Once Upon Stilettos
Page 111

Loony followed me as I left the room. She paused at the doorway, as if asking Owen for permission. He gave her the slightest of nods, and she ran ahead to sit on the bottom step of the staircase. I stopped by the bathroom to collect my purse and my still-damp clothes, then followed Loony up the stairs.
The house was truly spectacular, the kind of New York showplace you see in movies and magazines. It might be only a few blocks from my apartment, but it might as well have been on another planet. When I reached the guest room, I realized Owen hadn’t been kidding about being more comfortable there than at home. The guest bed was a big four-poster with a pile of pillows and a fluffy down comforter—a far cry from my narrow, hard twin bed at home.
Loony jumped up onto the bed and sat grooming herself. I went into the bathroom and draped my clothes over the shower curtain rod. I found a drawer full of toothbrushes and unwrapped one, then found another drawer filled with sample-size toiletries, from which I selected a tube of toothpaste. It looked like he more or less ran a bed-and-breakfast. I imagined that with a house like that and a spare room, he was very popular with friends and family from out of town.
I returned to the bedroom, leaving the door to the hallway open just slightly so Loony could leave if she wanted to, and to send a subtle signal to Owen that I did trust him. Then I pulled back the covers and crawled into bed. It was like lying on a cloud. Owen might have had to persuade me to stay, but after a night in that bed, he might have to force me to leave. When I got myself settled, Loony came to the head of the bed to join me, curling up against me. I wasn’t much of a cat person, but I was glad for the company. It was like she knew I didn’t want to be alone. I would have preferred her owner, but that would have been a very bad idea.
I slammed a fist into the pillow next to me. How stupid could I possibly be? I should have known that there was far more going on than my magical immunity being gone. Men never fell all over me like that, and I’d never had two men in one night kiss me. It had to have been supernatural, and I should have clued into that a long time ago. I consoled myself with the thought that the artificial confidence from the shoes must have kept me from seeing the truth. I wondered if the shoes were also the source of the libido surges, but I was not going to ask Owen that question.
I rolled onto my side and buried my fingers in Loony’s soft fur. She purred in response. The big question was whether the shoes had been targeted directly at me and if they had anything to do with me losing my immunity. Was Ari behind it all? She had been at Bloomingdale’s the day I first saw the shoes. That might not have been a coincidence, after all. Gemma had even shown her the shoes, and then I’d told everyone my holiday shopping plans.
The only conclusion I managed to reach was that I couldn’t do this alone. If I kept trying to puzzle out the spy, my immunity problems, and now the mystery of the shoes all by myself, disaster was inevitable. I was going to have to tell someone everything that had happened. Owen was probably my best candidate. He was smart, powerful, and a truly good guy. He took in orphaned kittens, for crying out loud. Surely I could trust him with my problems.
I heard footsteps outside my bedroom door and held my breath as I listened to a nearby door open and close. I doubted I’d get much sleep so close to Owen. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself the luxury of reliving that kiss, from the first thrilling moment when I realized he was going to kiss me, to the initial contact, to the ever so gently increasing pressure and feather-soft touches between more serious kisses. It had been sheer heaven, right up to the point he recoiled in horror.
With a stifled groan, I rolled to my other side. He was the one who needed to lock his door for safety. I didn’t know if I was still under the effects of any spell, but I wanted just one more kiss like that, only preferably without the horror at the end of it.
Loony climbed over me to get back into a position where I could stroke her properly. “What are we going to do about that guy of yours?” I whispered to her.
Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did come, it brought with it nightmares and disturbingly erotic dreams, some of which got tangled together so that I woke both terrified and turned on. I must have tossed and turned too much, for at some point in the night, Loony left me. When I woke the next morning, cold, dim light came through the curtains. The clock said it was nine. I hoped Owen wasn’t sitting around wondering if I’d ever get up.
I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and tried to do something with my hair before I headed downstairs. I found Owen in the kitchen, standing at the stove. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt even more faded than the one he’d loaned me, and his hair was rumpled, as though he hadn’t done much more than run a hand through it upon waking.