In 1692, Isabeau Munier cast a spell to flee Lobster Cove and escape burning at the stake for witchcraft. Instead, she’s trapped by a curse that tosses her through time whenever she attempts to leave the small town. With her curiosity shop and Great Dane familiar, Isabeau has finally found her place in time. When her landlord’s sexy nephew moves in, she thinks she may have found Mr. Right as well.
Grayson Wright’s intrigued by the beautiful Isabeau, but a friend’s accusations make him worry Isabeau took advantage of his beloved uncle. Gray’s determined to learn the truth, even at the risk of losing his heart.
Can Isabeau prove she’s not the gold-digger Gray fears and that her love for him is true? Can Gray learn to trust his heart, which tells him Isabeau’s the perfect woman for him? Or will Isabeau’s curse take the chance away from them both?
“Did you have a few minutes or did you have someplace else to be?”
He shook his head. “I made this my last stop figuring I’d let you know I was here, then head over to the house to spend the night.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit. I’ll run over to the Frenchman Bay Motel. See if they have any vacancies.”
She thought of the half marathon starting tomorrow. The crowds had already descended and rates at all the hotels had been raised to take advantage. Her shop had bustled with business earlier in the day before all the runners retired for an early night. She grimaced. “You’ll be hard-pressed to find anything decent tonight.”
Havoc plopped down on Gray’s foot and leaned heavily against his side. Gray spread his legs to accommodate. Dogs were good judges of character. And Stanley had always raved about the boy, though boy wasn’t a term she’d use for the man standing before her.
“I have a second bedroom. Why don’t you stay with me?” It wouldn’t hurt to get in good with her new landlord. And if he planned to fix up the second floor and move in, it would be a good idea to make friends.
What would he wear to bed? The modern half of her hoped he was a boxers only kind of man. She wouldn’t mind having the eye candy around. Her shy, seventeenth-century half prayed for smelly, disgusting nightclothes that covered every inch of his body. She didn’t need the temptation so close at hand. Hitting on her new landlord was likely a bad idea.
He studied her for a second. He seemed like the kind of guy to weigh all his options. Stanley had always said Gray was a careful boy, begging the question of why he’d come all this way without knowing the true state of affairs.
He cleaned his glasses once again. With his face tilted down in concentration, he said, “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”
“Well, okay then.”
Havoc loped over to her side and shoved his nose under her hand. He approved, apparently. But he didn’t have to worry about exposing his secret life as her familiar, did he? No big deal for the dog.
For her, on the other hand, letting her secret out could be disastrous. She’d tried having a roommate once upon a time. The situation hadn’t worked out well at all. Even in these modern times no one looked kindly on finding a witch in their midst.
Dear lord, what had she just agreed to?
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