Black Magic Man Read online

  This was his third day following her. He followed her by day and watched her home by night. Today, he stood watching the couple as they walked together. They did this every day. She was all animated as she regaled him with something that had him laughing as he reached over and brought her closer into the fold of his body.

  Every few steps, he’d give her a quick kiss on the lips, which seemed to get her even more animated, if that was possible. He couldn’t help thinking that the man appeared to love his wife very much. If Jean had to harbor a guess, he would have said they were deeply in love with each other. It was unfortunate that the one woman who had caught his interest was in love with another man—unfortunate, yes, but not insurmountable. There was no doubt that it made getting her more difficult, but then nothing worth having was easy. He would have to use all his incredible skills to make her forget this man and turn her attention to him instead.

  The man appeared to be employed at one of the companies in the block of buildings close to where she had waited for him for the three days Jean had been following her. He made a note to check the place out tomorrow. He wanted to know all he could about the woman and her husband. For now, there was nothing more he could do but wait.

  He stood and watched them until they were no longer visible, and then he turned and retraced his steps back to his lonely home at the back of the graveyard.

  His house was well secluded, and being close to the cemetery was a further safeguard from prying eyes and unwelcome visitors. The ritual he needed to perform in order to change from a normal man to a Black Magic Man was not meant for human eyes to observe. So it was critical that his home was far from prying eyes.

  The structure was concealed by long vines that covered it from top to bottom. Not even the entrance was visible, but it suited him fine, especially the naturally flowing waterfall in the back. The waterfall was necessary for his survival. It served two purposes, for his absolutions and as a portal for his Master.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lange whistled cheerfully as she walked into the house. She smelled the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen where her husband, Rupert, was busy preparing breakfast.

  In February, on the island, the mornings were a bit chilly, so she was wearing one of the cardigans she’d received from Rupert last Christmas. At the time he’d given it to her, she was a bit disappointed. She’d been looking forward to something a bit more frivolous—a silk negligée, sexy underwear, or something of that nature, but now she was grateful for the cardigans. They came in very handy on chilly mornings such as these. She was able to enjoy her walk in comfort because they sure did ward off the chill that seemed to cling to the air on the beach. She’d given up trying to get Rupert to accompany her. In a way it worked out for the best because it gave her a chance to go over the events of the previous day and plan her upcoming day.

  Ever since she had first seen the strange man, she found herself thinking about him. Even if she told herself he was creepy, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. She had not told Rupert about him because she did not want him to worry about her and forbid her from meeting him after work. She enjoyed their walk home together until she found something worthwhile to occupy her time.

  It had been all well and good promising to be a good little housewife when they got married. It had sounded great at the time, but she got bored in the afternoons when she was done with the housework. She never prepared dinner until he got home anyway. She found she liked having him around while she prepared dinner, even if all he did was sit at the table and watch her while she moved around preparing their meal. She cherished those times. Those were the times when they talked about his day and she told him about hers.

  Of course, hers was never as eventful as his, at least until the strange man of the previous day, but she’d not told him about the man. She could not find a rational explanation for her not telling him. It was not as if she was attracted to him. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was about the stranger that rubbed her the wrong way. Had she not looked forward to her walk in the afternoon, she would have changed her mind about meeting Rupert. On the other hand, why should she allow a stranger to influence her decision? She needed that outing. She needed to be out in public.

  She loved watching the people go about their daily lives. She missed being part of the hustle and bustle, but Rupert did not want her to work outside of the home. So, for now, she was giving in to him, but she knew she would soon be bored with the home life. She’s been working since high school, so not having to go to work every day was a new experience for her, one she was not very thrilled about.

  When she had to decorate their home, it had kept her busy well into the night, but now that every one of the rooms in their twenty-room house was done, there was really nothing left for her to do. The last room she did was the sunroom, and that, besides her bathroom, was her favorite room in the house. She loved the sunroom. It was spacious and airy with large, almost-walkout windows all around. She’d decorated it in natural wood with rattan and painted the walls in Swiss Coffee. The only splash of color in the room was a large painting of Tuscany. The painting was bright and colorful, and it gave the room a relaxed, cozy feeling. The babbling brook at the edge of the lawn, visible from the large windows, completed the vacation-like atmosphere of the room. She believed this was indeed her masterpiece.

  She stopped at the bathroom in the hallway and washed her hands before continuing into the kitchen. Rupert loved preparing breakfast, and he was very good at it. In the short time they’d been married, they had developed a routine. He put the coffee on and had breakfast waiting for her when she got back from her walk, and she did everything else.

  “Good morning, darling,” he greeted her.

  “Good morning to you, too, sweetheart. I see you have quite a spread this morning.”

  “Yes, I need my protein after the workout you put me through last night.”

  “Moi?”

  “Yes, you. Don’t try to act all innocent. You were like a woman on a mission last night.”

  “Oh, that’s what it was? I was on a mission? Okay, I concur. What do you want for that?”

  “More of the same,” he said as he walked over and gave her a kiss that had her reaching for him.

  “No,” he said, laughing. “For one thing I don’t have the time to take you where I know you want to go.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll settle for a quickie.”

  “Go on with you. You don’t do quickies.”

  “There’s always a first time,” she said, laughing.

  “Well, I don’t do quickies, never have and don’t intend to start now. Also, you don’t want to ruin the breakfast I prepared for you with lots of love.”

  “When you put it this way, you have me there. Let’s eat.”

  “Good.”

  For the next hour, they concentrated on consuming the excellent food he’d prepared. All too soon, he had to get ready to leave for work. On the weekend, they showered together, but during the weekdays, mindful that he had to go to work, they did not; he would never leave the house on time if they did.

  She was in a frisky mood this morning, but she’d control herself until the evening. It seemed the more they went at it the previous night, the more randy she was in the morning. Maybe she was a sex addict, as Rupert would sometimes tease her. God, she hoped not. She had to admit, in her defense, Rupert was an excellent lover. He was attentive to her every move, and when he hit a spot that had her climbing a wall, he kept at it until she literally begged him to take her over the edge. She loved him for this, and all the other little things he did for her. She believed the Gods were smiling down on her when she’d met Rupert.

  She had gone to the local barbershop to get all her hair cut off. She much preferred the haircut from the barber than the one from the salon. She had been feeling in the dumps. Nothing seemed to be working for her. Her love life was non-existent, her job was going nowhere, and she and her mom were constantly at log
gerheads, ever since her dad had been diagnosed with colon cancer. He was now cancer free, but her mom felt she should have moved back home to help with his care. She was very close to her dad, and could not stand by and watch him suffer. It was very hard on her. So, that morning, she got out of bed, shampooed her hair, and after allowing it to air dry, she went into one of the upscale barbershops close to her job and sat patiently waiting for her turn to cut it all off.

  She had always wondered what went on in the barbershop. The men seemed to spend their entire Saturdays in there. Well, now she knew; this was her third trip to the shop, and twice she had to leave because the wait had been so long. Evidently, the barbershop was a hangout joint for men. She’d thought women took a long time getting their hair done, but no way as long as the men at the barbershop. Talk about a dab here, a cut here, a pat there. By the time she got through watching one barber caress one guy’s head, she was livid. Turned out the guy was her soon-to-be husband, Rupert.

  When he got up to leave, he turned to her with a cute, sexy smile, and she was having none of it. She was well and truly pissed. What the hell was wrong with his cut? He kept asking the barber to fix here and fix there. She was extremely angry. Did he think he was so cute? He was, but she had no intention of letting him know she noticed it. So she turned in a huff and told the barber, “I believe it’s my turn now,” and went to sit in the chair.

  She’d forgotten completely about the handsome stranger, but he apparently had not forgotten about her because, after the barber threw the cape over her, the man asked, “What can I do for you, miss?”

  “I want to have all my hair cut off.”

  “You want to have your entire head of hair cut off—all of it?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” she answered impatiently. She wanted out of this place.

  She saw he was looking over her head, as if he was looking at someone. She turned around to see who he was looking at and got the full force of a smile that was so sexy it left her breathless. Not only did he have a sexy smile, he smiled with his eyes, which caused his eyes to make those sexy, crinkly lines. She had a thing for crinkly, smiling eyes. She’d always thought when a man smiled at a woman with his eyes it made the smiling experience so personal. Call her foolish, but that’s how she felt.

  “Don’t tell me you are going to cut off all this beautiful hair,” he was saying, bringing her rudely back to the present.

  “Yes, I am. What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing, it is, after all, your hair, but I’d hate to see all this beautiful hair lying on the floor, dead, and your husband deprived of running his hand through it when the mood takes him.”

  “First of all, sir, I don’t have a husband, so no one is running his or her hands through my hair.”

  “No? What a shame.”

  Now she was feeling stupid. When she’d first walked in here, she was firm in her mind what she wanted, but after this silly conversation with this man, she was questioning her decision to chop off all her hair.

  “Des, give me the hair clippers,” he said to the guy who she thought was the barber.

  She realized he was planning on cutting her hair himself, something she did not want. She held herself rigidly in the chair.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Cut off all your beautiful hair. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  “I want my hair cut by a professional, licensed barber. Are you one of those?

  “I sure am. Look up on the wall next to the shop license. Mine is the second one to the left.”

  “No way,” she said, still refusing to allow him to cut her hair.

  Turning to the older, more experienced, and less gorgeous looking man, she asked him, “Is he really a licensed barber?”

  “He sure is, but if you are uncomfortable with him giving you a haircut, I’ll do it.”

  “Yes, please. I’m more comfortable with you cutting my hair.”

  “Why?” the gorgeous one with the killer smile asked. “You don’t know either one of us. What have I done to earn your displeasure?”

  “Please don’t take this personally, but I’m just more comfortable with him cutting my hair.”

  “Liar,” he whispered to her as he handed the clippers back to the older man. “You are a scared kitty cat.”

  This upset Lange because he’d hit the nail on the head. She was indeed scared of the way he made her feel just by smiling at her. She got up out of the chair, telling the guy she’d changed her mind about cutting off her hair.

  “I’m sorry. I have to get back to work. I’ve stayed away longer than I intended as it is. I’ll come back after work.”

  “Okay, it’ll be busier after work, so long as you don’t mind waiting, unless you prefer to schedule an appointment?”

  “That’s all right. I’ll take my chances.” There was no way in hell she was putting her personal information on paper here where it would be accessible to anyone. She would return the next day, and hopefully there’d be no Mr. Wonderful to distract her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lange was late returning to work and had spent the rest of the afternoon playing catch-up. She was more determined than ever to cut her hair off, but she’d made up her mind. If when she got there the place was busy, she would not wait. She would simply turn around and find a different barbershop. After all, this was not the only barbershop in town, but it was one of the best… It had a reputation.

  She was never so happy to see the end of the day and was about to cross the street to get to her car, which she had parked In the public parking lot, when she looked up, and there was the man from the barber shop—Mr. Wonderful. Just her luck to run into him. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize her if she kept her head down. She knew she was out of luck when she heard, “Hi, gorgeous.”

  He’d better not be talking to her. She did not consider herself gorgeous, not by any definition of the word. So she would just continue on her way and ignore him. Maybe he’d get the message and move on. She knew the game was up when she felt the slight tap on her shoulder. How the hell did he walk across the street so quickly? Is he a sprinter too? Now, she could play the polite card and acknowledge him or be downright rude and ignore him. In the end, her polite side won, and she turned to greet him.

  “Oh, hello…?”

  “Rupert,” he filled in. “I’ve been trying to get your attention from across the street, but you were very focused on getting home. Do you work around here?”

  “Yes, I work around here. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “Well, sometimes the fates step in and take matters out of our hands. So I see you still have your hair. Good.”

  “What’s good about it? My decision was only postponed; I’ll do it when I have a bit more time.”

  “I wish you’d reconsider…”

  Now it was her turn to fill in the blank. “Lange, actually Solange, but Lange to my friends.”

  “Lange, I like it. Do you have a last name, Lange?”

  “Yes, it’s Esnard.”

  “I’m Rupert Mellius.

  “Hi, Rupert Mellius, are you following me?”

  “I wish I could admit to that, but no. I happened to have a business meeting not too far from here. I was able to wrap it up much sooner than I expected.”

  “Good for you. Well, see you around.”

  “Where are you off to now?”

  “Where most working girls go after work—I believe, home.”

  “Can I interest you in having a drink with me?”

  “I don’t drink with strange men, sorry.”

  “It does not have to be alcoholic. How about a coffee then?”

  “I have to get to the barbershop before it closes.” This was the first thought that came to her head. Even if she’d already decided she was going to wait a couple weeks before doing away with her hair, he did not know that.

  “You won’t make it before the shop closes, if you are going back to Delfoni; we close at 5:00 P.
M. on weekdays. Now, unless you have some supernatural way of getting there without your feet touching the ground, then, by all means, try. If you intend to get there by the normal means, driving or walking, then it’s not happening, so how about that drink?”

  “I’m not a drinker, but I believe I have time for a quick coffee.”

  “Great. We’ll go to the Starbucks across the street. That way we won’t waste time driving to someplace else.”

  Lange stole a quick look at him under the pretext of searching for something in her bag. He was indeed a fine specimen of a man. Tall, like she liked her men, not that she’d ever had one. Her last boyfriend, Guy, was the same height as her, or almost. They had gone together for only three months, and during that time, they really saw each other only on the occasional weekend.

  She was glad when they parted ways. That had been nine month ago. She had not had any interest in the opposite sex since. Not because they had not tried. It was just that she was not interested, not until today. Today, she had to admit she was curious; there was something about Rupert that piqued her interest.

  ****

  Lange was mildly surprised to find she had such a wonderful time with Rupert. He was a good talker and a great listener. He had a way of looking at her when she talked, as if she was the most important person to him in the world. He gave her his full attention. Although that in itself was impressive, it was the way he could converse on any subject she brought up that was more so. He was opinionated without being overbearingly so. He made her laugh at his silly jokes, and before she knew it, a couple hours had gone by. He walked her to her vehicle, and taking her hand, he told her they had to do this again soon.