Witchery by Maggie Shayne

Author:Maggie Shayne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oliver-Heber Books

CHAPTER FIVE

She didn’t sleep well. Her rest consisted of punching her pillow, and wishing it were Al’s gorgeous face—that and wondering why the hell she’d reacted to his kiss the way she had.

He was arrogant, all too sure of himself, lecherous, and infuriating.

But he kissed like he’d been born to it.

And she reacted like a woman too long without a man. That was all there was to it, she decided. It wasn’t him, it was her own unplanned celibacy that had her hormones raging when he touched her. She’d never been good at choosing men. Every time she got involved, the guy turned out to be a loser, and so she’d decided to avoid the opposite sex entirely. That had been over a year ago. She guessed her body had its own opinion on the subject.

So maybe she should try again. But not with Al. Absolutely not with Al.

Why not?

Hell. He was too sure of himself, too old-fashioned, probably to the point of being chauvinistic, and he was going back where he came from just as soon as all of this was over.

And that, she realized, was the heart of the matter. He was going back, and there was no sense in her forming some sick attachment to him in the meantime. No sense at all.

All morning M. C. and Aunt Kate helped Al practice the role he was about to play. They talked him through it over and over again. Waiting for his turn in line, what he’d say to the teller at the window, how they’d take him into another room where he’d insert his key into the box and the banker would insert hers. He’d memorized everything from the box number to the fact that he must address the teller as Mr. or Ms. rather than “my lady,” or “ma chérie.”

M. C. believed she’d thought of everything.

Before noon, he seemed ready. Aunt Kate had run into town to buy him a dark-colored trench coat that reached to mid-shin, since he was so damned insistent on wearing his sword. She’d also had a copy of the safe deposit box key made. M. C. thought it best, just in case, and she put the extra key in her jeans pocket where she could get at it in a hurry if she needed to. Despite Al’s protests, they’d managed to talk him into wearing the Kevlar vest that M. C. had practically lived in for the past few days. And in spite of his objections, Mary Catherine was going to be waiting right outside the bank to back him up if all hell broke loose.

Her stomach was churning when all was finally ready and she got into Aunt Kate’s car to drive back to Newark. She was forgetting something. She was sure of it.

Al, on the other hand, was far less concerned about the job at hand than he was about their mode of transportation. He eyed the car warily before getting in, then took his passenger seat looking a bit pale.

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