Double Dating with the Dead (2 page)

“Okay.” He started down the open hall.

Okay? Just okay? What the hell did that mean?

“Hey!”

He stopped and set his luggage on the floor again, then walked to the railing and stared down at her. “You wanted something else?”

She felt very tiny looking up at him, but she wouldn't let him get to her. “What do you mean by ‘okay'?”

“It means I accept your challenge.”

“Oh.” She bit her bottom lip.

Damn, she was adorable. And this was going to be the easiest bet he'd ever won. He had a feeling it would be the most enjoyable, too.

He turned and went back to his suitcases.

“It wasn't my challenge! It was yours! I'm the one who didn't back down!”

He began to whistle a tune under his breath as he continued down the hall. Something thumped, almost as if she'd stomped her foot. He chuckled.

He went to the first room and opened the door. It was just as deplorable as the rest of the hotel.

After he set his cases down, he reached inside his pocket for his cell phone, then glanced at his watch. Tye, his brother, should be home. He'd said he was going to the gym this morning, but it was nearly noon. Trent punched in the number and waited.

“Your nickel,” Tye answered.

“I need some things.”

“As in?”

“The place is in shambles. I'll need to at least make a portion of it liveable.”

“I can be there in half an hour.”

“Good.” He started to hang up, but Tye began talking again.

“What's she like? She's there, isn't she?”

“She's here. If I wake up some night with my throat cut, it'll be on your conscience for convincing me I should accept her challenge.”

“You've never backed down from anything. You wanted to accept.”

Maybe he had and just not realized it. When had his life gotten so predictable? He'd needed something—a change—but he wasn't sure Selena was the remedy.

“What's she like?” Tye repeated.

He sighed, knowing Tye wouldn't get off the phone until he told him something. “Selena James is cute, but demented.”

There was a thumping noise in the hallway. He turned. Selena glared at him, her suitcases on the floor beside her, hands on her hips. He'd have to remember to watch what he said, or the next thing he knew, she'd be putting a hex on him or something.

“Talk to you later.” He closed his phone and tossed it onto the bare mattress. A little cloud of dust rose up.

“Change your mind about sharing a room?” he asked.

“Now I'm demented?” she countered, ignoring his question.

“At least you see your shortcomings and admit to them.”

Her mouth puckered as if she'd just bitten into a lemon. He couldn't resist goading her a little more.

He sauntered to the doorway. “If we share a room, we'll only have to clean one to make it liveable.”

“The last place you'll get me is in your bed.” She grabbed her suitcases up and tromped down the hall.

Even as mad as she was, her hips had the sexiest sway he'd ever seen. He leaned against the doorframe and continued to watch. She didn't stop until she came to the last room on the right.

He'd baited her, and it was the most fun he'd had in a long time.

She glared at him again before she went inside the room. When she slammed the door, he grinned. She was definitely sexy, he'd give her that. Damned sexy. And she had backbone. None of the women he knew would've gotten as far as the first step let alone come inside the dirty old hotel.

He shut his door, whistling beneath his breath as he put one of his cases on the bed and unzipped it.

And she was definitely interested. Why else would she pinch him?

He changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then slipped on a pair of sneakers. His hands stilled when he reached to tie his shoes.

What the hell was he thinking? They weren't ever going to
be
anything. She'd said they were enemies and she'd been right. As soon as his exposé hit the shelves, she would be furious. The manuscript should be the only thing he thought about. Not getting laid.

Hell, he'd made the challenge only because he'd thought she'd back down. He never expected her to take him up on it. A slow smile curved his lips. Just as quickly, it turned downward. He wouldn't make her pay up when she lost, either.

And she
would
lose.

It did make him wonder why she'd even agreed to the bet in the first place. Could she really believe she might convince him the hotel was haunted? If that was the case, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

He finished tying his shoes and reached inside his suitcase for his notebook. For a moment he was thoughtful; then he began to write.

First impression: Miss James is cute and very determined. I wonder if she actually believes what she writes in her columns. Up close she doesn't look the type who would be out to make a buck, but one can never be too sure.

Before the two weeks are up, I'll know what her game is, and when I do, so will the rest of the world.

An odd sensation washed over him. There was something suddenly distasteful about writing a tell-all book that would totally destroy Selena. It would be like throwing dirt on her coffin. But then, her profession had been her choice, not his. He slowly closed his black notebook and tossed it back in his suitcase before walking out of his room.

T
rent started down the stairs just as the front door banged open and a wild woman entered in a flurry, her jewel-toned multicolored skirt and beaded shawl edged with long fringe flying around her.

No ghosts, but the old hotel seemed to have a witch. When she whirled around, he thought she might take off in flight as the hem of her shawl flew straight out behind her like a condor opening its impressive wingspan, ready to launch itself into the wide-open space.

Slowly, his gaze traveled over her, starting with her orange curly hair. Hair that bright would make a blind man squint. That wild of a shade could only have come from a bottle, but why someone would intentionally color her hair that orange was beyond him.

If her hair color wasn't enough to draw everyone's attention, then the clashing red headband surely would. And if you still didn't notice her, then the clanking of the many bracelets on her wrists should.

“Mom!” Selena spoke from behind him.

Mom? Great.

Selena's mother looked up. She reminded him of a hungry lioness ready to protect her child from the predator that had stalked and attempted to eat her baby.

“You!” She pointed a finger at him. “You've defiled psychics everywhere. I curse you!”

“Did you bring anything to eat, Mom? I'm starved.” Selena bounced down the stairs two at a time and hugged her mother.

Apparently, cursing people was an everyday occurrence with her mother.

“Of course,” her mother said with a loud sniff.

An older man with a smile on his face came inside the hotel. “Where do you want this stuff, Angela?” He raised the small box he carried.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, baby girl.” His smile widened.

When Angela waved her hands, her bracelets clanked. “Take the box into the kitchen.” She proceeded to show him exactly where she wanted him to go.

“Reinforcements?” he asked Selena when he joined her downstairs. “Can't trust yourself to be alone with me, can you?” Before she could answer, he continued. “Admitting you're wrong about ghosts wouldn't be that hard. By tonight you could be in your own bed.” More importantly, he could be in his.

She cast a look in his direction that should've turned him to a cube of ice.

It didn't.

Goading Selena was starting to become a lot of fun. Why shouldn't he kick back and enjoy life a little? Tye said he was too stuffy.

As long as he didn't forget his ultimate purpose, and the bottom line was that Selena was a fraud and she had to be stopped.

“They're here to help clean the place,” Selena said. “Do you have any objection? Or do you like to wallow in dirt? Outside of the books you write, that is.”

He'd always referred to his books as digging up the dirt on frauds. She'd been paying attention. Interesting that she would.

“Since it seems we're going to be living here for the next two weeks, I won't complain if they help clean the place.” When she turned toward the back of the hotel, he added, “As long as they've had their shots.”

Her shoulders squared, but she didn't say anything as she tromped in the direction her mother had gone. His glance lowered. Damn, she had a sexy walk.

He raised his eyes when her father came from the back. It was a little unnerving having Selena's father around when Trent lusted after the man's daughter.

“Selena's a good girl,” her father said as he came back empty-handed, apparently having deposited his box.

“That may be true, but it doesn't mean I believe what she stands for.”

The same violet-colored eyes as Selena's met his head-on. “Fair enough, but I figure by the time the challenge is over she'll have made a believer out of you.”

He snorted. “That there are such things as ghosts? I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you.”

“We'll see.” He glanced around the open foyer, a knowing look on his face. He started to walk away, but at the last minute turned back. “By the way, in case you get any ideas about Selena, I just want you to know I wasn't always a lawyer. I grew up hunting wild boar, and I can shoot a fly off a stump fifty yards away.” He didn't wait for an answer, but continued out the door.

“Hi, Uncle Jess. Hey, Selena! Where do you want this stuff?” A perky young woman with bobbed blond hair came in carrying another box.

“In here,” Selena yelled from the back.

The young woman cast Trent a saucy smile as she sailed up to him and stopped. “I'm Paige, Selena's cousin.” She eyed him as though she wanted to eat him whole. “You're yummy! If it gets too spooky here, you can always come stay at my place.”

“But then that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?” he told her.

“Now, that's according to what purpose you had in mind.” She slowly ran her tongue over her lips. Another sexy lady but for some reason he didn't feel the same kind of pull that he did with Selena.

“You have any ghosts haunting your house?” he asked, wondering if she was every bit as crazy as the rest of the James clan.

“Not that I know of.” She chuckled, a low, kind of throaty sound.

“Then you don't talk to the dead?”

“Not one little bit.”

“At least some of Selena's family is normal.”

“Of course I'm normal. I'd hate for you to think otherwise.” Her eyes twinkled as if she knew a secret that he didn't.

“What exactly do you do for a living?” he asked.

She shifted her box and waltzed past him, throwing back at him, “I'm a witch.” Right before she rounded the corner, she looked over her shoulder and grinned. “Be careful I don't put a hex on you.” She traipsed out of sight.

His eyes narrowed. Yeah, right, a hex. That was how shysters worked. They played on what might happen and made people believe they had something to do with it. If he broke something, she would claim it was the hex. It was the easiest con in the world, and people fell for it every day.

He was right the first time; crooks ran in the Jameses' family.

The next person through the now revolving door of the hotel made him sigh with relief. Tye.

“Damn, bro, this place is really spooky. I wouldn't doubt for a second it's haunted. You couldn't pay me to stay here for two weeks.” He shifted the box he carried to his other arm.

Selena came from the back and had apparently overheard Tye's comments because the look she cast Trent was full of “I told you so.”

“Apparently, your brother doesn't share the same views as you,” she said, looking straight at him. “He knows a haunted house when he sees one.” She stuck her hand toward Tye. “I'm Selena James.”

Tye dropped his box on the floor and took Selena's outstretched hand in his. “A pleasure to meet the woman who talks to the dead. You should have a lot to discuss with my brother since he hasn't been with the living for quite some time.”

Trent frowned. “Funny.” Apparently, Selena thought so since she chuckled before skipping out the door to help cart in more supplies. “Traitor,” he told Tye.

“Can you blame me? How the hell did you get so lucky to spend two weeks alone with her?” He shook his head.

“Luck? I don't think so.” His gaze moved to the door. Luck had nothing to do with it.

But as the hours passed he found his gaze more often than not straying to Selena as he watched her clean. She was a con, he kept reminding himself.

A damned beautiful one, though.

 

Selena stared out the upstairs window down to the circular driveway below her. She was tired and dirty. They'd all been working steadily for the last four hours. Her parents were finishing up the kitchen while she tackled her room.

A couple more of her cousins had shown up along with some of Trent's friends, and everyone was busy cleaning. For some strange reason she hadn't thought Trent would have any friends.

Now she was being catty. He deserved it, though, for saying what he had on television.

But as she stared out the window, she couldn't for the life of her feel like living with him for two weeks would be that much of a hardship.

Wow, the man really looked hot in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. When he picked up something, the fabric pulled taut across his broad chest. Yum, bulging muscles. Very nice. Her mouth watered. The man definitely worked out.

It was nice to know he did more than persecute innocent psychics.

He stretched to get something out of Tye's pickup, and she melted. Trent Sanders was a jerk, but he had a damn good bod.

Her dull, lackluster life didn't seem quite so boring anymore. Not that she was prepared to lose their bet or anything. She wasn't going to fall under his spell to the point of tucking her tail between her legs and slinking away.

Nope, she was certain she'd be able to change his mind about ghosts, and she had two weeks to do it. She frowned. At least she hoped she would be able to convince him. She rather liked her career.

There was more to it than just her livelihood. She liked helping people. Losing people you loved was always hard, but knowing they were watching over you sometimes made it easier to handle.

“What'cha lookin' at?” Paige asked as she came up beside her.

“Damn it, Paige! You scared the hell out of me.” She glared at her cousin, who only raised a sardonic eyebrow.

“I
scared
you?
The woman who talks to dead people?” She leaned forward and peered out the window. “Something must've really captured your attention…. Oh ho, nice view.”

Selena straightened, spraying glass cleaner on the panes. “I was not staring at Trent if that's what you're implying.” She furiously wiped the panes clean.

“You weren't?”

Her lips trembled, then curved upward. “Of course I was staring at him. Good Lord, he's delicious.”

“Too bad he's an ass.”

Selena gave up the pretense that she was cleaning the window and stared down at him.

“I could almost forget what he said about me,” she murmured.

“You can't, though. Remember, he made all psychics look ridiculous. Sales in my store are down. It's like everyone is waiting to see what happens over the next two weeks.”

Paige owned a small store in town that sold amulets and books on psychic phenomena, incense and an array of beaded scarves that she designed herself.

She did tarot card readings and occasionally would cast a spell if the need were great. Only good spells, though…well, most of the time.

In the back of her store was a small tearoom where she served specialty teas and finger sandwiches. The ambience couldn't be matched.

“Would you like me to cast a spell on him?” Paige asked.

“Not yet, but hold that thought. I might need one later on.”

“You're right about one thing,” Paige said.

“What?” Selena pulled her gaze away from the window.

“He's definitely delicious. His brother isn't bad, either. But remember, if no ghosts show themselves, it won't be your fault. You still have a decent following.”

Selena nibbled her bottom lip. “There's more to it than that.”

“As in?”

“We made a…uh, a sort of wager on the side.”

“Wager? What kind of wager?”

Selena picked up the roll of paper towels and tore one off. “It was nothing really. It's not like I'll lose.” She began to wipe the grime off the glass.

“But in case you do, what exactly will you lose?”

“I'm not going to lose,” she scoffed, then let her gaze slowly move around the room. “I mean, I can feel a presence here.”

Paige glared at her, clearly frustrated. “What kind of wager, Selena?”

“Okay, okay. One night in his bed.” She looked away when Paige's eyes grew as round as saucers.

“That wasn't good.”

Selena paused, glancing out the window. “Well, it all depends on how you look at it. Losing wouldn't be good. I hate losing. But I have a feeling one night in his bed would be glorious.”

“Better not tell Auntie Angela. I don't think your mother would agree with you.”

“Tell Mom? Not on your life.” She shuddered at the thought. Her mother probably thought she was still a virgin. Uh-huh, sure. The only twenty-eight-year-old virgin in Texas.

Not that she was going to tell her any different. Selena was quite content to let her mother live in her little fantasy world where she thought her daughter was still pure.

Selena swiped at the last pane and tossed the used paper towel into the trash can she'd unearthed.

“Help me drag the mattress downstairs. It doesn't look too bad, but it needs to air.” Selena grabbed one end while Paige grappled with the other. The mattress fit a full-sized bed. It wasn't that heavy, but definitely bulky.

A cloud of dust poofed up in front of Paige's face. She coughed and waved it away. “I wouldn't want to stay here for two weeks. Besides all this dust, how do you even know the ghosts are friendly?” Paige grunted as she lifted her end.

“I don't, although I haven't sensed any bad vibes. I'll know more when I get a chance to meditate.”

“I like what you've done with the room, by the way,” Paige said, switching gears. “It's simple.” She chuckled. “Precaveman.”

“I'm not laughing.”

The room
was
sparse. Hardwood floors, a scarred dresser and a cheap painting on the wall.

A few hooked rugs scattered about and a couple of her mother's crocheted doilies would do wonders to warm the room up.

She squared her shoulders. It was only for a couple of weeks. But she sort of felt sorry for the place and for some reason didn't want Paige talking bad about it. “I kind of like the hotel. It has a wonderful, rich history. Can't you just imagine what it was like a hundred years ago?”

“You've always been fascinated with history. Antiques, old buildings…dead people. While you're wallowing in the past you'd better not forget that Trent is a living, breathing human being or you might find yourself in a position you don't want to be in. Like on your back.” She chuckled.