Under His Spell. Kristin Hardy

almost velvety in his voice.

      “So young to have terminal delusions,” she said.

      “In fact, I think deep down inside, you can’t resist me.”

      “It’ll be an enormous effort, but I think I can just about see my way to it. In fact, I think I’ll manage pretty well.” She threaded her way between the stone pillars on the side of the common and started across the street to the Seven Gables Inn.

      “I don’t know if I buy that.”

      There it was again, that velvet note. He flicked a glance at her and their gazes tangled for a moment. Awareness of him dragged at her like some kind of a gravitational field. His smile this time was slow, almost dangerous.

      A horn tapped and Lainie realized that she’d come to a stop in the middle of the street. “Well, you stand right here until you’re sure.” She shook her head and strode across the pavement as he followed. “Anyway, you told me why you’re going to Boston. That doesn’t explain why you’re here harassing me.”

      “Because it’s so much fun?”

      “There’s something deeply twisted about you,” she muttered.

      He laughed in genuine amusement. “So I’ve been told.”

      “Why are you here? A town like Salem can’t hold anything for a guy like you.”

      “Maybe I came here to sightsee.”

      Lainie snorted. “Next thing you’ll be telling me is that you came here to get your fortune told by the Salem witch.”

      “No. I came here because I wanted to see you,” he said simply.

      It stopped her in her tracks. In the middle of the sidewalk that ran in front of the plate glass windows of the hotel, cars whizzing past in the street, she turned to stare into those blue-gray eyes. And for the first time since she’d been twelve, found herself at a loss for words with him. She moistened her lips. “Why?”

      He reached out for her hand. Heat vaulted up her arm, making her dizzy. “I don’t know,” he said, staring at her palm as though the answer might be there. “I thought maybe I’d figure it out when I got here.”

      And suddenly she was very afraid of hearing what that answer was. “I have to go,” she said faintly, telling herself to pull her hand away. But instead she just stood there, staring stupidly at him.

      “I know.” He placed something in her fingers and closed them over it, then raised her hand to his lips.

      Heat bloomed through her, making her dizzy. She wouldn’t let him throw her off balance, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of playing Casanova and making her look the fool.

      “Is that one of those moves you’ve learned in Europe?” Lainie asked unsteadily.

      “We haven’t even scratched the surface of what I’ve learned in Europe yet,” J.J. said. “I’ll see you around, Lainie.”

      And he turned and walked away.

      She opened her hand and found one of the serenity stones they sold in the gift shop.

      Carved into its surface was the word beginnings.

      Chapter Four

      “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Lainie said, puffing as she struggled to raise her toes, already pointing at the ceiling, even higher in rhythmic bursts. “Nobody should work this hard at six in the morning.”

      “Just think of all the good it’s doing you.” Caro lay on the mat next to her, doing the exercises as though they cost no effort at all.

      “I’d rather be running any day. Tell me why I’m doing this again?”

      “To strengthen your core.”

      “I think my core’s as strong as it needs to be.”

      “If it were, you wouldn’t be puffing,” Caro said serenely.

      “I’ll tell you what my core needs,” Lainie said, rolling to her side to do the plank. “Coffee and scones at George’s.”

      Caro turned to stare at her before getting into position. “Work out and then go pack the calories right back on? Isn’t that contrary to the whole point?”

      “What do you mean? Coffee and scones are the whole point. This is just what we do to earn our right to them.”

      “I feel sure there’s something really off about that statement, but I can’t quite figure out what,” Caro said.

      “Come on, guys, no talking,” the instructor reprimanded them gently from the front of the class. “Concentrate on your core.”

      “See?” Lainie whispered. “Scones.”

      “Isn’t this the guy who was kissing your hand outside the hotel yesterday?” Caro looked up from her newspaper.

      Lainie froze, a bite of scone halfway to her mouth. “Kissing my hand?” she repeated faintly.

      They sat at the window counter in Cool Beans. Caro held up the sports page. On the bottom, in living color, J.J. stared out at her with his crooked grin. Local Champ Down as Season Looms, read the headline.

      Lainie cleared her throat. “You, um, saw that?”

      “It was kind of hard to miss.”

      “You didn’t say anything.”

      Caro gave a Mona Lisa smile. “I was biding my time. It was the fourth grader from the gift shop, right? Funny, we don’t often get Olympic medalists dropping by.”

      “Oh, he’s just…” Lainie flapped her hands.

      Caro raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

      “Someone I grew up with.”

      “That didn’t look like the move of a childhood friend.”

      “I never used the word friend,” Lainie said darkly.

      Caro’s mouth curved. “Now, this is getting interesting.”

      “It’s not interesting. There’s nothing going on.”

      “It sure didn’t look like nothing.”

      “I ran into him at a family event over the weekend. Lucky me, he decided to stop by and bug me.” Lainie took a drink of her latte and set the cup squarely down on the picture of J.J.’s face.

      “Looks like he did a pretty effective job,” Caro observed.

      “Oh, that’s the one talent he’s got.”

      “Judging by the hand-kiss thing, I’d say he’s got a few more.”

      Lainie sucked in a breath of annoyance. “Yeah, well, he’s not going to use them on me.”

      “You so sure of that?”

      “Positive.”

      Caro stirred her cappuccino. “What’s the problem, is he a jerk?”

      Both less and more. “J. J. Cooper cares about three things—skiing, parties and women, and not necessarily in that order. He has the biggest ego on three continents and the attention span of a gnat.”

      “Big breeders, those gnats.”

      Lainie finished her coffee and thumped down the cup a little too loudly. “He’s just yanking my chain. He’s stuck here for a while instead of being Mr. Continental and he’s bored. Showing up here gives him something to do.”

      “So are you going out?”

      “Not in this or any other universe.” Lainie finished the last bite of scone with a decisive munch and screwed up the napkin.

      Caro took a meditative sip of