Under His Spell. Kristin Hardy

stride. He didn’t move with the controlled grace of an athlete, and yet something in the way he held himself suggested that he could do just about anything he wanted to with that body of his.

      Like she needed to think of that.

      Lainie made an impatient noise and caught up with him. “What’s the appointment?”

      “Dry-land training. Rehab.”

      She snorted. “I don’t think you can be rehabilitated. I think you’re stuck with yourself just as you are. And so are we, sadly.”

      It didn’t do a thing to wipe away that confident grin. “You know, you talk tough, but deep down inside, I think you’ve got a soft spot for me.” For an instant, there was something 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.