Bewitching You(41)

She eased away from him long enough to tell him she loved him.

“I love you too,” he said, “and I want you.” He kissed her again. “I know you’re having fun out there, but could we move it along so I can be alone with you?”

“Fun?” Sofia looked up into his amused eyes. “You think I was having fun?”

“Well, you were getting into that chest rubbing.” He chuckled. “Thought I’d bring you in here and remind you what a real man feels like.” He pressed his erection between her legs. “A real king,” he said, and chuckled again.

“Oh, ha, ha. Real funny. Get off me, now, Grayson Phillips.”

“Ah, I’m only playing with you, Sofia. You know I’m teasing. And I’ll admit I’m a little bit jealous.”

“It serves you right. Why did you bring this whole psychic thing up anyway? I’m in way over my head.”

He grinned and whispered his plan into Sofia’s ear. “What do you think he’ll do if you predict his daddy is going to lose all his money after this plane goes down? I predict the families are going to sue, and he’ll lose all his business and have to file for bankruptcy, don’t you?”

“And then Andy can’t depend on Daddy anymore?”

“Exactly.”





Chapter Eighteen



Gray had thought a quick telephone call would do the trick. Then he’d have the rest of the evening to spend alone with Sofia. Yet, here he was, driving up the long cobblestone lane of the Dashmoor Estate, preparing himself to meet Andrew Dashmoor Senior, because Andy Junior was a pansy who didn’t seem to know how to do anything on his own.

Andy stretched out in Gray’s backseat with his hand over his forehead. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.”

“Try to relax, Andy,” Sofia said to him from the passenger seat. “We can prevent this, remember?”

“I don’t know,” Andy whined. “I just can’t deal with this in my life right now. I’m under so much stress.”

Gray held back a groan. Had he known Andy would’ve reacted this way, he’d have come up with a different plan. Now, it was too late, and the kid had Sofia feeling sorry for him.

“It’ll be a cinch, Andy.” Sofia reached back and patted his leg. “You can talk to your father and convince him not to let that particular plane take flight. Then everything will be all right. “

Andy jolted up in between the seats and took Sofia’s hand. “You’ll go in with me, right? He’s never going to listen to me. He hates me. He always has.”

“Yes, I’ll go.” She squeezed his palm. “It’ll be okay. Gray will go in too.”

Gray shut the engine off when they reached the end of the drive and stared up at the large red brick mansion as dusk descended. Flowering vines crept up the sides of the exterior, and a vast stone staircase led up to the enormous front door.

“It’s gorgeous.” Sofia’s eyes widened. “I can’t wait to see the inside.”

Only she would find excitement in these circumstances. Gray supposed that was one of the reasons he loved her. He only wished her little “gift” weren’t so intrusive. Not when his body ached to have her alone and in his arms. Ah, well. He’d push through this and then take her back to his home.

A leggy, overly tanned blonde stood at the door when they walked up. She wore a cleavage-baring halter-top and a short tennis skirt. Gray didn’t think she was much older than Sofia. Apparently, Mr. Dashmoor had his very own trophy wife.

“Hi, Andy!” the woman said, her voice a high-pitched squeal. “We weren’t expecting you. Who are your friends?” She ruffled her fingers through Andy’s hair.

Andy blushed and did the introductions. Trophy wife’s name was Barbie, Andy’s newest stepmom. How appropriate.

She took her time shaking Gray’s hand, gazing up at him with heavily made-up eyes. “Wow! Aren’t you a tall drink of water?”

Sofia’s glare bore into Gray. Certain steam was shooting from her ears, he wrapped his arm around her waist and escorted her into the house, holding back a grin the entire time. Didn’t she know he only had eyes for her? Guess he’d have plenty of time to show her.

Barbie led them into the enormous living room with vaulted ceilings and an impressive mural of angels flying through clouds painted on two of the walls. Gray sat next to Sofia on one of the dainty vintage-style couches. Definitely not made for a man his size, but he held his tongue and made the most of it.

“Barbie.” Andy’s face paled again. “We need to talk to Dad. It’s really important.”

Barbie squealed a little more about who knew what and headed up the grand staircase. Her flip-flops made an annoying clopping sound.

“Your dad’s house is beautiful, Andy.” Sofia leaned over and patted Andy’s hand. “Did you grow up here?”

“Sort of,” he mumbled, and stood up from the chair at the sound of Barbie and Mr. Dashmoor striding downstairs.

Gray and Sofia stood as well. Andrew Senior looked like a modern-day Napoleon Bonaparte, and Gray wondered if he had the complex to match. Guess he was about to find out.

“Andy, why are these people in my house?” Napoleon asked, jutting his chubby little chin up at Gray. “I thought we settled that mishap with the bookie.”

“Dad, he’s not a bookie. He’s my friend and neighbor.”

Barbie settled onto couch opposite them, pulled out a nail file, and ground it into her fingernail. Could the woman be any more annoying?

“Well, what does he want? I’m a busy man, you know. I don’t have time for any of your nonsense today, Andy.”

Sofia slowly scooted behind Gray, obviously afraid of Napoleon, who stood eye-to-eye with her.

Enough of this.

“I’m Grayson Phillips, sir. This is Sofia Good. We’re here because we have reason to believe one of your airplanes is going to kill at least thirty-five innocent human beings and then crash into a mountain. And we want you to stop it.”

~ * ~

Twenty minutes later, Sofia could still hear Mr. Dashmoor shouting at poor Andy somewhere on the second story of the gigantic house. The shrieking echoed, bouncing off the walls.

“Maybe we should’ve been a little more subtle,” Sofia said, more to herself than to anyone. She’d had to come out from behind Gray to explain in detail exactly why they believed one of his airplanes was in jeopardy. Mr. Dashmoor obviously hadn’t liked the explanation.

“No,” Barbie said, suddenly waking from her intense nail filing. She popped the gum in her mouth and straightened her body. “You were right to tell him. Only thing is Andrew doesn’t have an open mind like I do. He doesn’t believe in psychics and that sort of stuff. Me? I go see my own personal life planner every single week, come rain or shine. She helps me so much, you would not believe.”

“That’s, uh, great.” Sofia felt Gray nudge her leg. He’d appeared aggravated ever since leaving his condo, but Sofia hadn’t asked why. She had enough on her mind as it was. Innocent people were depending on her.

Barbie popped her gum again and squinted her eyes at Sofia. “You can really see the future?”

Sofia nodded.

“And if this plane goes up and those people die, Andrew will eventually face bankruptcy?”

Nodding wasn’t really lying, was it? The scenario was possible, at least.

“Damn.” Barbie stood and started pacing. “As you can see, I didn’t marry Andrew for his charisma…or good looks.” She turned and pointed the nail file at them. “Why don’t you give me that flight information? I have my ways with Andrew.”

“Really?” Sofia said.

Gray perked up beside her.

“Heck, yeah. I’ve been known to get what I want when I want it. You two get Andy out of here, so I can be alone with my little teddy bear.”

Sofia pushed the image from her mind. She’d have to remember that visual next time Nana tried to mind read. “Are you sure you can convince him to stop the flight from going up?”

“Cross my heart. You have Barbie Dashmoor’s word.”

~ * ~

Gray happily escorted the sobbing Andy down the hall to his condo so Sofia could start a hot bath in Gray’s whirlpool bathtub. She’d been excited to hear he had a whirlpool, and he’d been excited to see her excited. Hell, he got excited to see her do anything. Especially if it meant she’d be naked and within his sight.

“He hates me even more now,” Andy wailed.

“Shake it off, Andy. Be a man.” Gray opened Andy’s door for him and shoved him inside.

“But I’m not a man.”

“Look. Your dad doesn’t have respect for you because you don’t have respect for yourself. Get a job, pay your own bills, grow some balls, and you’ll be fine. Okay?”