Page 27 of Too Cursed To Kiss
“Ah, that’s another trick of Father’s. It makes it hard for people to find the house unless we need them to find it.”
I cracked a window, sucked in some deep breaths. “I’m guessing the paint means the house is an illusion too?”
“Sort of. It’s more a spell that enhances what’s there, and it’s not one dimension.”
I squinted to see if I could see it differently. It looked the same. “How does it look different? I don’t see it.”
“From the air, there is no house. You’d see only trees.”
I glanced up at the sky, the sunlight scalding. I shielded my eyes and yawned, wondering what exactly they needed to hide. We were almost to the house. I repositioned the left itchy bra strap.
Wald glanced over at me. “Sorry, price wasn’t an object, but the options were limited.”
“Stop reading my mind,” I snapped, trying to think of mundane things I didn’t care if he knew as the dented garage door opened in a grinding screech of metal.
“I’ll have to get that fixed,” he said as my heart pounded. Meeting the family wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but explaining the damaged door and how Wald and I had met might be entertaining, or dangerous, or—I was going with entertaining.
Wald led me through the sliding door out of the garage, but at the first four-way division, he took the pristine path. “There’s not even a speck of dirt on this floor.”
“The other floor is made that way. They’re all clean.”
“What, for burglars?”
“No, so we can remember which one takes us to the garage.”
I groaned. That was obvious if you understood it. The dirty trails were the red herring, and I’d fallen for it. Theseweren’t normal people. I stopped. “Hang on, are you sure you want to do this? I’m not exactly the kind of girl you take home to meet Mom and Dad.”
“Yes, well, we haven’t been on a date yet, so that’s not really a concern, is it, Tails?” His lips curled up.
Theyetechoed in my head. Was he thinking of asking me out? “Exactly. I’m not the dating type and certainly not your type. Plus, please stop calling me that.”
He stopped and turned. My heart pounded in my chest as he moved toward me. His size was more than his proximity. He owned the air I was breathing.
“I wasn’t aware I had a type. What would it be?” His voice had lowered in a blend of predator and sex god. My fingers twitched. He was so close.
Squaring my shoulders, I stood my ground. “You know, blonde and petite, weighs about a buck ten, and has delicate parts. You like dresses and PINK.”
He clamped his lips into a hard line, and then he burst into laughter. The blend of gravelly throaty chortle and deep belly laugh rubbed me like fur. “Well, you’re wearing a dress and a pink bra. I think you’ll do fine.” He dipped his head, as if his eyes were moving from toes to face, but the damned sunglasses blocked his expression. “And for your future information, I prefer brunettes who stand up to me and don’t break easily—and ask a lot of questions.”
The butterflies in my gut did Olympic-worthy backflips as he turned and continued down the hall.
I raced after him, my black boots clanging against the metal. “Hey, don’t you dare walk away. I don’t ask too many questions. I’m naturally curious. I’m intending to open a private investigator business.” If ever got out of this mess. Were my dreams literally dead?
He stopped at the door and turned back to me. “Intriguing. You’ll be excellent in that profession but tell me more later. After we enter the house, I would follow my lead if I were you and try to make your questions minimal and your answers short.”
“Good luck with that.” But my stomach fluttered again with a churning nest of anxiety. I had no reason to be nervous, but things didn’t always have to make sense. I tugged up the bodice to rearrange my assets and hide the pink bows the best I could. The door slid open as I smoothed the skirt down. Making a prayer to some unknown gods I didn’t believe in, I stepped through.
Crossing the threshold was weird, like feathers tickling me. The hall ended in the foyer, which opened into a massive living area. High ceilings with big windows and a fireplace with a mantel taller than my almost six feet. The decor was well-traveled pseudo-Victorian with lots of jewel-toned plush fabric and dark wood. Old eclectic stuff everywhere with clocks, lamps, and gewgaws sprinkled liberally. Thousands of books filled a soaring second-story library, which had a curving staircase to get to it. There were four gold and green brocade chairs and two ruby leather sofas. All oversized and sturdy looking. A house for tall people. I bet the chairs were comfy.
A stunning brunette old enough to be my mother appeared out of nowhere and extended a finely boned hand. “Ah, this must be…” She looked at Wald.
I realized I was staring and stuck my hand out. “Harlan.”
The woman’s lavender silk dress clung to her curves like it was a second skin. “Yes, of course, Harlan.” Her makeupwas so perfect she looked more like an older sister than a mother. It was only her bony hands that gave her age away.
Her grip was much stronger than I’d expected and holding her hand was luxurious, almost plush. “I’m pleased to meet you, Harlan. I’m Victoria Forndaur, Waldemar’s mother. When Waldemar said he was bringing home his girlfriend, we were quite surprised he hadn’t mentioned you before.” She narrowed her feathery lashed eyes, as if it would squeeze out information. I focused on the purple rhinestone brooch pinned to her shoulder.
It killed me not to glance at Wald. “Ah, no, we were keeping things secret for a while.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, and avoiding outright lies was probably smart.
