Blinking, she reached out and pulled the drawer open. Nothing popped out. No spooky voices burst from inside. No weird or otherworldly things happened. Glad that she didn’t have to fish her nerve out from the bottom of her dainty slippers, she took the watch by the chain.
To the human eye, it looked like a normal, beautifully crafted pocket watch. It certainly looked like the kind of bauble she could buy fromQVC.
“If only I’d bought you fromQVC, I’d have sent you back and asked for a watch without the long-enslaved Romany princetrapped inside it.” Expecting her voice to have elicited some kind of response, she was surprised when it remained cold, dead, and very muchQVCnormal.
She’d try a different tactic. “Perez?” His name felt like a bright red cape flaunted in the face of an enraged bull. Surely he’d respond to his own name.
Moments passed and nothing happened. Had he left? He was allowed to wander about outside the confines of the watch, but where would he go? What could he be doing?
She couldn’t give up now, not when speaking with him was the only course of action left open—other than ending her own life, and hoping to be reborn in the future as a Kardashian. It was down to the wire, the last two seconds of overtime, tied score, and her only option to win the game was a free throw.
From the half court line.
Determined to give it one last try, she did something she’d regret later. She rubbed the cool surface of the watch against the globe of her breast. She started at the coolness against her skin, goosebumps rising along her breast.
She nearly screeched when a deep accented voice purred against her ear, “Pakvora, a warmer welcome I could not imagine.”
Turning, she knew she wouldn’t find him standing there, but the thought of a disembodied voice husking beside her strummed the harp strings of her anxiety to a higher pitch.
“Okay, is there some kind of enchanted spirit alert system you can use to tell me you’re here? A bell, whistle, crashing cymbals, orsomething?” She couldn’t see him, but she had the impression he was smiling.
By the foot of her bed, she heard, “How could I enjoy such delicious sights if I went about with a bell around my neck? I’m not cattle. Besides, it would get in the way, no?”
Haven knew she’d regret asking, but she couldn’t help it. “Get in the way of what?”
She was sure he smiled and quirked an eyebrow at her, but didn’t know how she knew he was making facial expressions. She only had glimpses of him through his own memories. From what she’d envisioned, he’d been a gorgeous man; tall, dark, and horny.
Great, just what I need. An invisible man with a love for the ladies. I should probably get dressed under the covers from now on.
Stuck in her own brain, which was a location she found herself in increasing frequency of late, she nearly had a heart attack when a voice came out of the empty space in front of her face. “In the way of my plans, of course.”
“What—”
“And before you ask what plans, I must ask you something.”
She narrowed her eyes at what she thought was the location of his face. What did he want? Though she’d rather be grilling him for answers, she doubted she’d get anywhere unless she played along.
“Go ahead.” Her words were acquiescent, but her tone and stance read barely tolerating.
She planted her hands on her hips, and tilted her head. Waiting.
Silence met her response, again. She was getting tired of not knowing what he was doing, where he was standing, or whether he was leering at her or making faces at her. For God’s sake, he could be staring down the front of her dress and she’d never know it.
Before he could begin, Roselyn entered the room. Her look of surprise gave Haven pause.
She thought the room unoccupied.
Why was the maid here; she hadn’t called for her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t know you’d be here. Please forgive my intrusion.” Bowing, she made to leave.
Nuh uh.
“Do you need something?” Her suspicions rose when a blush stole over the maid’s face. She eyed the maid’s hands as she wrung them beneath the white apron she wore. She was definitely acting suspiciously; as a matter of fact, she’d always been quiet and withdrawn, even for a housemaid. What was wrong with her?
Averting her eyes from Haven’s inquiring gaze, Roselyn stuttered, “I...I was looking for something I thought I dropped in here this morning.”
“What is it?”
