Another ghost. That’s the last thing she needs.
Nikki sees ghosts. She talks to ghosts. She tries to help ghosts.
But when her latest ghostly good deed leads her to a ridiculously attractive, knife-wielding member of the Dark Guards, who also happens to have his very own personal angry phantom companion, her first reaction is to run. It doesn’t matter that Mr. Tall, Dark and Knife-Happy is sexy as sin and the first warlock she’s been attracted to in forever.
But she doesn’t run far enough or fast enough to evade him.
And now that he’s found her, all she wants to do is kiss him… and she’s pretty sure his ghost won’t like that one little bit.
EXCERPT
As he considered her words, his thumb dragged over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth slightly, wishing she was bold enough to slip her tongue out to taste him. But she wasn’t. And the whole time, his gaze stayed locked on hers. The air felt charged around them—between them, everywhere—zinging through her, radiating out from the places where they touched. As if somehow, even in the confines of the iron room, they had created their own magic, something so powerful that the air sizzled.
“Can I kiss you again?” His voice was gruff. Deep.
She nodded. Such a miniscule movement. But he saw it, or felt it, or something… because then he drew closer. Her heartbeats fluttered in her chest like a frightened bird was trying to break free.
When his lips met hers, a strange inarticulate noise of longing escaped her. Embarrassment flooded her. For about half a second. Then she felt his lips move against hers, like he was smiling…
And then…
All thoughts flew from her mind as something deep inside seemed to click into place and whispered the most beautiful word.
Mine, mine, mine…
And she never wanted it to stop.
The hand on her cheek slid around to cup her neck and hold her close. He licked her lips and she opened to him. His tongue brushed hers. Her hands found their way to his upper arms and gripped him tight. A swirl of sensations spiraled through her—the taste of coffee on his tongue, the scent of his woodsy cologne, the feel of his hard muscles beneath her fingers, the explosion of colors that erupted behind her closed eyelids, the sound of his groans as he deepened the kiss. What should have been a simple kiss—a meeting of lips and mouths and tongues, something she’d done with other men before him—was not simple at all. Her blood heated. Her body came alive. Thought gave way to instinct.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. Their panting breaths mingled in the heated air between their lips. His grip on her tightened, like he was trying to regain control.
“You’ve bewitched me,” he whispered.
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an accusation, so she said nothing.
They stayed like that—forehead to forehead—for several long moments. A strange kind of serenity flowed over her. She’d never felt anything like it. Was it him? It couldn’t be magic, not in here, so what else was there?
When he lifted his head and stared into her eyes, her pulse stuttered like a kid learning to jump rope for the first time. Everything felt tangled and confused.
“We need to head out,” he said quietly.
She nodded.
Then he stood and crossed to the door. His hand rested on the doorknob when she called his name. He paused and looked back at her. Their eyes met and held. Her heart raced.
“You’ve bewitched me too,” she said.