Read Must Be Magic (Spellbound) for Free Online Page A

path tripped her up—again—undoubtedly bordered on stupid.
    “How much did you have to drink tonight?” He stared straight ahead, focused on the path and not the fingers slipping under his collar to hold on.
    Darby relaxed in his arms and sighed, her breath hot on his neck. “Too much,” she mumbled sleepily. She lifted her head long enough to point to the third bungalow on the right.
    By the time he walked up the few steps to the small veranda she was practically snoring.
    “Key?”
    She toyed with the collar on his shirt. “Hmmm?”
    “Do you have a key?”
    “Inside.”
    Great.
    He looked at the doorknob. “Reserare.” His amulet warmed his skin from the burst of magic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used magic for something as simple as unlocking a door.
    Once he had the door open, he carefully set her on her feet. “Here you go.”
    “Thanks for the help, Councilor.” She leaned against the wall.
    Bryce scanned the room behind her and tried not to wince. Two suitcases were open, clothes trailing from one in all directions like some kind of bomb had detonated, scattering her stuff.
    At least half a dozen shoes were strewn about the room, a couple propped up beneath a gauzy yellow sundress laying across the back of a chair, as though she hadn’t made up her mind which ones she’d wear with her outfit.
    He’d bet his last paycheck that the bathroom hadn’t fared any better. He remembered the one she’d used during spring break and all the brushes, jewelry and makeup that had covered every inch of the vanity. He hadn’t realized one girl could use so much stuff.
    Things hadn’t changed all that much in that department.
    He set her sandals by the closet, and when he turned back around she was sliding down the wall.
    “I’m just going to sit here for a few minutes.”
    He glanced at the door, wondering if grabbing the blanket off the back of the small sofa and letting her get comfortable would really be so horrible of him when his own survival was at risk.
    Crouching down, he brushed away the hair stuck to her cheek.
    She smiled, her eyes heavy with sleep, and he felt his heart tug.
    “Up you go.” He guided her to her feet, smart enough not to put them in any closer physical contact than necessary.
    “I remember this Bryce Lancaster. The guy before he broke my heart.” She turned around, stumbling as she faced him. “I’ve missed him.”
    He stopped, telling himself he had no choice but to hold on to her or else she’d end up in a drunken pile on the floor.
    She leaned in like she was inhaling his scent, and her hair teased his jaw. She tipped her face up. The heat in her gaze would have stopped him in his tracks if the warm press of her body hadn’t already brought him to a standstill.
    “You know what?” she murmured.
    He tried like hell not to look at her mouth when he answered. It didn’t work. “What?”
    Her lips curved into a secretive smile. “Everything…everything is spinning.”
    Right. Spinning. Because of the alcohol.
    God, he needed to get his mind on something else. He picked up the book on the table beside her bed and tried not to laugh. Emphasis on tried .
    “What’s so funny?”
    He held up the book. “Isn’t this about vampires?”
    “Werewolves too, actually.” She yawned.
    “Doesn’t it strike you as funny, considering you’re a witch?”
    “Well, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but we witches do know how to read,” she confided.
    Nudging her around, he sat her on the edge of the bed, then grabbed one of the glasses on the table and filled it with water in the bathroom.
    His guess about the state of the bathroom had been dead-on, and after spotting the black silk panties hanging on the edge of the tub, he wished she were as much of a neat freak as he was.
    Darby had stretched out on the bed, her eyes closed, by the time he returned. He thought about making her drink a glass of water before she fell asleep for the night, then reminded