A Familiar Ghost: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Oxford Magic Kitten Mysteries Book 5) by Rosemary A Johns

Author:Rosemary A Johns [Johns , Rosemary A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Silver Hall, Witch Hollow

ASTRA

I lay in the dark of the guest room at Silver Hall, staring up at the molded ceiling, which was sculpted like flames. I pulled the pale green blankets to my shoulders, burrowing into the four-poster bed that was cocooned with silver drapes, which was the softest I’d ever lain in.

Why did I expect anything different from a mansion owned by Sin?

What would my marriage bed be like?

I shivered, imagining Sin, lying in his own bed now.

Was he lying there thinking of me, as I thought of him?

My breath hitched.

More importantly, what was he wearing?

Sweet Hecate, was he naked?

A witch could dream.

Yet knowing Sin, he’d be dressed elegantly in linen striped pajamas, which looked more like a summer suit.

When he’d shown Satan and me to the guest room, after Sin and I had got back from the restaurant, he’d passed me one of his t-shirts with an uneasy look. “Are you certain that I can’t lend you one of my actual pairs of jammies? It feels irregular to lend a guest a t-shirt.”

“That’s me: irregular. Although, Satan invented a daily potion that keeps my bowels, strictly speaking, as regular as clockwork.” I’d raised my eyebrow. “I can’t actually take off this damn dress, but this is my way of standing up to it.”

Satan had jumped off my shoulder onto the bed and bounced up and down. “That’s right. Show the smelly dress who’s boss.”

I’d grimaced. I’d hoped that only I had noticed the smell.

Sin had been still tipsy from the wine, and the walk back had been…interesting. Especially, when he’d decided to serenade me with his favorite Taylor Swift songs.

This time, I had recorded him on my phone.

Bubbling cauldrons, I couldn’t wait to show him his performance tomorrow, when he’d sobered up.

I’d slipped the t-shirt on over my dress, and it’d hung to my knees. Then I’d glanced at the logo on the front and I’d laughed:

IF YOU CAN’T TAKE THE HEAT, DON’T PISS OFF THE DRAGON

Sin had coughed. “That was from my wilder and more uncouth days.”

I loved the image of a rebellious, defiant Sin slouching around the Silver Court in jeans and t-shirt, trying to provoke his uptight brother with this top.

Satan had grinned. “Fair play, it’s a fine sentiment. Why don’t you still wear threatening t-shirts?”

Sin had swayed, before catching himself on the carved post of the bed. “Draco said, no, no, no. Mean Draco.”

“Indeed I did, Your Lordship,” Draco’s voice had come reprovingly from the walls. “Your role here in Witch Hollow was to recover your reputation and not intimidate the locals, including wearing items of clothing that suggested you’d burn them to death.”

“Spoilsport,” Satan had muttered.

“Since it’s far past your brother’s recommended bedtime, may I suggest you all retire for the night…to your own bedrooms…alone?”

Sin had narrowed his eyes. “Thank you, Draco. I get the hint.”

“Very good, Your Lordship.”

I’d slipped under the blankets, moaning as I’d sunk into the soft mattress. Then I’d flushed, and Satan had snickered.

Sin had leaned over, brushing the hair back from my forehead tenderly.

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