Hexing Merlin: A Paranormal Witch Romantic Comedy (Oxford Paranormal Book Club 2) by Rosemary A Johns

Author:Rosemary A Johns [Johns , Rosemary A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Agency of Trusted Mediums, Witch Hollow

I shift anxiously on my leather desk chair, and it creaks in protest. Distracted, I try to concentrate on the letter in front of me from a client who’s desperate to send a message to her dad across the veils, where she hopes he’s getting the karma he deserves and suffering eternally for not telling her where the treasure is buried.

So, one of the sweet ones.

I slap the letter down onto the desk, staring at the closed office door for the tenth time in as many minutes.

Merlin’s been gone too long.

Sweet Hecate, was I too trusting to let him go to the bathroom by himself?

Yet demanding to escort him would’ve been creepy, clingy, and too much like I intended to hold his dick for him.

Once, I had a human date, who was into that as one of his kinks. Merlin, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the type.

I puff out a frustrated breath.

Where in the witching heavens is Merlin?

This had better not be another one of his I want to be alone moments. My fingers twitch, and my magic surges through me like it’s readying itself for some tight ass hexing.

I grit my teeth. What in Hecate’s name is he doing in there? Has he turned into a blackbird again and then flushed himself down the toilet by accident? Become entranced by the magical taps? Found himself a quiet corner under the sinks to compose a song to the wonders of plumbing?

I shove myself out of my seat with a snarl.

Except, what if Zeb’s the asshole here? What if he’s caught Merlin and trapped him in his vulgar, flashy office in revenge because Merlin defended me earlier?

Merlin’s my responsibility. There’s a weird, fluttering sensation in my stomach, which I’m sure is coming from feeling protective towards a mage, but then, he had those feelings for me first.

Yeah, mature.

When I stalk toward the door, I hesitate at the sound of voices outside in the corridor: Merlin’s and a breathy woman’s.

My gaze becomes steely.

What’s Merlin doing? Has he really been whipping me up into a panic, while he’s been standing around, gossiping and flirting?

He’s taking to being my fake secretary way too well.

Softly, I crack open my door and peer through.

Then my eyes widen with shock, and I only just hold back a possessive growl.

Counselor Kendall leans against the dingy wall. She’s a witch in her thirties in a wrinkled suit, who’s clutching an iron clipboard to her chest. Merlin lounges next to her like sin itself. His long body is stretched out with a fluid grace, and his arm rests above her head, caging her. His shirt rides up, and I bite my lip not to let out a moan at the gorgeous glimpse of his skin beneath.

Merlin’s expression is dominant and dark (and nothing like either the cunning or wary one that he usually wears with me). But then, Kendall doesn’t know that he was raised as a slave. Merlin is pretending that he’s my secretary, and apparently, he’s enjoying the role.

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