Page 12 of Secrets of the Forgotten Heir
Shit. I was not prepared for guests. I barely felt prepared for consciousness.
Chapter Eight
A flurry of nerves hit me. If someone could knock on the door, that meant they could see it – and that meant the ward Maddie had put on it had finally worn off. I shouldn’t really have been surprised because we’d been back for more than an hour. Still, there would be no hiding for me now.
‘You heard them coming, huh?’ Eva was barking as an early-warning alarm. She gestured pointedly towards the door with her nose. ‘Thanks.’ I patted her head. ‘Next time let’s do a quick two-bark for visitors coming, okay?’
She barked twice in rapid succession.
‘Oh, brilliant. Now you’re fluent in sarcasm, too,’ I muttered. ‘But yes, like that.’
She wagged her tail once then looked at me expectantly, then at the door and then back at me. Yeah, yeah: she was waiting for me to open it. Obviously that was the sensible thing to do but my hands felt clammy and my heartbeat had picked up again.
What if it was Yanni, wanting to know why I wasn’t down at the fayre? What if it was Helga and Volga, the elderly witches who lived down the road, who could never be more than six feet apart and who had never looked at me the same since my grandmother had shown up? What if it was someone who wanted to come in? They couldn’t see that the Eternal Flame was absent!
Eva decided to bark again. Traitor.
‘Shh, girl!’ I whispered, pushing my finger to my lips as if that would reinforce my point. I reached out with my empathy skills and felt a wave of impatience from my would-be-visitor. Oops.
‘I can hear you in there,’ a deep male voice called from outside. ‘You should know I’m not leaving until you speak to me. As a Witchlight resident, I have a right to view the Flame.’
Arrogant and entitled: ugh. I was pretty sure I knew who was speaking, but even so I edged towards the window to peer outside. The man had his back to me so all I could see was the dark-blue fabric of his sharply tailored suit. Men in Witchlight aren’t known for their sartorial style – we’re more a shorts and flips-flops place – so I was most likely looking at Fraser Banks.
I had two choices: ignore him until he went away and leave Maddie to deal with him, or try to get rid of himmyself. Given that Maddie had been dealing with all the crap so far, it didn’t seem fair to go with the first option. It was time to woman up.
‘Look intimidating,’ I ordered Eva. She instantly bared her teeth. I blinked. ‘Dial it back a notch.’ She hid the teeth but her body stayed tense. ‘Perfect.’
I tried to cross my arms to match her intimidating vibe but then I had to uncross them to open the door. Damn: intimidation was hard when basic motor skills got in the way.
I took another steadying breath, opened the door – and then I gawped.
Yup, that’s the only word for what I did. My jaw lost its ability to stay in place, while my lungs seemed to have forgotten that inhaling and exhaling were supposed to be automatic functions.
Fraser Banks was absolutely gorgeous. Why hadn’t Maddie mentioned he was sex on a stick? Surely that was crucial information?
He was the type who dressed to impress. He really didn’t need to because he’d look good in a dustbin bag – though admittedly the dark blue suit was a better fit. It matched perfectly with his deep purple shirt, which was open at the collar and giving the impression of effortless cool. His thick brown hair had a windswept look in agoodway, andhis facial hair was impressively manicured; it wasn’t the type of designer stubble that came from three days of not bothering to shave. This was the type of stubble you went to the barber for.
As for his eyes? It didn’t seem possible that they could be so blue, but they were like clear, cold water. And I wanted to drink them up. Or drown in them. Either worked.
‘Who are you?’ he asked, obviously taken aback. The surprise in his voice brought me back to the moment. This was not a man I was meant to be ogling; this was a man I had to keep away from the house whatever happened.
I folded my arms again, successfully this time. ‘I think I should be the one asking that, don’t you? Given that you’re the one standing onmyproperty.’
His head tilted to the side in a manner remarkably similar to Eva’s when she was listening to me speak. ‘Yourproperty?’
‘Myproperty. I’m the one with the lifetime ancestral tenancy. I’m Beatrix Stonehaven.’
I watched his pupils dilate and hide a fraction of those shimmering blue irises. ‘Stonehaven?You’rethe generational guardian? But I thought … I thought you didn’t live here anymore.’
‘Really?’ I raised my eyebrows and gave him the most withering look I could muster. ‘Why would you thinkthat? I’ve been doing some travelling recently, but this is my home. This house and its guardianship have belonged to my ancestors for centuries.’ I paused. ‘And it’s going to stay that way.’
His jaw tightened, though it didn’t make him look any less attractive; if anything it added a brooding dimension to his look. I could do brooding for a night. Brooding was often very good fun for one night. And with those broad shoulders, he could definitely—
Stop it, Bea,I said to myself. This was not the time to fantasise about what I would see if I undid a couple more of those shirt buttons. He was theenemyand there was no sleeping with the enemy, no matter how good they looked.
‘And you are?’ I asked, even though I knew the answer.
‘Banks. Fraser Banks.’
