[Magic Sisters 05] - Safe Harbor Read online

  The lighthouse would be deserted and it would be easy enough for Jonas to get permission to go there. If they could really sneak away, it would be such a relief to have a few hours when she wasn't feeling trapped. And she loved being with Jonas. It was really that simple. She needed time to sort herself out, but she loved every moment in his company. "Do you think we could really get away with it?"

  There was hope in her voice. Jonas flashed her another cocky grin. "Tomorrow night I'll sneak you out," he promised.

  "Sarah will have a fit," Hannah warned.

  "No she won't. She knows you can't stay cooped up in the house and you can't go in public, so this is the next best thing. No one will think of looking for you there. You'll be safe, Sarah will approve, and I'll get to wonder whether or not you're wearing thong underwear or nothing at all."

  "You're awfully obsessed with my underwear," she teased.

  "Or lack of," he admitted. "I think about it more than I should."

  She glanced up at the honesty in his voice. How in the world could that simple admission make her hot all over? "Let me assure you, I almost always wear underwear." She had to clench her teeth together to keep from laughing at his expression.

  "Almost always? That's just wrong, Hannah. Now I'm never going to have a moment's peace around you."

  She looked smug. "I know."

  Jonas laughed, the sound deep and real, filled with amusement and making her heart soar. She did a small dance pattern in the sand, throwing out her arms, for a moment forgetting entirely she was disfigured and someone hated her enough to kill her. She glanced at the sky. "We could probably build a sand castle before the fog is gone."

  "We don't have any tools."

  "Tools?" She gave a sniff of disdain. "Amateur."

  "You did not just call me an amateur."

  "I did. You build your sand castle over there. You have twelve minutes. That's it and we have to go."

  He was already crouching down, digging for wetter sand. She was on her knees doing the same. A few minutes later, when Jonas glanced over at her, she was cheating, directing little wind flurries to etch out the castle walls. He opened his mouth to call her on it, but she looked so absorbed, a child playing, carefree and happy, and he wasn't about to interrupt even to tease her.

  Hannah dug her hands into the sand, absently guiding small bursts of wind to carve the castle. The sand felt good, earthy and grainy, the castle taking shape quickly. She formed a bridge over her moat by sending a spear of wind blasting a tunnel through the sand. It burst out the other side, spraying Jonas hard enough to sting him.

  She covered her mouth, muffling her laughter when he whirled around so fast he lost his balance and fell into the wet sand which he'd been carefully avoiding. "Poor baby. And your sand castle looks a little anemic." She leaned over to push her finger into the sloping side where the sand kept caving in. "You have to pack it solid, Jonas."

  He caught her arms and tugged until she lost her balance and fell across him. He took both wet, sandy hands and rubbed them dry on her denim-clad butt, leaving smears all over her bottom. "You deserve that for cheating."

  "I didn't cheat."

  "You used the wind."

  "I can't help it if it likes me and not you." She stayed sprawled across him, lifting herself up to look down into his eyes. "You're a beautiful man, Jonas Harrington. You really are." She brushed the hair from where it spilled across his forehead.

  "I'm glad you think so, Miss Drake."

  "If I kiss you after all, will you think I've lost my mind?"

  "Kissing doesn't mean we're going to have sex, Hannah."

  "I know, but you've given me…" She broke off. Hope. The word shimmered in her mind and she sent it to his. Laughter. She bent to brush a kiss on his chin. My life back. She kissed the corner of his mouth, rubbed her lips over his. I felt broken, Jonas, and you make me feel whole.

  She settled her lips over his, sliding her tongue shyly along the seam of his mouth, uncaring that he was seeing her face in the early dawn. She needed to kiss him, to find a way to show him she loved him. Because she did. Bone deep. Her entire heart. Even her soul. She poured her love into her kiss, opening her mind a little, wanting him to feel what he meant to her. Wanting him to know what he did for her. She could face her future. And she could be strong even when she felt as if she wanted to crawl into a hole.

  "You gave me that," she murmured against his mouth. "Thank you."

  He reached up to cradle her head, holding her to him. "I love you, Hannah. Whatever you need, I'll be it for you."

  She smiled into his eyes. "So the whole bossy thing was just an act?"

  "Of course, to impress you. And it worked." He lifted his head to cover the few inches separating them and captured her lower lip with his teeth, tugging gently. "Kiss me again."

  He didn't wait for her, taking the initiative, sliding his mouth over hers, gentle, tender, small kisses, like butterfly wings, over and over, rubbing her lips with his, teasing the corners of her mouth with his tongue, savoring her taste, slow and languid, taking his time, taking her with him on a journey of texture and taste. Of melting heat that began as a slow bum but grew hotter degree by deliberate degree.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, held her in place while he took her over, letting passion slip slowly past control into desire-laced love. When she didn't pull away, he pressed further, his mouth hot and demanding, deepening the kiss, storming her every defense. He had waited so long to claim her. She'd been too young, then he'd been gone, then he'd been too hard and wild, and then he'd made too many enemies. But he'd dreamt of her, his body aching, starving for just this—the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her silken skin beneath his hands, her body soft and pliant and belonging to him.

  She smelled like heaven to him, and she felt even better, with her breasts pressed tightly against his chest and his erection, thick and hard and so filled with need of her, pushing against her soft belly. Need was dark and hot, rushing through him like a tidal wave. Her mouth was velvet soft, just as hot and dark as his need. The edges of reason were beginning to blur. He let one hand drift down her face to her breast and his mouth followed. She flinched when he dragged his teeth across her breast.

  Instantly he pulled back, slamming the back of his head into the sand. "I'm sorry, baby. I got carried away and didn't think. What an ass."

  She framed his face with her hands and leaned down to brush a kiss across his lips. "You know something, Jonas? I forgot, too. For one moment, I was completely whole. You gave me a perfect moment. Thank you."

  He couldn't answer her. His body still throbbed with need and he was cursing himself for being an insensitive, selfish idiot. Her generosity was nearly his undoing.

  Hannah rolled over to lie in the sand beside him, breathing deep, her hand finding his. Trying to think of something safe to say, she stared up at the mist hanging thickly over their heads, trying valiantly to give them privacy. "What are you going to be doing today?"

  "Jackson and I are going to be checking to see if anyone filed a missing persons report. We'll take a boat out and look for bodies. He's trying to get evidence off the house and fence to see if we can identify anyone who was here last night. We'll do a sweep of the neighborhood. Damon and Sarah are your closest neighbors. Sarah was here and Damon said he was asleep, so no witnesses."

  "It's just as well. We don't really have the powers to make people forget what they see. I know you hated that last night."

  "It felt wrong."

  "Better you shoot them than the grounds and house protect us?"

  He frowned. "I don't like to call what you do magic. You're magical, but the rest—you have gifts. And you all try to use the gifts for good, but last night, it felt like magic. And the spirits in the house… we're never making love in there again. What if one of them was floating around?"

  She pressed her lips together tightly to keep from smiling. "It really did freak you out, didn't it?"

  "Give me a nice c
lean bullet anytime." He was silent a moment. "On the other hand, I never thought about the receiving end when you sent the wind to help me out when I was in San Francisco. I would have died in that alley without you. I was so focused on moving, staying on my feet and not making poor Jackson carry me, that I didn't think beyond that."

  "Neither did I. Someone was trying to kill you, Jonas, and I did whatever it took to protect you. Last night, you would have done whatever it took to protect us. And the house, and our ancestors, did whatever it took to make certain our lineage continues."

  "I know, baby" He gave a small sigh and sat up, climbing to his feet with his fluid grace and tugging her hand to help her.

  "Does it bother you what I can do?" The tinge of fear she felt showed on her face. She didn't bother to try to hide her feelings from Jonas. He always found out anyway.

  He leaned down to brush another kiss across her mouth. "It's so much a part of you, a part of your family, that there's no separating one from the other, Hannah. That's who you are. Believe me, sweetheart, I don't mind taking advantage when the bullets are flying."

  Hannah dusted the sand from his back and bottom and then turned to let him do the same. His hands lingered a little too long, shaping her butt, massaging when he could have just smacked the sand off. Just when she thought she'd have to object, when her body was reacting with a little too much heat, his hands slid away and he tucked her hair behind her ear, looking innocent.

  She shook her head. "I hope you enjoyed yourself."

  "Very much, thank you. Need any help with the front?" He'd been careful to keep the sand away from her wounds. "Maybe I should do an inspection."

  "Maybe you should start considering how we're going to get up the stairs to the house without a hundred zoom lenses taking shots of us." She pulled his jacket closer around her for protection.

  "That's your department, Hannah." He slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him as they began to walk back toward the house. "I could throw you over my shoulder in a fireman's carry and make a run for it, but they'd take pictures of your cute butt and plaster it from here to hell and back. That would make me angry and then I'd go punch one of them and lose my job, so I'm guessing you'll just have to do your thing, woman, and get us out of it."

  "Lose your job?" She grinned at him. "I wouldn't have to worry about you getting shot at ever again."

  "But then we'd starve."

  "Jonas, I made a pretty good living and most of it is in the bank or invested in very safe stocks. We aren't going to starve."

  "You're giving me a stomachache. I don't want to know that you have more money than me."

  She slapped his ribs hard. "You're such a chauvinist."

  "Absolutely. I'm supporting you while you stay home and raise our children. I don't want some stranger raising them. And I don't want them going to school at some obnoxious age just because they're smart. We're keeping them home and looking after them ourselves."

  "Is that what we're doing?"

  He glanced down at her. "Yes. Unless you have a better idea?"

  "That was my idea. I told you so when I was eight. You ignored me for that awful little Sherrie Rider. Thank God she moved away when she was ten. And she burped all the time. I have no idea why you found her interesting."

  "She played sports, Hannah. And you wanted to play dolls or something. Geez. Basketball or Barbies, come on."

  Her laughter flowed over him again, making him want to smile. "We're in the danger zone and your sisters are waiting for us. Are you ready, baby? Because I will carry you even if it means I have to share your butt with the photographers."

  "My hero. It won't be necessary, though." She lifted her arms toward the sky and began to move her hands in flowing patterns.

  He heard feminine voices in the wind as it rushed in off the ocean, driving the thick band of fog before it toward the surrounding bluffs. Birds took to the air, flying inland, swarming toward the cliffs and trees as Hannah and Jonas, hand in hand, sprinted up the stairs leading to the Drake home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "HANNAH, would you mind coming downstairs," Sarah called. "We'd like to do another healing session on you. Libby's feeling great. Jonas isn't here and the house is in protection mode, so we should have a few hours with no interruptions."

  Hannah closed her eyes briefly and tugged the blanket closer around her. Jonas had been gone all day, and why that depressed her, she didn't know. She'd detested being cooped up in her room, but where else could she go? If she went downstairs, everyone spoke in the hushed tones she'd come to despise. She couldn't say anything because she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. So she was holding a first-class pity party in her room and waiting for Jonas to come back and treat her normally again.

  "Hannah!" This time Sarah's voice was sharp and imperious, as only an eldest sister could manage. "Come down here."

  Hannah made a face at the door, feeling childish. Sarah could reduce them all to children when she was on a roll. It was easier just to go along with what she wanted than to try to argue. Hannah tossed her blanket on the bed and reluctantly opened the door of her bedroom. At once, familiar scents filled the air. The tea kettle whistled merrily and Joley's contagious laughter mingled with Libby's. Hannah stood in the hall for a long moment, breathing it all in. She loved them all so much—her sisters—even when they were killing her with kindness. And no one laughed like Joley. She could light up an entire city, let alone a room.

  Hannah descended the spiral stairs and discovered the lower story was lit only with candles. The scent of cinnamon and apple potpourri filled the air. The flickering light threw dancing shadows on the walls. She hoped that the candlelight also softened the effect of the wounds on her face.

  Already, her body was healing. Her sisters gathered twice a day, pushing themselves in order to boost her body's ability to recover. The wounds had closed and this afternoon she'd noticed the raw redness was already fading. Unfortunately, the healing sessions had little effect on the trauma. With Jonas next to her, she could sleep a little, but alone, she was terrified to close her eyes.

  Sometimes she tried to recapture the moment of the attack in an effort to give Jonas more details, but her mind didn't cope well with the trauma and steadfastly refused to provide anything else that might help him. The only thing she remembered with any certainty was the shocking slash of the knife. Although it made no sense, she could have sworn she remembered her attacker whispering an apology as he drove the knife into her again and again.

  Her sisters were gathered in the large living room, where they usually met in the evenings when they all came home. Most no longer resided full time in the family home. Sarah lived next door with Damon, and Kate and Matt had a house on the bluff by the old mill. Abbey and Aleksandr were purchasing a large two-story home overlooking the sea a mile down from the Drake house, and Tyson and Libby had an extraordinary home he had found for her up on a bluff surrounded by acres of private land. Only Hannah, Joley and Elle still used the family home as a permanent base when they weren't traveling.

  Hannah waved her hand at the fireplace and flames leapt to life. "I should have baked cookies earlier, but I didn't think about it," she greeted her sisters, forcing a cheerful smile.

  "That's okay," Kate said. "I made some myself." She arched a look over her shoulder at Joley. "All by myself."

  "Hey!" Joley objected. "I started the first batch and you kicked me out of the kitchen."

  "She set the oven on fire," Sarah explained.

  "It wasn't my fault," Joley said. "I put the cookies in the oven and just forgot I was baking. Did you know that cookies can turn to charcoal if they're in the oven long enough? And then they can actually catch on fire."

  "You caught the cookies on fire, Joley?" Hannah covered her mouth to smother a laugh, and looked away from her younger sister. For the first time since the accident, she felt more comfortable with her sisters, and she realized she couldn't feel overwhelming pity from them. If they fel
t it, they were careful to shield her from their emotions. They were acting much more normally, and teasing Joley was habitual. She just gave them so many opportunities.

  "Yes, actually I did, and they were surprisingly resistant to being fixed."

  Alarm spread. "You used magic to fix them?" Hannah cast a mock-terrified look around. "No one has eaten them, have they?"

  Her sisters shook their heads. Joley put her hands on her hips. "I'm not feeling the love here. I went to a great deal of trouble to try to fix those cookies; the least you could do is try one. What a bunch of chickens."

  "Joley, you can't fix burnt cookies with magic," Hannah said. "What spell did you use?"

  "I countered it," Elle said. "Sorry, Joley, but it was the only safe thing to do. Considering the mood you were in and the way you were muttering about Prakenskii, I was afraid your spell might take a wrong twist and turn the things into bombs or something."

  "It's okay, sweetie," Libby said, wrapping her arm around Joley. "At least your heart was in the right place."

  The girls tossed pillows on the floor and sank down in their familiar circle.

  "Speaking of Prakenskii, what's going on with you and him?" Hannah asked. "He asked me if you were a spell-singer. I didn't like that he might even know what that meant."

  There was a small silence while they all exchanged anxious looks.

  "He was almost possessive with you," Sarah added. "And to use up a personal favor just to get the name of the man you supposedly were photographed in a compromising position with in a tabloid, that's just plain crazy."

  Joley swept her hand through her hair. It was a bit shorter and a new color, not dark like Libby's anymore, but rich bands of red and dark brown with streaks of gold. Hannah touched her own hair, so difficult to work with, heavy enough to give her headaches, and wished she had the courage to do whatever she wanted with it the way Joley did. It was just that everyone loved her hair. It was so unusual, so beautiful, but then no one else had to cope with the tangles and weight of it.