Blonde With A Wand Part 22

Anica knew what words usually followed the kind of emotion-packed s.e.x they'd just had. She couldn't speak for Jasper, but she wasn't ready to say those words, in spite of how he was looking at her, in spite of how she was no doubt looking at him. Given the intensity of their situation, she didn't believe either of them could trust the urge to pledge undying love.

He needed her in order to survive, which had to be coloring everything he did. She needed him to recover her magic, something that became more urgent every day she was without it. Of course she'd feel she needed him. But once the crisis was over, what would bind them together?

The s.e.x was great, no question. Yet even the s.e.x had to be more intoxicating when they were involved in such high drama. When you knew that your lover would turn into a cat within the next four hours, you tended to make good use of your time. You tended to cherish every moment when he was human and capable of giving and having o.r.g.a.s.ms.

So she wouldn't say the words that would come so naturally to her now. And she'd fix it so he wasn't likely to blurt them out, either. First step, break eye contact. She glanced down at the counter supporting her. "That was fun. This counter is st.u.r.dier than I thought."

"Um, yeah. Anica, I-"

She forced herself to smile as she deliberately lightened her tone. "Quite a multifunctional thing, this counter. I just hope you don't have flashbacks of this at mealtime."

"Ha. Very funny."

Her heart broke watching his radiant expression fade. But one of them had to watch out that they didn't head into an emotional ditch. This time she'd accepted that a.s.signment. Someday he might look back on this moment and be grateful that she'd broken the mood before either of them said something they'd regret.

He eased away from her with a crooked smile. "That's the thing about cats. We live in the moment."

She gazed at him in shock, her eyes recording a smile that reached in without warning and captured her heart. His soft words finalized the takeover, and she was suddenly, irrevocably, his.

Dear Zeus, I do love him. The knowledge punched her in the chest and she gasped softly. She loved him, and she'd ruined the moment when she could have told him so.

Maybe they wouldn't make it once the problems were solved. So what? They could have shared words of love now, in the moment, and let the future take care of itself, which it always did, anyway.

How ironic that an impulse had landed her in this mess and an impulse might have made it all worthwhile, if only she'd had the courage to go with her first instinct. Now the chance was lost, possibly forever. She suspected that a man like Jasper didn't open up very often, and once discouraged from sharing his tender thoughts, he might never try again.

When he left for the bathroom, she scooted down from the counter, determined not to cry as she fastened her bra and b.u.t.toned her sweater. She stepped out of her torn panties and threw them in the trash.

All the while, Jasper's face haunted her. She could see the adoration in his golden eyes, the softness of his expression once his fierce climax had ebbed. He'd been a man in love, a man on the verge of declaring that love.

She, on the other hand, was a total idiot worried about making mistakes. That a.n.a.l behavior had caused her to make a gigantic mistake, and now she would pay for it.

But she vowed that if she could be lucky enough to have a second chance to tell him how she felt, she'd grab it with both hands.

"Bathroom's free," he called from the living room. "I have some work to do on the computer."

"That's fine." She wondered if they'd be like this for the rest of the time he was in human form tonight-casual friends respecting each other's need for s.p.a.ce. It was very catlike behavior on his part to back off and claim his own territory.

As she walked down the hall toward her bedroom, she thought again about what he'd said. That's the thing about cats. We live in the moment. He hadn't said they live in the moment. He'd said we.

It made sense that after a while he'd begin to identify with his cat persona. She found that intriguing, one more thing to add to the list of reasons why she was fascinated with Jasper Danes. Too bad she'd deliberately driven a wedge between them, but she couldn't repair that situation easily, if ever.

She spent way too much time trying to decide what to wear for the rest of the evening. Whatever she put on was either too dowdy or too obviously calculated to turn him on.

In some ways she envied him having only one outfit. He didn't have to worry about what kind of signals he was sending. He had two settings-dressed and undressed. She had at least twenty possible variations, from Victoria's Secret to L.L. Bean and everything in between.

Finally she chose a purple knit lounge outfit that was soft enough to sleep in. Once that was decided, she had to deal with the underwear issue. To wear or not to wear, that was the question.

She settled on a definite yes for panties. If she spent much time walking around the apartment without any on, she'd work herself into a frenzy of l.u.s.t. A woman couldn't be expected to go without panties when a s.e.xy man was on the premises and not want to jump him. But she could skip the bra, couldn't she?

And yet the top half of her sweat suit was a zip-front jacket. Spending four hours knowing she was one zip away from flas.h.i.+ng her t.i.ts at him would probably send her into hormonal overdrive in the same way a lack of panties would. She found a white tank top in her drawer and put that on under the jacket. Then she left the jacket unzipped, because after all, she didn't want to seem uptight.

By the time she left her bedroom she was doing a mental eye roll. Life wasn't supposed to be this complicated, and it wouldn't be if she hadn't stopped him from speaking what was in his heart. At this point they could have been relaxed and open with each other. Instead he'd probably stuffed his feelings down as far as they would go.

He sat at the computer with a cup of espresso on his right and the open bag of brownies on his left. Then she remembered what else she'd purchased on the way home and dropped into the brownie bag. The box of condoms rested on top of the terminal.

Now, that was funny. She couldn't help smiling as she watched him typing away with a box of condoms balanced front and center at the top of the screen. The box hadn't been carelessly tossed there. It had been placed there with precision. At least he hadn't given up the idea of having s.e.x with her. That was something.

"I see you found my other contribution," she said.

"Uh-huh." He kept typing. "Didn't want to lose track of them, either."

"I see that."

He clicked the SEND b.u.t.ton for his current e-mail, reached for the box and turned toward her. "I appreciate your buying these." His gaze traveled over her outfit. "Nice."

"Thanks." Oh yeah, she was hooked on him. One warm look, one word of praise and she was tingling with pleasure.

"These should probably go in that drawer where you keep them." He tossed her the condom box.

She caught it one-handed. "You don't want to leave them up there as a carrot?"

His golden gaze held hers. "You're the carrot."

"Oh." Heat sizzled in her veins. "Then I'll just go put these where we'll know to find them later."

"Or sooner. I'm about done here."

"Weren't you going to read through some of my magic books?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "I like to read in bed."

"All righty, then." Feeling positively juicy with antic.i.p.ation, she hurried back to the bedroom, quickly opened the box and dumped the contents loose in the drawer. Might as well make the process simple.

She returned to the living room and walked over to the desk. "Checking on your work e-mails?"

"I probably should." He kept typing. "But I can't get excited about doing that."

"Really?" She didn't want to be nosy and read over his shoulder, so she picked up a brownie and walked back to the sofa. "I thought your job was very important to you." She took a bite of the brownie.

"I thought so, too." He clicked the SEND b.u.t.ton again and pushed back the chair. "All done. Do you need the computer for anything?"

"No. You can turn it off." She was still processing his comments about work. This was a guy who used to come into Wicked Brew charged up about the latest developments in the national and international economy. He'd have the Wall Street Journal tucked in his briefcase and check his BlackBerry for breaking market news while he was waiting for his coffee.

Standing, Jasper carried his coffee mug and the bag of brownies over to the coffee table. "I don't mean to be all mysterious about what I was doing on the computer." He set down the bag and mug and gazed at her.

"You don't have to tell me. I respect your right to privacy."

"You're the person I should tell. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have sent those e-mails."

For one nauseating moment she wondered if he was capable of having s.e.x with her one minute and tras.h.i.+ng her business reputation the next. No, she was being paranoid. His feelings had changed and she didn't have to worry about that anymore. She hoped.

"Then maybe you should tell me." The love she felt for him was new and untested, and she didn't completely trust him not to destroy her.

"I e-mailed my last three girlfriends."

She hadn't expected that at all. Three. The way he said it made them all sound fairly recent, or at least recent enough that they'd have the same e-mail address. If Anica tried to contact her last three boyfriends, she'd be going back five years. Lily had called it-Jasper was a player.

Feeling a little out of her league, she gazed at him. "Why did you e-mail them?"

"To apologize for being a complete jerk. Just like you, they didn't deserve to be lied to. It was time I told them so. Sheila and I've only been broken up three weeks, but Kate was a good six months ago, and Deb was-G.o.d-almost a year."

So he didn't have a history of long-term relations.h.i.+ps. Good to know. But as for this recent move on his part, Anica couldn't help be nervous. "Do you . . . want to go back to any of them?" She held her breath.

"h.e.l.l, no! I left each of them because I realized we weren't as good together as I'd thought we'd be."

He might come to feel the same way about her, and she had to accept that. "Did you tell them that in this latest e-mail?"

"Why would I say that? I don't want them to feel bad all over again. This is supposed to be about healing old hurts."

"Or creating new ones." Anica sighed. "You don't want them to get their hopes up, Jasper. Um, did you notice that Sheila gave me her business card?"

"Yep. It was seeing her card that got me thinking about this idea." He sounded very proud of himself.

"Do you have any idea why Sheila gave it to me?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "She's a consultant for a window covering company. I thought maybe she was drumming up business."

Anica didn't like revealing another woman's vulnerabilities, but Jasper needed to understand the impact he'd had on his former girlfriends. "She was trying to drum up you."

"I don't get it."

"She still wants you, Jasper. She told me if I wasn't interested, to let her know so she might be able to catch you on the rebound."

"But I made it clear that I-"

"Doesn't matter." Looking at him standing there, confused, rumpled and so very s.e.xy, she had no trouble imagining that women would forgive him anything if they could have one more round of s.e.x, one more chance to convince him they were the perfect match.

"Sure it does. We said our good-byes and that was that."

"People change their minds all the time. Sheila hopes that you'll change yours, and she'd love to help that process along by coaxing you back to her bed."

Jasper groaned. "Maybe that happens with other guys, but not me. When I leave, I leave for good. No do-overs."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He met her gaze. "I haven't left you, Anica."

"No, but it's a good bet that you will once my magic comes back. Admit it, the magic freaks you out."

"It used to." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks as if uncomfortable with the topic but determined to discuss it, anyway. "You said yourself that witches and wizards are pledged to do no harm."

"That's true. We are." If she'd gotten that much across, then she'd done the magical community a favor. Not many nonmagical people accepted that basic premise. They still thought of witches as evil.

"I've seen how that works. You broke the rule and you lost your magic."

"Yes."

"So like you said, I don't have anything to be afraid of from you other than the usual man-woman stuff like rejection, misunderstanding, power struggles, hogging the bathroom mirror, using my razor to shave your legs-stuff like that."

She thought he might be saying that he no longer saw her witch status as a problem. Funny how that was the issue they'd started with on Monday night, and now, apparently, it wasn't an issue anymore. No, they now had other issues.

First there was the obvious physical problem of whether he would ever revert permanently to his human form. A great deal depended on that, and there were no guarantees. Then they had to wonder whether they'd want to spend time with each other if he did regain his status as a man. Finally, there was the biggie, the super-duper issue of all-whether, if after all that transpired, they could trust each other with their hearts.

But they'd wandered off the track and she knew a time bomb could be ticking away inside that computer. "You need to send more e-mails," she said.

"I do?"

"Yes. You must e-mail each of those women and let her know that you have no intention of getting back together. You can wish her well, and apologize again for the initial lie you told to get her in bed, but make sure she understands this isn't an invitation to reunite."

"They won't think that's what it was."

She gazed at him and shook her head. "You may understand more about cats than ever before, but you still have a lot to learn about women."

As if to make that point, a m.u.f.fled cell-phone tune sounded in the apartment. Anica recognized "Brown-Eyed Girl."

"That's my BlackBerry," he said. "Where is it?"

"I left it in the pocket of your wool coat." She motioned toward the coat closet by the front door. "It's in there."

"d.a.m.n."

"Someone you know?"

"Sheila." He made no move toward the coat closet.

"You need to answer it, Jasper. If she's calling you at this hour of the night, immediately after you sent her an e-mail, she's in a world of hurt. She's misinterpreted what you said in the e-mail."

Jasper looked like a man going to an execution as he walked over to the coat closet. But he did it. Opening the door, he reached inside the pocket of his coat, pulled out the BlackBerry and answered it.

"Hi, Sheila," he said. "I . . . uh . . . didn't expect you to call."

Anica thought she should duck out on this conversation. She was halfway to the kitchen to get coffee when Jasper caught her by the wrist. She turned and looked into his eyes.

"No, Sheila, that's not why I e-mailed you," he said.

Anica didn't have to be a mind reader to interpret his pleading glance. He wanted her to stay for moral support. He might even want her to feed him lines.

He cleared his throat. "No, the e-mail was only meant to let you know that I'm sorry for the way I began it." He winced at something Sheila must have said, looked at Anica and mouthed the word Help.