The Contestant Flies Off the Handle: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #7 Page 4

  Cara’s eyes widened. “Isaac? Why does that name sound familiar?”

  He caught a hint of something in her eyes. Was she toying with him? Or did she really not remember that week when they’d fallen in love? Something he had to take a potion to forget, and she’d just forgotten? He had difficulty believing it.

  He smiled at her. “You’re awfully young for memory problems like this.”

  “Isaac!” Dixie sounded shocked.

  His brothers stared at him.

  Cara just smiled. “And you’re awfully old to assume young women should know you.”

  Now the three turned to stare at Cara.

  “Remember a certain cruise ship?” he said. “Five years ago? You were partying up a storm. Perhaps you drank too much to remember.”

  Dixie stepped in and took Cara’s arm. “We don’t have to stay here and talk with him, Cara. He’s being incredibly rude.”

  She patted Dixie’s hand. “It’s all right. He’s amusing me. Besides, I want to remember.”

  Then she tipped her head, as if trying to remember. She was toying with him. And that thought filled him with hope.

  He wondered if this was why the Oracle had told him to be involved with the pageant.

  He wanted to see if Cara really was his lifemate. He wasn’t feeling the lifemate buzz at the moment — but then the potion would have blunted that. And he wasn’t ready to feel the buzz, either, because it obviously had kept him from thinking clearly before.

  He wanted to get to know her without the buzz overwhelming his senses.

  He’d keep taking the potion and spend time with her. Get to know her. Use his brain instead of his instincts and feelings. Surely he’d be able to tell if she was the woman for him. And surely in the past five years, she’d have matured and become ready for a relationship.

  Why did he have to be so good looking still? He hadn’t aged a day. Neither had she, but she’d hoped he’d grown all old and ugly in the intervening years, and he definitely had not. He looked handsome — and manlier somehow.

  Toned muscles filled out his suit, his face looked more serious, and he had looked absolutely delighted to see her when he recognized her.

  “What were we talking about?” she asked him.

  “The cruise ship,” he prodded.

  Shadow strolled over and sat between Isaac and Cara. Behave, Cara told the cat.

  You behave.

  Isaac wanted her to remember, so she did, but maybe not in the way he was hoping. “Isaac on a cruise ship.” She crunched her forehead like she couldn’t quite make the connection.

  “Five years ago,” he said drily. “To the Caribbean.”

  “Oh, yes. The trip with my family. How could I have forgotten that?”

  He looked hurt. Good. “We spent a great deal of time together on that cruise.”

  She smiled as sweetly as she could. “I do remember that. It was a beautiful shipboard romance, and I had a wonderful time.”

  “Shipboard romance,” he stated flatly.

  “Isn’t that what you considered it?”

  “I remember telling you that you were my lifemate.”

  “It was a good line, too. It certainly made me think I was special.”

  Dixie and the others had stepped away, apparently not wanting to be within lobbing range of the verbal explosives. Some of the nearby contestants were looking at them strangely, too.

  All of a sudden, Shadow extended her claws — and ripped across the bottom hem of Isaac’s suit.

  He pulled his leg back. “What the—?”

  The cat strolled off as if he hadn’t just ruined an expensive suit.

  Isaac stared after the animal. “Whose cat is that?”

  Cara raised her hand. “Guilty.”

  “It’s your cat?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you tell it to do that?”

  “Do I look like I can talk with animals?” Good work, Shadow.

  Thanks. The cat sat and licked his paw.

  He stared down at his hem, then at the cat, then narrowed his eyes at Cara. “I was hoping you’d have grown up some in the last decade, but it looks like you haven’t.”

  “All of the women here are younger than you, without all of your vast life experience.”

  “But you’re twenty-four now.”

  “Sure and what difference would that be making to you then, Isaac Murphy? I’m just another contestant.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ll never be just anything.”

  His words caught at her heart, and she pushed back hard. No way was she going to let him sweet talk her again! She’d fallen for his blarney before, but never again. “I’ll be just a party girl all my life, apparently.”

  And she walked off, following her cat. Shadow raised a paw and Cara leaned down and let him give her a high five as she passed.

  She joined the people at the refreshment table. There were filled wineglasses. The contents were the same color, but little signs designated the area with the Merl-O for the vampires, wine, and just plain grape juice. She positioned herself in front of the table with her back to Isaac so he wouldn’t see her moving a grape juice-filled wineglass over in front of the wine-filled glasses.

  Then, turning back to see him watching her, she lifted the glass — that he’d think was filled with wine — and drained the entire thing. Setting the cup down on the table, she smiled at him and waved. Then she turned to the handsome werewolf beside her. “Hi.”

  He beamed down at her. “Hello, beautiful.”

  And she proceeded to flirt shamelessly. When she grew tired of flirting with him, she said, “I need to circulate a little.”

  “Maybe I’ll see you again,” he said, hopefully.

  She smiled. “Maybe.”

  As she walked away from the table, she saw Isaac, now in conversation with his father.

  She lifted her purse so no one could see her using her wand — and cast a minor spell on Isaac. It was childish and petty of her, but he’d earned it.

  When he reached behind to try and scratch his back, up high where it was hard to reach from either direction, she smiled.

  She might have to be here in town with him, but she was going to avoid Isaac Murphy, attorney at law, like the plague — no matter what the cost.

  She turned and caught Chicory’s gaze. The other witch was studying her with a slight frown on her face.

  Cara walked over to Chicory and whispered, “Remember the story I told everyone at lunch about the man on the cruise?”

  Chicory nodded.

  “I didn’t know his last name, then, but now I do. He was Isaac Murphy.”

  “Ahhhh,” Chicory said and smiled. “I totally get it now. Things are about to get interesting.”

  Cara snorted. “Not if I can help it.”

  Mariana sauntered out of their shared bathroom, moving with catlike grace.

  The fact that she was wearing pajamas covered with yellow one- and two-eyed Minions was in direct contrast to the aura of danger she wore like a cloak.

  Cara couldn’t quite stifle a laugh.

  Mariana looked down at herself. “What?”

  Cara shook her head and laughed. “A werecat wearing Minion jammies is funny.”

  Mariana gave the slightest of smiles and sat on her bed, bouncing a little. “Gotta laugh about something.”

  “That we do.” Cara sighed, pulled her legs up onto the bed, and sat cross-legged.

  On the other bed, Mariana did the same thing.

  They stared at each other for a full minute. Finally, Mariana said, “I need to stay in the pageant. I need to win the prize.”

  “Tell me why you have to stay in, because according to the rules on the contract I signed to get into this pageant, I should report your condition.”

  Normally, they wouldn’t speak in normal voices because the other supernaturals in the other rooms could hear — but the Wildwood Hotel had rooms soundproofed against supernatural hearing.

  Mariana nodded.
“Okay. I get that. But first tell me how on earth you could possibly know my condition.”

  Cara smiled. “I’m an earth witch and I have my magic, plus a few extras. I’m an animal whisperer and my magic is specially attuned to them. I can hear some of them talking to me in my head.”

  Shadow jumped up on the bed. Cara scratched his favorite spot on his neck.

  “Like your cat? What’s she saying right now?”

  Cara looked down at her. “What do you say, Shadow?”

  A little to the right.

  Cara laughed. “She told me to scratch a little to the right.”

  “So you know I’m pregnant.”

  There followed a, well, a pregnant pause. Pun intended.

  Then Cara nodded. “How far along are you?”

  “Two months. I should be able to get through the nine days of the pageant without showing.”

  “We all have a good reason to win. I, myself, have an excellent reason. My family needs one of the prizes. So convince me you need to win enough that I don't improve my odds of winning.”

  Mariana sighed, and her Romanian accent grew a little more intense. “I have to stay in the pageant because if my family finds out I’m pregnant and I’m thrown out, my family will consider that I’ve tainted their honor and they will cast me out. I will be disowned.”

  “I thought big cats were solitary creatures,” Cara said.

  “Normal big cats are, except lions, but some paranormal cats live in family groups. I’m a werelion, and we live in prides. I would definitely be disowned.”

  “There are lions in new Transylvania?”

  “Romania has lions, yes. And a healthy werelion community.”

  “Do you live in the open?”

  “We live in a town much like this one, in a forested area of Romania. It’s called Codru.”

  “So your family — your pride — would really disown you?” Cara thought of her own family. If she were in a similar condition, her family would be disappointed, but they certainly wouldn’t disown her or cast her out.

  “Yes,” Mariana said simply — and sincerely. “So I’ve pretended not to be pregnant.”

  “Why didn’t you just get married? Wouldn’t that solve the problem?”

  “Let me start at the beginning,” Mariana chuffed. “And you stop interrupting. This is hard enough to share.”

  Cara nodded. “Ah, sure, I’ll keep quiet and hear you out.”

  Mariana took a moment to center herself. “I met Andrei when he came to visit with his cousin, who lives in my town. He was so handsome and I fell for him — hard. He told me he loved me, and I loved him, and he promised we’d marry. He said his love was forever.”

  Echoes of Cara’s cruise. Too close for comfort, at least. That made Cara more sympathetic to Mariana’s story already.

  Mariana sighed. “He swept me off my feet — and right into bed. And he stayed in town for a few months, wooing me and swearing his forever love. Right up until the time I told him I was expecting. One month ago. He was gone by the following morning. His cousin said he had business to attend to and wouldn’t be back in town for a long time.”

  Mariana shook her head. “My parents have been looking forward to me competing in this pageant since the last one a decade ago. So I couldn’t not be in it.”

  Wow. If Cara’s family didn’t need her to win so badly, she’d actually want Mariana to win the pageant! But she couldn’t give up her chance to regain her family’s runestones.

  When Mariana was quiet for a moment, Cara raised her hand. “May I speak now?”

  Mariana nodded.

  “So you don't have to win? Just stay in until the end?”

  “Yes, because then I can return to my pack and then reveal I’m expecting. They will ask one of our pack wolves to step up and marry me — and this time, I will accept.”

  “What if you do win?”

  “Then I will take the winnings and sell it, and invest for my child’s future, and my own.”

  Mariana turned her eyes to Cara. “Will you please keep my secret?”

  Cara wished she could report the other woman, but how could she with those eyes, and that story, and that request?

  Cara sighed. “Sure and I’m a fool, but I will.”

  Mariana jumped up and hugged her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  Cara laughed. “Down, girl.”

  Mariana smiled broadly as she sat back on her own bed.

  Later, as she lay in bed, listening to the werecat’s soft breathing as she slept, Cara wondered why her parents hadn’t sent her prettier sisters — and if they really all got engaged in one night. What were the odds of that happening?

  Probably about the same as Cara winning the pageant.

  She wondered if her family had enough money to buy back the runestones, because, besides Mariana, there were forty-eight women more beautiful than Cara.

  Finally, she rolled over and punched her pillow. She had to get some sleep. The pageant started tomorrow and she didn’t need dark circles under her eyes.

  I Loved the Smoke and Mirrors

  ALL THREE OF THE WILDWOOD Hotel ballrooms had been combined and transformed overnight into a magical realm — magically. Apparently the fairies had been involved, because it looked like some sort of fairyland.

  Isaac would have to ask Dixie about it, as she was involved in the decorations, along with her pixie sister, Princess Pixie.

  A rainbow hung in the air, arched over the castle in the distance that was partially hidden by a light mist. Flowers hung from the walls and ceiling. In one corner, three majestic unicorns pawed the ground in a pretty paddock. A brook bubbled by halfway through the room and butterflies floated through the air.

  He had to give the pixies credit — they had truly created a wonderland.

  A large banner proclaiming “Welcome to the Miss Paranormal Universe Pageant Talent Show” framed the top edge of the stage, which had large bouquets of white flowers on either side.

  It had already been a long day, and he hadn’t caught even a glimpse of the woman who’d disturbed his sleep last night. She was the forty-third out of fifty performers in the talent show. The woman on stage now was number forty-one. He’d stood by while women twirled batons — just like mundane pageants — did magic, and used their various supernatural abilities. By far the most disturbing was Miss New Orleans, Antoinette Fontaine, doing a ritual voodoo dance. It had made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

  He’d taken his Happy Be potion this morning, so he was surprised that he still felt a little excitement at the thought of seeing her again and seeing what she could do magically.

  Today, Isaac’s job was to handle any problems that arose, and notify security if necessary. He even wore one of those silly headsets.

  It was taking every ounce of his self-control to be pleasant to the female agent standing beside him. Angela Newell was a rare phoenix shifter, and she smiled up at him like she’d like nothing better than to eat him with a spoon. Her voice was sultry. “So you’re an attorney?”

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on the stage where Miss Germany, Johanna Wagner, the Ghost of Wartburg Castle, was announced and floated onstage in a transparent state.

  In her heavily accented English, Johanna said, “I will now present my talent of visibility.” Then she proceeded to appear more solid until she stood there looking as though she was a living, breathing person. Impressive.

  The audience clapped — and she faded again.

  “I bet you see a lot of exciting things in your profession.”

  He looked down at the woman, who looked more like a tiny blonde actress than a top-notch agent. Maybe he could distract her from asking questions. “Why aren’t you in the pageant?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “Do you think I’m pretty enough?”

  Was this woman really a member of the elite Paranormal SWAT squad? Supernatural Weapons and Tactics. She’d come highly recommended from Walter Clemmons, director of the new local Council
office.

  The ghostly body floated back off the stage, and the MC came back on, clapping. “That was a grand show of control, Miss Germany.” As the clapping died down, he said, “Next is Miss Texas, Riley Garcia, who is going to show some of her vampiric superpowers.”

  The shapely brunette appeared at the microphone as if by magic, a blur. Wow. She was fast. Riley said, “I thought it might be too intimidating to move so quickly you can hardly track me and drink your blood, so I’m simply going to show you how quickly I can move. Even for a vampire, I’m fast.”

  Suddenly she was gone again — and then reappeared at the far end of the stage. Clapping started again.

  He glanced down at Angela to find her smiling at him still. She said, “I was thinking it might be wise for you and I to act sort of chummy. That will make people pay attention to that rather than the fact that we’re in law enforcement.”

  “I’m not in law enforcement.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She put her hand around his elbow and leaned in close, whispering up at him, “See, this works well.”

  Miss Texas zapped herself off the stage and the MC returned, whistling. “That was some mighty fast movement, even for a vampire. And now we have a change of pace. Our next contestant is Miss Ireland, Cara O’Sullivan, and she is apparently an animal whisperer. But don’t take her word for it — we’ve brought some young, untamed unicorns from Hooves and Horns Unicorn Ranch to see if she can calm them down.”

  Then Cara walked out onto the stage, dynamite in a small package. Her long riotous red hair spiraled about her face and down her back.

  She looked out over the crowd and found his gaze.

  A handler led one of the unicorns onto the stage. The majestic beast was bucking and rearing, pulling back, and it seemed the handler was struggling.

  Cara stepped forward, closer to the big animal, and put a hand up. She closed her eyes and he felt the need to protect her. He almost took a step forward to go to her aid, but resisted, which was good because Angela still had hold of his arm.

  The unicorn continued to rear up, but suddenly there was a faint blue swirl of energy rising from Cara and swirling around in ever-increasing circles until the unicorn was encompassed. The animal stopped rearing, but still backed away.