Crystal Cove (Friday Harbor #4)(52)

But how was she supposed to make herself cry?

Heading into the pantry, she found the wire bin where Zoë kept onions. “This better be worth it,” she muttered, setting a fat yellow onion onto a cutting board. She sliced it in half. Cringing, she lowered her face over the caustic fumes, forcing her eyes to stay open. They began to sting and water instantly. “Oh, jeez,” she gasped, fumbling for a tiny glass bottle. Somehow she managed to capture a couple of teardrops. After blotting her eyes with paper napkins, she took the bottle to the table and used a medicine dropper to fill it with herbal solution.

Now all she had to do was recite the spell, and the discouragement potion would be complete.

But as she reached for the Triodecad, the pages riffled and the book slammed shut.

“Hey,” Justine protested, “quit playing around and let me finish this.” She forced the book open and found the spell again. Quickly she recited the words, using her forearms to pin the book down as it strained to close itself.

Passion evermore proscribed

when maiden’s tears imbibed

Elixir, cool his heart within

discourage love ere it begin.

Breathing with effort, Justine closed the Triodecad and screwed the dropper top onto the little bottle. “All done,” she said aloud. “One drop of this, and Jason won’t be able to run far or fast enough from me.”

Her eyes stung again. “Stupid onion,” she said, reaching for another napkin.

Even though the sliced onion was on the other side of the room.

* * *

At nine P.M. sharp, Justine knocked on Jason’s door. She gripped the silver tray more tightly than necessary. The vodka shots and ice rattled in her hands.

The door opened.

Jason’s unnerving gaze swept over her. It started a carousel of emotions spinning inside her, warmth, desire, infatuation.

He urged her inside the room and took the tray from her, setting it on the table.

I’m not in love with him, she told herself as he reached for her. Even though she was intoxicated with the clean sea-salt fragrance of his skin and the comforting feel of him all around her. Even though her throat had gone tight as if she were going to cry.

“You’re leaving the day after tomorrow,” she found herself saying awkwardly.

“And?”

“This will be over.”

“Nothing will be over,” he said. “We’ve just started.”

“Any other woman would be better for you. You know I don’t fit in your life.”

Jason bent to kiss her neck. His hands slid to her hips. His whisper curled softly against her skin. “I think you’ll fit me perfectly. Let’s try you on.”

Wicked, wicked man. Her face was burning. She could hardly stay still, every nerve in her body twitching with hunger. She couldn’t help imagining it, just for a moment … the feel of him inside her.

“I brought your vodka,” she said, pulling away from him. All nerves and twitches, she scrubbed her hair into a wild flurry and tugged at the hem of her T-shirt. “You should have a shot. It’ll help you relax.”

“An entire fifth of vodka wouldn’t do that,” he said behind her.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, Justine wandered to the window and looked at the outline of her cottage, the night rustling cool and dark around the inn. The little door lamp was haloed like the painted gold circles around the figures in medieval icons.

“What if I agreed to sell you my Dream Lake house?” she asked without looking at him. “At a fair price. That way you could stay there whenever you need to check on the progress of the construction site. You wouldn’t have to come to Artist’s Point again.”

“You’re trying to bribe me to stay away from you?”

The hair on the back of Justine’s neck prickled as she heard the sounds of ice jangling in the tray. He had picked up one of the vodka glasses.

“Not bribing,” she said. “I just want to arrange the situation so we can avoid future problems.”

“You can’t avoid future problems,” he said. “Even if you find a way not to care about me, or even talk to me, there’ll be other problems. Because that’s what life is. One problem after another. You can’t control any of it. All you can do is reach out for something good whenever you can. And hold on no matter what.”

“I can’t,” she said fiercely. “Because I’m trying to save you.”

A long pause. She heard the clink of a glass being set on the table. “Don’t try to save me. Just try to love me.”

“That would be easy.” Anguish shredded her voice. “So ridiculously easy to love you.” She kept facing away from him. “My God, I wish I’d never broken the geas. They were right—I was better off before. And so were you.”

“You weren’t—”

He stopped. He drew in a long, rough breath.

Turning, Justine saw Jason with his hands braced on the table, his head lowered over the empty shot glass. His back tensed until she could see the delineation of muscle even through the knit fabric of his polo shirt.

“Justine.” His voice sounded odd.

He had taken the discouragement potion. Was it working? Had she made a mistake? He wasn’t breathing well. Hades’ bones. Had she made him sick?