Free Lost Souls (A Caitlyn O’Connell Novel) by Delilah Devlin Page A

be more forceful about his psychic flirting because Sam was sitting right beside her.
    “Imagine yourself inside that dreary hotel,” he said, a hint of amusement in his melodic voice.
    Sam cursed again. “How does he know about the hotel?”
    Cait shook her head to quiet him while filling her mind with the images: the shabby foyer, the yellowed walls and puke-colored carpets, the room with a gaping hole in the wall.
    “Now…” Morin said, his voice softening, deepening, drawing her in.
     
“Elementals, hear me, your humbled servant.
Bless this wanderer, this stubborn novice—”
    Cait peeked open one eye to give Morin a stealthy glare.
    He winked and raised a forefinger, and then indicated downward for her to close her eye again. Which she did, but not without letting him see she didn’t approve of his humor.
     
“I invoke your many blessings
To hold quiet dark spirits rising.
Let root and water insulate and shield,
While powers mingle and knowing builds.
I invoke your many blessings.
To hold quiet dark spirits rising.
So mote it be.”
    “So mote it be,” she repeated, then slowly opened her eyes.
    His features appeared a little haggard, as if somehow he’d aged. Then she blinked, only to find the old Morin, eyes glinting with devilish humor peering back.
    “That should do it, darling.” His hand withdrew. The warmth receded like an ebbing tide.
    She swallowed and met his dark, intense gaze and felt a weakening of her guard. She almost blurted that she’d missed him. Maybe the sentiment was something else he’d stirred into her tea.
    Determined to shake off the feeling, she straightened in her chair. “How do you know about the hotel? You aren’t psychic. Was Celeste just here?”
    “Since I don’t have any sense of time passing, I can only say she has been here twice since last I saw you. But no, she didn’t tell me about the hotel.”
    “Then how?”
    “She brought me something for safekeeping.” His gaze slid away to land on the workbench behind her.
    Turning in her chair, she spied a crystal ball, its rosy hues unmistakable. “My mother’s ball? Celeste gave that to you?”
    Morin gave her one of his glib smiles. “It’s not mine. Or even Lorene’s anymore. You charged it last. I simply used its connection to see what you’ve been doing.”
    “You’ve been spying on me?” Disbelief had her voice rising.
    Morin shrugged nonchalantly while his gaze honed. “I wouldn’t call it that. Just keeping abreast. To ensure your safety, my dear.”
    “And just what have you seen?” She gasped and pressed against her chest. Good Lord, her mind went straight to the intimate parts of her life.
    “I’ve watched you studying your mother’s book. I’m pleased you’re resuming your studies.”
    “I’m not—” she started to lie, then had another thought. “What else have you seen?”
    “I know that your husband—”
    “
Ex
-husband—”
    “Doesn’t trust you. He can’t resist you, but he doesn’t trust you.”
    A low growl sounded beside her, and she slipped a hand to the bunched muscles of Sam’s thigh to warn him not to react. She’d take care of this. “This is outrageous. Even for you, Morin.”
    He pulled back as though struck, and she felt a moment’s remorse. But hey, he’d probably been watching her andSam make love, something Sam was going to figure out pretty damn quick.
    Anger boiled up inside. However, Cait had always been honest with herself. Anger wasn’t the only thing she felt. Arousal wound deep inside at the thought of what this decadent man might have seen. Heat flushed her cheeks and tightened her nipples. Reactions Morin noted, no doubt, given his steady stare.
    His pupils dilated. “But you aren’t here to fight.”
    I’m also not here to make love,
she almost countered. His voice was that seductive rumble that never failed to skitter deliciously along her spine, making her excruciatingly aware of every little change in her body as her desire