think you love me just like that — totally out of the blue.”

“Yes, I do.”

“But we don’t know if that’s real.” He looked at Timo. “We can never know if it’s real if you don’t go back to him.”

“ I know it’s real. I know what I feel.”

“Sure.” Noah’s shoulders sagged. “Because you’re just the kind of guy who’s super in touch with his emotions and skilled at communicating them to other people.”

Timo continued, “And I’ve got four weeks to prove it to you.”

What did he mean by that?

There was a pause while they only looked at one another in a kitchen basted in lusciously meaty aromas.

At last, Noah said, “You really think you can?”

“I’ll have a bloody good go.” Timo smiled.

To his own shock, Noah laughed, breaking razor-edged threads of tension that tracked between them. “You know, you just about swapped your Russian accent for an English one there.”

* * *

For another long moment, Timo simply looked at him, Noah looking anywhere else while Timo tried to catch his eye. Because who could resist Timo’s eyes? Noah, apparently.

“I still think it started with a spell,” Noah said quietly. “At least it’s possible. Wouldn’t it be arrogant to assume that something isn’t possible just because we don’t understand it?”

“Does it matter?”

“What?”

“Well …” Timo gave a little shrug. “Say I’m under a spell. I pissed off the wrong man and he’s taken out his anger on me. So what? Couldn’t we find an opportunity to turn a curse into a blessing?”

Noah chewed his lip.

“Tell you what.” Timo stepped closer, right up to him, and Noah did meet his eyes. “If you still doubt that I’m right for you by the time you’re leaving for the States, I’ll go back to him. I’ll go back and say I’m sorry and that can be that. If it’s really what you want in a month’s time.”

Except that it won’t happen because you’ll be mine by then. I’ll never, never, never go back.

Noah let out a held breath and again looked away, surely overwhelmed by Timo’s nearness and pure magnetism. Timo could tell Noah was resisting the impulse to rip off Timo’s partly open shirt right now by the way he kept looking at other things, his face flushed.

“Okay,” Noah said. “But then you’ll go back to him? When my time here is up?”

“If that’s what you want.” Timo inclined his head, all but turning it into a bow.

Noah nodded and sighed. “I … guess I’ll go change. Thanks for cooking.”

“My pleasure. I’ll just get the noodles in and finish everything up now.” Timo offered his sweetest smile. Too bad it was wasted since Noah was already turning away. It was a real charmer, too.

Not to worry. Noah would see plenty of it over their dinner date.