Hex Appeal Read Online Free PDF Page A

powerful was the drawing placed next to the text.
    A drawing of Jazz Tremaine that was so lifelike, so exquisitely real, she could have stepped off the paper. Every bare inch of flesh detailed in the drawing was absolutely perfect.

Chapter 2
    Jazz drove up to Santa Barbara, where she indulged in some shopping, then returned home at a leisurely pace, finally stopping in a small funky coastal town that looked like a movie set straight out of the 1940s. The seafood restaurant she chose sat on stilts overlooking the beach with a bar displaying fishing nets, colorful glass floats, and starfish for decoration. She ignored the looks of frank male interest directed her way as she was seated on the deck with a glass of wine and a perfect view of the sunset.
    The morning’s events had left her feeling uneasy. If Nick hadn’t bitten her, why did it feel so real at the time? And just what in Fates’ sake happened in the tub? Two unsettling dreams in less than twenty-four hours could not be a coincidence.
    She mentally vowed not to use the tub again until she thoroughly cleansed it. And not with Scrubbing Bubbles either.
    She may have been half-asleep at the time, but what touched her in the tub didn’t feel like a dream.
    Meaning...if that was the case, then the same could be said for what happened at Nick’s apartment.
    Meaning...magick.
    She preferred to dismiss that thought because she honestly didn’t want to think someone was casting spells against her. It was bad enough that she now had to find out what happened to Wereweasel Willie before Rex lost his patience and reported the slippers to the Ruling Council. He may have agreed to give her time to find out what happened, but Rex also believed in his own time-table, one that didn’t always agree with anyone else’s.
    Plus for now, she just wanted to relax and enjoy the evening. Her eyes focused on the horizon, admiring the play of gold, orange, and red on the ocean heralding the sunset. The faint silhouette of a porpoise jumping into the air and diving back into the water as the sun finished its descent caused her to smile. The votive candle set on the small round table flickered wildly in the ocean breeze, casting shadows across her face.
    â€œYou know, it’s never a good thing to see a pretty lady sitting alone.”
    Pretty lady? Jazz mentally summed up her unwanted visitor before she turned from the view to see who was interrupting her peace and quiet. One look told her she had it right on the mark.
    The man standing by her chair was about six feet tall with sun-bleached blond hair arranged in a tousled way that said he spent more time on his grooming than she did. His perfectly maintained tan was meant to show off his baby blues, and gym-toned pecs and six-pack abs were visible under a—natch—blue polo shirt tucked into designer jeans. A quick downward glance showed tanned bare feet shoved into Top-Siders that she’d bet her favorite cauldron had never stepped onto a boat deck.
    She smiled. “Sometimes the lady prefers to sit alone.” Go away before I turn you into a gingerbread boy and have you for dessert.
    Not accepting her mental hint, he flashed his bleached pearly whites and took the seat across from her. He set his whiskey glass down on the table.
    â€œI’m Thad.”
    â€œOf course you are.” She enjoyed his faint annoyance that his charm wasn’t getting through to her. It would have been so tempting to see what he’d look like as a frog. Or maybe a hermit crab. They were at the beach, after all. But she didn’t think the Witches’ Council would see it as improving his lot and she had that hundred-year’s probation to think about.
    â€œYou’re not local. I would have remembered you.” Thad’s eyes were centered on her breasts. “Where are you from? L.A.?”
    â€œYes.” She was always grateful her breasts weren’t centerfold material, but obviously