Hot Spell. Michelle Rowen

can tell that just from touching the wall?”

      She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat. “Well, it’s just the vibe I’m getting. Maybe I’m wrong.”

      After a moment when he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him cautiously. “What?”

      He shook his head. “It’s just kind of amazing to me. I’ve been on assignment with lots of other agents, but you’re different from them, aren’t you?”

      She crossed her arms. “You can save the judgment for another time.”

      “Judgment?”

      “I feel self-conscious enough about what I have to do without you making me feel bad about it.”

      He blinked. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Are you actually trying to pick a fight with me about this? We just got here.”

      “And we’re almost done.”

      When people studied what she could do too closely it made her feel like a sideshow freak. Echoes of “Amanda the Strange” went through her head and she cringed.

      “Let’s check out the rest of the house quickly.” She moved away down the hall but his strong, warm hand encircled her upper arm to stop her.

      “Wait a second, Amanda.”

      She slowly turned to look at Jacob who now had an odd look on his face.

      “What?”

      “You have a problem.”

      “Tell me something I don’t know. That’s why I want to go to New York. I want to be normal.”

      He just looked at her incredulously. “You seriously think that, don’t you? That you’re not normal.”

      She shrugged his hand away. “It’s not normal to connect with the supernatural world. It’s creepy and wrong.”

      He had a deep frown on his face now. “Who told you something like that?”

      “Everybody.”

      “Everybody? I find that very hard to believe.”

      “My mother never approved of what I could do. In fact, she hated it. She made sure I knew on a daily basis it was abnormal and unnatural and freakish. And at school…” She trailed off. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? I know it’s strange and just because I can do it doesn’t mean I like it.”

      He laughed then. At her. She felt heat come to her cheeks.

      “Fine, laugh,” she said tightly. “I’m used to that.”

      “You’re completely crazy, you know that?”

      “I’m not crazy.”

      “I think I’d have to disagree with that.”

      She let out a sigh of frustration. “You don’t know me.”

      “I think I do. And I’ll tell you why I think I know you. Because you think that after that little psychic display I think you’re a freak. I can’t believe your mother would say that to you.” He seemed actually angry about it.

      “Forget it.”

      He cocked his head to the side. “You’re all ruffled now. Lost that cool composure from before, huh? Do I really have the ability to make you lose control of yourself?”

      “I really think I hate you.”

      He snorted. “Now it’s hate. Awesome. Before, I knew it was indifference, maybe a little bit of disgust, but hate is so much more interesting.”

      “Why are you baiting me like this?”

      “Because I don’t think anybody ever does bait you like this. Nobody challenges you, Amanda. Nobody pushes your buttons.”

      “Maybe I don’t want my buttons pushed.”

      He raised a dark eyebrow. “Maybe your buttons have never been pushed by the right person.”

      Her cheeks grew warmer. “Let’s leave my buttons out of this.”

      “I don’t think that’s possible.” His gaze slid down her front and she self-consciously crossed her arms as a feeble form of protection from his intense scrutiny. “What you can do is amazing. You’re amazing, whether you realize it or not.”

      “Amazing,” she said the word with an ironic twist. “So amazing that my father was freaked out by me and abandoned my family when I was a kid and my mom was stuck raising me.”

      His eyes narrowed. “He did that?”

      “A ghost pushed him down the stairs. He kind of blamed me for that.”

      “He blamed you?” Another flash of anger entered his gaze.

      “Of course he did. It was my fault the ghost was there in the first place.”

      She turned away from him wishing the heat would leave her face. But there was something about Jacob that definitely did push those hidden buttons of hers. Why did she let him get to her? What was it about this admittedly gorgeous jerk that totally flustered her?

      “You want him to make love to you so badly you can barely remain standing, don’t you?”

      She frowned at the thought, not to mention the mental images it invoked.

      Then her eyes went very wide. She hadn’t just thought that. She’d heard it. Somebody had spoken those words to her.

      She looked at Jacob, who was frowning at her sudden change in expression.

      “What is it?” The concern returned to his green eyes as if he sensed something had changed.

      Something had.

      “Um…” she began. “I was right. This house is definitely haunted.”

      “What? You can see the ghost?”

      She nodded.

      “Where is it?” he asked.

      She swallowed hard. “Standing right next to you.”

      4

      LEANING AGAINST the wall was a beautiful ghost with long blond hair, wearing a long white gown. Amanda could tell it was a ghost because she could see right through to the wall behind her.

      “You heard me?” the ghost asked.

      Amanda studied the woman for a moment. “I heard you.”

      The ghost glanced at Jacob. “He’s very handsome. I can see why you’re attracted to him.”

      “What’s happening?” Jacob asked, scanning the area around him. “I can’t see anything.”

      The ghost walked slowly around Jacob, checking him out from head to toe and pausing at all the key places—his broad shoulders, muscled arms and chest, firm ass and the hard-to-ignore bulge at the front of his jeans.

      Amanda’s mouth wasn’t dry anymore.

      “Uh…Amanda…” Jacob snapped her out of her sudden daze. “Why are you looking at me like that? Where’s the ghost now?”

      Get a grip, she told herself sternly. This was not the time or place to flake out.

      You want him to make love to you so badly you can barely remain standing.

      Was that what the ghost had said?

      So not true. She wasn’t obsessed with sex. She didn’t fixate on the physical—no matter how perfect a subject Jacob might be.

      Stupid ghost.

      “What’s your name?” Amanda asked.

      The beautiful woman tore her appraising gaze away from Jacob’s