Read The Shoppe of Spells for Free Online

soaps. This was not what she’d expected, given the sign out front. She looked around. The inside was airy and inviting. Bottles of lotions, perfumes, and soaps rested neatly on glass shelves. Interspersed between the bottles were rocks and crystals. The effect was dazzling. On the other side were herbs and jars of—whatever—all neatly lined up. It looked like an organic gift shop. And, it smelled so good. Scents she knew. She sighed in relief.
    He wasn’t what she expected either. Hell, she didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t Mr. tall, dark and handsome with ice-blue eyes that seemed to cut right through her…and looked as though he was hoping to hit the jugular. Then, she saw the sadness in his eyes before he covered it with a glare. Up until now, all she’d felt were anger and confusion. It hit her. This man had just lost his parents—her parents. No. She still had her parents.
    He followed her across the room and stepped behind the counter, pulling several bottles from the shelves. He put drops on a small white ceramic disk. “Basil, vanilla, and a light citrus.” He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Yeah, that’s about right.” He held the flask under her nose. She sniffed.
    “How did you…?” It was her scent. The one she made for herself.
    He smiled at her for the first time. The smile didn’t quite reach his stormy blue eyes. Still, Morgan had the strange urge to reach out and push back the wave of hair that fell over his brow. She felt her stomach tighten. She grabbed the counter. He didn’t seem to notice.
    “This has evolved into an herbal apothecary, with gifts,” he said and waved his arm, encompassing the shop. “We don’t specialize in spells much anymore. Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he chided, “there was a time.”
    He moved around the counter. “Tea?”
    “Uh…sure.” She followed him toward the back.
    He led her down a small hallway, past a restroom and an office. A door to some sort of closet, she presumed, was tucked under the stairs. They entered a large kitchen.
    “My workroom. Have a seat.” He pointed to a table by a six-paned window. She looked around. Commercial appliances surrounded by lots of stainless steel. Nestled among beakers, flasks, and mortars and pestles were stones and crystals, softening the effect. She thought of the cramped galley kitchen she used to do her crafts. What she wouldn’t give— She stopped the thought.
    A sharp, single bark caught her attention. Dorian stepped to the screen door and opened it. “Meesha,” he said to the dog, “this is Morgan. Go greet our guest.” Tail wagging, the small Border Collie walked over and sat in front of Morgan. Ears raised and head tilted, she let out a soft woof.
    “Nice to meet you, too,” Morgan reached over and stroked the dog’s soft fur. The dog inched forward slightly, positioning herself for a better stroke. Morgan laughed.
    She watched as Dorian deftly poured hot water into a china pot, added a tea ball, and slipped it under a cozy to steep. He came and sat opposite her. She looked up and his eyes caught hers and held. She felt that tingle again. She looked out the window. Trellises lined the brick fencing. Roses and other flowers climbed and bloomed. Morgan leaned toward the window. Farther down, an espaliered peach tree ran along the brick wall in candelabra fashion.
    “I will show you the back in a little while,” he interrupted her musings, causing her to jump back, unsettling the teapot. Adroitly, he reached over and caught it with large, beautiful hands. Her gaze followed the sinewy arms to where they stretched out from rolled up sleeves and beyond, to well-formed biceps and broad shoulders. When she got to his face, she saw he was watching her.
    The blood rushed to her face and she looked down. She hadn’t been this awkward since junior high.
    He poured the tea and sat back, studying her. Embarrassed, she concentrated on the tea. The aroma hugged her senses. It was heaven.