The Christmas Witch Read online

  She felt eyes on her in the gloom. ‘As are you.’

  There you go.

  She held her breath as Jadon pushed up the armrest dividing them and slowly removed her glasses. Placing them on the seat beside him, he leant to brush his lips against hers, tasting of Kool Mints and manliness. Mina melted into the kiss.

  ‘I don’t know what’s happened,’ he whispered into her mouth. ‘It’s like you’ve put a spell on me.’

  She pressed her lips against his again, not giving into a wince. Neither broke away as their bags of snacks tumbled to the floor. For seeming hours, they kissed and ran their hands over one another, staying just within the confines of public decency. Everything felt on fast-forward after all the build-up, the cinema providing the perfect cover.

  During one intense session, when he’d pulled her into his lap, Mina sensed light pricking at the corners of her eyes. She turned her head only to see the credits rolling. ‘Oops.’

  Jadon chuckled as she disentangled herself, feeling like she had sea legs. He took his time getting to his own feet, grinning. ‘You might, uh, have to download the movie later.’

  ‘No thanks to you,’ she joked.

  He gave her a playful poke in the ribs. ‘I blame you.’ As he followed her down the aisle, she felt his breath on her ear again. ‘You keen to hang out tonight? Maybe I could cook you dinner or something. Only if you’re free. No pressure.’

  It seemed she wasn’t the only one who wanted to wring out everything from the fling while they could.

  She turned back, pressing her fingertip into the cleft in his chin. ‘I’d like that.’

  It was just a crying shame they couldn’t stay in their lust bubble forever.

  ‘Whoa, what are you doing?’ Mina glanced at Jadon as he steered the old Merc towards imposing gates in the evening gloom … gates that just happened to lead to the town’s famed castle on the hill.

  The lit-up Medieval-style building towered before them, looking like something out of a fairy-tale with its turrets, archways and crenulated walls. She’d thought they were heading to Mr Eder’s modest pad nearby, but then Jadon had veered off.

  ‘Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of jumping the fence or anything.’ She stared at him wide-eyed. ‘I know castles are a dime a dozen in Italy, but still.’

  She gulped. Oh, gawd. Maybe he was one of those types who liked to get down and dirty in unusual places, the cinema only the start. For her, however, it didn’t matter that the castle had always intrigued her, or that it was an uber-romantic setting, she wasn’t about to trespass on private property. To break the law. Even for Jadon.

  He met her gaze. ‘Who said anything about jumping the fence?’ He fiddled with something on his keyring and a creak echoed in the night.

  Her jaw dropped as the castle’s intricate gates opened inwards. ‘Y-you know the person who owns this place?’

  Jadon began steering the Merc down the lengthy driveway. ‘Actually, you know the owner too,’ he said quietly. ‘My father.’

  Mina whipped her head around. ‘Your father? What the …? He’s never even mentioned it!’

  The news still hadn’t sunk in. If it was her, she would have casually dropped the morsel into conversation every chance she got.

  Jadon kept his focus on the cobblestones ahead. ‘Dad can be pretty private when he wants to be. This was our family home when I was little. But when Mum left, Dad couldn’t handle living here anymore. Too many memories. However, he couldn’t bring himself to sell it either. So, he’s just quietly paid for its upkeep ever since, under a different business name. I think people assumed it’d been sold in a private sale. The place needs a serious overhaul, though.’

  Mina shook her head, still barely fathoming what she was hearing, where she was. ‘You guys are like … the Medici family.’

  Jadon pulled to a stop in front of a discreet garage, pressing another button to make its roller door slide up. ‘Hardly. This place is one brick away from crumbling ruins. It’s crazy he leaves it sitting idle, not even generating an income. Rather, it drains money. I’ve just been staying here every now and then to clean out the crap that Dad won’t miss. But I thought you might appreciate its history.’

  ‘I do.’

  As she stepped out of the car, she couldn’t help feeling like Audrey Hepburn in princess mode, despite what Jadon had said. She waited while he grabbed a shopping bag from the boot, then she followed him past a trickling fountain and up stone steps to heavy-wood arched front doors. Medieval-style lampposts lit the way.

  ‘No moat and drawbridge?’ she joked, still trying to tamp down her awe.

  A thought struck her. Just imagine if Gardenia knew that not only was Jadon hot, good with his hands and fluent in Italian but also set to inherit a castle; she’d never leave his side.

  Jadon fished a big silver key from his jean pocket and jostled it in the door. ‘Ha, the place was only built in the nineteen-thirties, for a land agent. Apparently, he wanted a home styled like an English castle, but a moat might have been a step too far.’ Jadon pushed open the door, its hinges creaking like in a thriller film, and reached in to flick on a light. ‘After you.’

  With a nervous smile, Mina stepped inside, drinking in the hallway’s wrought iron chandelier, exposed timber rafters, and plush red carpet. The interior may not have been updated for a while, but already it looked immaculate and luxurious. To think she’d always secretly fancied the idea of being a contessa …

  Jadon led her to a cosy kitchen area, comprising more grey stonework, dark-wood cabinetry and stained-glass windows. He gestured for her to sit at the marble-top island bench while he uncorked a wine bottle on the other side. ‘Red?’

  She nodded and he organised glassware, generously filling hers. She wrapped her fingers around the glass he handed her. ‘I don’t care what you say, I feel like a princess tonight. Now, can I ask what’s for dinner?’

  His hazel eyes held hers and her stomach somersaulted on cue. ‘Gnocchi. Though I’m cheating a little.’ He pulled a packet of pre-made gnocchi and a jar of pasta sauce from the shopping bag he’d brought in. ‘There’ll be no making it from scratch, I’m afraid.’

  Mina waved a hand in the air. ‘Even my nonna buys store-bought gnocchi these days. Much quicker. I’m just happy not to be slaving over a hot stove tonight.’

  Jadon shot her a crooked grin then planted his hands on the bench and leant in for a kiss. She almost felt like telling him to forget dinner when he darted his tongue in, but there were only so many meals she could skip.

  Pulling away, he reached for a saucepan. ‘Ahem. I’d better get started or we’ll never eat.’ Great minds and all …

  To cool her jets, Mina glugged some red then asked where the bathroom was. After Jadon had given her directions, she meandered down the lamp-lit hall. Up ahead, a melancholic blue aura flowed from a gilt frame, hanging between framed displays of taxidermy butterflies and beetles. Mina stopped to look at the retro photograph. Her lips parted.

  Pictured was, unmistakably, a young Mr Eder, back when his silvery hair and sideburns were jet-black, and his jaw defined. And beside him was a dimple-cheeked, gappy-toothed Jadon as a pre-schooler—her ovaries combusted—plus a striking woman with reddish-brown waves, an angular nose and olive-green eyes. Jadon’s mother. It had to be. She looked a good decade younger than Mr Eder, who’d obviously come to fatherhood later in life.

  Mina stared at his mum’s image, feeling a bolt of something. Like déjà vu. But it was probably just because Jadon bore a strong resemblance to her. No wonder Mr Eder had never been able to get over the woman. Right then, Mina couldn’t think of a better word to describe her than ‘bewitching’, just like her son.

  How had a hippie commune pulled her away from her perfect family? Her life at the castle? What sort of dynamic leader must have led her astray? If only Mina had a choice, she’d stay attached to Jadon’s hip forever. Unfortunately, she didn’t have that luxury.

  Dazedly shaking her head
to herself, Mina stepped back and hurried down the hall again.

  Sated from gnocchi and vino, Mina followed Jadon into a lamp-lit turret room later that night. Her heart galloped as she looked from the sleigh-style bed to the decorative pointed ceiling and the billowy white curtains. What a setting. The moment she’d been dreaming about—since they’d met, if she was honest—had arrived.

  Adorably, Jadon seemed just as nervous as she was, absently spiking up his hair. ‘Just so you know, this was always a guestroom. Never my parents’ room or anything.’

  Mina nodded breathlessly. It was as though they hadn’t had a marathon kissing session at the cinema just that day or exchanged smooches over dinner.

  ‘Sh-should I close the windows?’ He gestured at the crisscrossed lattice glass. ‘I usually keep them open at night, but it’s pretty cool.’

  Mina stepped forwards, plucking confidence from someplace. Her voice came out suitably husky. ‘Think you’ll keep me warm enough.’ Then, grabbing onto his charcoal-grey shirt, she pulled him towards her. On her tiptoes, she ran her tongue over his neck mole, like she’d so longed to do. She felt Jadon shiver.

  As she pulled back, he glanced down at her, his hazel eyes swirling with desire. ‘How am I ever going to let you go?’

  Mina’s breath caught, glad to hear that she wasn’t the only one dreading their fling’s expiry date. Not having an appropriate answer, she focused on unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric gaped open and she discovered the cut of his expensive coverings didn’t lie. Bared, his body looked as though it’d been whittled like wood, with lines and shadows in all the right places. A dusting of hair pointed down from his navel like a neon arrow.

  ‘My turn to take advantage of you,’ he grunted.

  Then he whisked her floaty maroon top over her head, unveiling her black push-up bra. (Yup, she’d thought ahead.) Shyness overtook her only for a moment before he was tugging down a strap, making a breast spill out. Desire shone in his eyes as he leant to have a touch—and taste. She lost herself to the feeling, arching back.

  Before long, they’d shed all their garments, like deciduous trees losing their autumn leaves, and were playing around on the mattress. Jadon really was good with his hands … and tongue. After he’d made use of the latter on her, ahem, downstairs, she encouraged him on top of her, desperate to have him inside her now.

  Once she gave him the nod, he reached to fumble for protection from the bedside table then hovered above her. As he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, she tried to keep her breathing steady.

  ‘You’re luminous, Lumina,’ he murmured.

  ‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ she teased before feeling the jolt as he entered her. It stole the air from her lungs. Then they were kissing again, their bodies moving in harmony. As the pace picked up, she let loose with moans, her frame tingling all over like a charged-up phone. Good thing the castle wasn’t close to its neighbours. Honeyed warmth flooded her. Soon he was making noise too.

  Moments later, he flopped down beside her and laced his fingers with hers, their breathing slowing in rhythm. In line with their electrifying session, thunder crackled in the air, followed up by persistent drizzle.

  She tightened her grip on his hand. ‘Ooh, a storm.’

  He rose up on an elbow. ‘Actually, sorry, that’s my alarm clock. Just automated sounds to help me sleep. I forgot to switch it off.’

  She tugged on his elbow. ‘Leave it on, Storm Boy. I like it.’

  ‘If you’re sure.’

  Afterwards, they lay side-by-side, bathed in the moonlight, drifting off to the recorded sound of thunderclaps and driving rain. For Mina, it was the perfect accompaniment to her first ever night in a castle. And her first night with Jadon.

  Chapter 17

  Mina’s eyelids fluttered open, the first rays of sunlight jabbing at her face. The foot of the sleigh bed came into view, then the turret room’s elaborate ceiling and arched windows. Beside her, Jadon lay sleeping, his naked frame tangled up in the Egyptian cotton sheets. Sigh. Unfortunately, she had to extract herself from the dreamy scenario to go wee.

  Slipping out from under the covers, she tiptoed over to the plush chair, where she’d left her clothes and footwear. As she bundled them under her arm, she discovered Jadon’s phone beneath. An idea sparked. She reached for it too.

  In the hallway, she threw on her clothing and boots then grabbed his phone again. He’d got rid of the password log-in, ha! With furtive fingers, she texted his wallpaper image to her own number, then deleted the message and pocketed the device. His awe-inspiring storm pic over the hills needed to be blown up and hung on the wall, no matter what he thought of it. She could surprise him with it someday soon.

  Mina headed for the loo. The airy bathroom looked like it belonged in an olde-worlde five-star hotel, with a spa bath in one corner, lots of brown marble, and vast windows letting in light. A luxury that was wasted considering no-one lived there permanently.

  She did what she needed to, then headed for the double vanity. Turning on the tap, she glanced at her reflection, expecting to have that glowy recently-been-ravaged look. It was, after all, how she felt—

  ‘No, no, no!’

  She touched her face in disbelief. Shock spiralled through her. Her honker! It was back. All right, so it wasn’t Wicked Witch of the West-worthy, but it wasn’t naturally cute and button-like either. It was a smidge crooked and grew broader at the nostrils, flaring out at the sides when she smiled. If she was in such a mood! A dark freckle on the end completed the witchy vibe.

  For mere mortals, it was a livable nose, but it wasn’t what Jadon was used to seeing in the middle of her face.

  Stupidly, though, she didn’t have her magic kit to make it Miranda Kerr-flawless again. She’d totally flaked out about what time of the month it was. If only changing a body part required something as simple as a visualisation, not an unwieldy list of ingredients and steps. Unfortunately, the longer a spell needed to ‘stick’ for, and the more it was repeated, the more effort it required.

  Gah. This was what happened when she played with fire, ignored her fate, she got burnt.

  Her mind racing, she washed her face and hands. A thought hit her. The castle grounds! Surely, she could find what she needed, among the plants, to refine her nose before Jadon awoke. Ordinarily, out of convenience, she bought the necessary ingredients from a health shop, but foraging was her only choice right then.

  Her heart in her mouth, she sprinted down the various hallways and stairs, barging out through a heavy, bolted back door. The morning air was cool and the sky an ominous Hills-grey. She swept her gaze from the manicured backyard to a fruit orchard, hedging, and a shade house. Things were a little hazy without her glasses to aid her short-sightedness but manageable. She might be able to make things work yet! She took off for the orchard.

  Moving quickly, she gathered bark and a stick from an apricot tree, blackberries from prickly bushes, a few toadstools, some weeds, and a rock. Then she pelted for the curved-roof shade house, resting her wares on a bench. She plucked some leaves from a row of seedlings, then reached for an empty plant pot discarded in one corner.

  Still feeling sick to her stomach, she chucked all the ingredients in the copper pot, plus some leftover liquid from a watering can. Then she began pulverising the contents, alternating between using a stick and a rock, while muttering to herself like a woman possessed. Wind buffeted the shade house, the promise of rain hanging in the air, and not just the recorded variety.

  At last, the mucky mixture was mashed up enough for consumption, even if it didn’t look in any way appetising. Ordinarily, she’d boil the ingredients like a soup and add a few condiments to help it go down better. But there was no time for that.

  Pinching the end of her (enlarged) nose, she took her first glug of the concoction from the pot and gagged. After a mental pep talk, she swallowed more down. She made it to the halfway mark, then froze, detecting footsteps outside.

  Fark. Jadon.


  She downed the rest of the potion like it was a banana smoothie, some of the sludge trickling out the sides of her mouth. Triumphantly, she wiped away the muck and banged down the pot … Idiot! She’d just given away her location.

  One last time, she repeated the mantra under her breath, trying to keep her mind serene. As the footsteps neared, she flew a hand to her nose. Oh, no. The potion hadn’t worked yet. There was often a time-lapse, but in her haste, could she have messed up the quantities? Then there was the fact that she’d used some substitutes for things she couldn’t find …

  ‘Mina, are you in there?’

  Sweet Mother Earth. Trying to disappear, like an invisible zipper, would only cancel out her nose-transforming spell, if it had even worked. Then, she’d have to start again with the foraging when she reappeared. Aside from that, Jadon, in the meantime, might worry that she’d done a runner on him. Okay, so her only choice was to hide under the seedling bench until the magic (hopefully) kicked in, then spring out … too late! Jadon loomed in the doorway, his gaze swooping towards her.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’

  There was a twinkle in his eye, and it hadn’t yet dimmed. Perhaps it was like when married women got their hair cut and their husbands were the last to notice. Or maybe where she was standing was particularly shady.

  Either way, she rolled back her shoulders. She decided that if she acted like everything was normal, he might just believe it.

  ‘I was planning to surprise you!’ she enthused. ‘With some specially blended herbal tea. But I haven’t quite found the right ingredients yet.’

  He shook his head with a grin. ‘Sounds just like the sort of thing you would do. Looks like you’ve done a good job of searching too. You’ve got twigs in your hair, and is that dirt on your face?’

  Self-consciously, she rubbed her cheek, wishing she could let her fingers wander a little more to the left. ‘Probably. Despite my, um, best intentions, maybe we’d be better off with some Earl Grey inside instead.’