The Wedding Spell
The Wedding Spell
Donna Fletcher
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Wedding Spell
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2011 by Donna Fletcher
Printing History
Jove edition/ April 1999
Cover art: The Killion Group
eBook Format by A Thirsty Mind Book Design
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http://www.donnafletcher.com/
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Epilogue
Excerpt from Magical Moments
Titles by Donna Fletcher
About the Author
Chapter One
“You need a lover.”
Alisande Wyrrd smiled and swung her long, slim legs over the side of the chaise lounge. The white gauze cotton dress she wore brushed her ankles as she walked barefoot across the white marble tiles to join her aunt on the wicker settee.
Her aunt gave her niece’s hand a comforting pat. “I would be remiss in my duties as your aunt, but even more remiss in my duties as a witch, if I failed to remind you of the necessity of finding a decent lover.”
“Being three hundred years old, Aunt Sydney, I don’t think a lecture is necessary.”
“Then do tell me, my dear Ali, why have you allowed so many years to pass without having a lover?”
Before Alisande could offer an explanation, her aunt continued.
“You know all too well that too much time spent on this earthly plane without a lover can diminish your magical powers considerably and now only a magnificent love affair with a powerful man will restore your abilities. And powerful men can be difficult to deal with.”
Alisande understood her aunt’s concern, especially given the fact that her aunt assumed that she would choose a male witch, and male witches, particularly potent male witches, could prove much too difficult to handle. Alisande, however, had a different idea. She had long studied mortal males and found them quite appealing. They could be charming and loving and a few exceptional ones could be extremely powerful in presence and attitude. She planned on finding such a male.
“I knew it,” her aunt said with concern. “You want a mortal male, don’t you?”
Alisande ran a pale pink fingernail down the front of her dress and toyed with the tiny pearl button that sat nestled between her full breasts. “I find them fascinating.”
“Mortal males can be dangerous,” her aunt warned. “They come with mortal flaws.”
“I think I’m up to the challenge of dealing with simple mortal traits.”
“You must remember that your powers aren’t up to snuff.”
Alisande laughed, throwing her head back, her long, honey-blond hair rushing in riotous waves down her back to rest at her slim waist. “Which means the man I choose may just have a fighting chance.”
“Not even in his dreams, my dear, will he have a fighting chance,” her aunt said with a catlike smile.
“Alisande giggled. “You’re right. After all, he’s only mortal.”
“Which leads me to ask, where do you intend to find this exceptional male?”
Alisande smiled at her aunt like a child about to ask for a forbidden treat. “I thought perhaps you would help. You are a powerful seer, the most powerful seer I have ever had the privilege to meet, and—”
Aunt Sydney stopped her. “Flattery will not help you in this situation, and you know full well that I am not the most powerful seer you have ever met, and you also know full well that a wise seer never interferes in matters of the heart. You will never learn life lessons if the answers are easily provided.”
Alisande cast a petulant and playful pout. “Then I have no choice but to read through the many magazines and newspapers I have collected over the last few weeks and comb the pages to see if anyone of interest stands out.”
Aunt Sydney offered her own advice. “Being only a short distance outside of Washington, D.C., you shouldn’t have any difficulty finding a powerful man.”
Alisande smiled as she shook her head. “I don’t know about a politician, too many can be manipulated and bought. I want a man rich in character and strong in integrity.”
“Then stay out of D.C., darling,” her aunt said with a laugh.
“With a little research and a spark of determination, I’m sure I can find the man of my dreams.”
Aunt Sydney stood and adjusted the jacket of her almond-colored silk suit. “Be careful, my dear. Sparks ignite into uncontrollable fires, and then... he may prove more than you can handle.”
Alisande completely understood her aunt’s misgivings, and promised herself that she would proceed with caution and care. After all, she had to remember that she would be dealing with a mortal male on the most intimate level. And intimacy had a way of ruling one’s most basic emotions while easily disregarding intelligent thought. But then, there was no room for intelligence when lust and passion ruled.
“I’m off to the Wyrrd Foundation, dear. Last minute details for the fundraiser we’re hosting next week need my attention.” Her aunt leaned over and brushed her cheek across Ali’s. “No, I don’t require help, and besides, you will be too busy looking for a lover to lend me a hand.”
Alisande shook her head and playfully scolded her favorite aunt. “I thought the seer who taught you warned against intruding on people’s thoughts without permission.”
“On occasion and when necessary,” her aunt corrected and waved as she hurried out the solarium door with a quick good-bye from Alisande.
Alisande admired her aunt. She was a renaissance woman of extraordinary intelligence, having earned numerous degrees in various areas of interest as well as studying subjects thought to be objectionable during her six hundred years.
She often sought her aunt’s counsel and was glad she had come to stay with her while her mother and father were off on a lengthy adventure.
She, herself, was about to begin a grand adventure. She had had her share of lovers through the years never anyone special. She had always held a part of herself back, never surrendering completely to any man, witch or mortal. She wanted someone special, a magical lover, possessed of strength not often found; she intended to find him and finally surrender.
Alisande hurried out of the solarium, down the hall, through the foyer and out through the front screened door. She took a deep breath of fresh air, catching the many rich scents of a warm summer’s day, honeysuckle and m
int in particular, and with a sigh of satisfaction she glanced over the land she loved so much.
The two-hundred-acre estate had been purchased by the Wyrrd family several years before Alisande’s birth. The rolling hills and pastures had changed little over the years. The twenty –room manor-type house had been modernized several times, the stables updated, a swimming pool and tennis courts added, and the gardens extended. Here was where family and friends came for shelter and comfort. Aunt Sydney mended many a broken heart here, Uncle Thaddeus hid from two wives, Aunt Vivien gave birth to Josh and Nicole, mother and father were married and she herself born here, and countless more milestones were celebrated right here on the Wyrrd estate. And right here was where Alisande intended to get married and give birth.
First, however, she needed a lover. She walked to the far end of the porch where it jutted out in an octagon shape and smiled at the stack of magazines and newspapers waiting for her on the pine table. Adele, not only their housekeeper for forty years but a close confidant of the Wyrrd family, had left a pitcher of mint iced tea and a plate of tea biscuits for Alisande to enjoy
Eager to begin, she pulled one of the pine rockers up to the table and plopped down in it, tucking her feet beneath her. She reached for a magazine and a biscuit and began to read.
Alisande read the article five times. Could she be this lucky? This was only the third magazine she had picked up an hour ago and here he was, the perfect man, staring at her right in the face.
Sebastian Wainwright, CEO of Wainwright Security. His multi-million dollar business was based in D.C., though his client list was global. His security firm supplied protection to top government officials and foreign diplomats. His security personnel were the best in the field; only the most experienced and exceptionally talented people worked for Wainwright Security.
One whole floor of the Wainwright building was dedicated to research and development of security devices. What type of security devices; the article failed to mention. The article did, however, stress Sebastian Wainwright’s impeccable reputation. It seemed that the man possessed the uncanny ability not only to successfully track an opponent, but to uncover every detail of that person’s life. His talent for finding the unfindable was considered remarkable.
As one person interviewed stated, “Wainwright could find the proverbial needle in a haystack.”
Sebastian Wainwright was also known to be practical in nature, serious-minded, and a non-nonsense businessman who always got the job done successfully, and he was the most eligible and sought after bachelor in D.C.
Alisande smiled as she traced her long pink fingernail over the photo of Wainwright. Dark hair cut short and tight surrounded a tanned complexion. Dark eyes, brownish black like the color of the rich, potent soil during planting season addressed the camera with a look of supreme confidence. A black tuxedo, obviously tailor made accented his well-endowed athletic body and his height of at least three inches over six feet added to his appeal.
Alisande brought the picture of him to eye level and stared at his handsome face. She ran a finger over his strong jaw line, high cheekbones, and the narrow bridge of his nose. His eyes fascinated her, but it was his lips that tempted her the most. They were thin, barely noticeable, yet so utterly beguiling. How would they feel against her full ones? Strangely enough she felt they possessed the potency of his power. Latent and hidden, yet once unleashed...
She smiled and continued running her finger slowly over his picture. “Poor dear, you have no idea what you’re in for.”
Chapter Two
Alisande emerged from the cool interior of the silver Rolls-Royce out into the full summer heat of D.C. Thought most of the capital’s elite were vacationing worldwide, there were enough junior staff members around to stop and admire the beauty who emerged with eye-catching grace and confidence from the expensive vehicle.
Alisande had taken extra care with her appearance, and now, standing in front of the Wainwright building being eyed with obvious appreciation and interest, she was glad she had chosen simple elegance.
She wore a white silk suit that conformed to her shapely body, the skirt riding high enough to enhance her long, slim legs. The white high-heel slings she wore added two inches to her five feet six inches and her honey-blond hair cascaded in waves down her back. Of course, she sprinkled a handful of gold dust to add sparkle to the silky strands and to catch the eye.
She marched right through the front door of Wainwright Security and as she approached the first-floor security desk she smiled, dipped her hand in her pocket, brought it out and with a gentle rush of breath across her palm, she sent the silver dust skimming through the air.
The tiny particles took instant flight and descended over the security guards. With stupefied grins the men nodded politely as she continued past them to the elevators. A short, uninterrupted ride brought her to the top floor and the private offices of Sebastian Wainwright,
More security guards smiled foolishly as silver dust sprinkled down around them. In no time and without the slightest difficulty, Alisande reached the office of Sebastian Wainwright’s private secretary. She decided against dusting the woman and marched straight for the large double mahogany doors to Wainwright’s office.
The tall, reed-thin woman frantically began shouting at her to stop and pressing buzzers on her desk. Alisande cast a sympathetic smile before entering, unannounced, the hallowed office of Sebastian Wainwright.
“Ms. Smithers, I told you that—” Sebastian momentarily turned speechless when his dark eyes caught sight of the beautiful woman that stood just inside his office doors. She was simply stunning. Actually, she was much more than stunning, but adequate words failed him. He wasn’t only speechless, he felt breathless at the sight of her.
She possessed the most extraordinary features he had ever seen, somewhere between exotic and common, which when combined produced exquisite. And her body was... damn he didn’t want to think about it. Curves, dips, angles, fullness waited to be explored and charted and definitely claimed. His body was already responding to her and at an alarming rate. If he didn’t rein in his raging schoolboy hormones, he might just find himself reacting foolishly.
It took him several minutes to compose himself and when he did he threw down the report he had been holding and rushed around from behind his desk to approach her.
He was angry. This mysterious, gorgeous woman had walked right into his office without invitation and like an idiot he had simply stood there staring at her. Not only had she breached his building security, she had breached his personal mental security, and that greatly disturbed him.
“Who are you and how did you get past my security guards and into my office?”
Ali feasted her eyes on him for a few seconds before she answered. Her slow and audacious appraisal was meant to unnerve, and it did, but only for a moment. Within seconds he moved, walking right up to her, crossing his arms over his impressive chest and raising an impertinent brow.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
His deep voice sent a ripple of pleasure straight through Ali right down to the tips of her toes. “Alisande Wyrrd,” she said and held out her hand.
He made no move to take it, which brought a smile to Ali’s face and a frown to his already stern composure.
“I wish to speak with you about an extremely important matter,” she said softly, though with firmness that was meant to remind that she would be heard regardless.
“I don’t recall an appointment with a prospective client at this time.” Though the Wyrrd name was known to him and almost everyone in Washington, he wondered if she was part of The Wyrrds. They were an influential and wealthy family whose roots dated back to the Founding Fathers. She certainly possessed the arrogance of the affluent.
“I don’t have an appointment,” she said and stepped around him walking toward his desk. “Actually, I just realized this morning that I needed you.”
Sebastian approached her slowly. “You need me?”
She turned a blatantly seductive smile on him that would melt the most celibate of men and answered in a mere whisper. “Yes, I need you.”
How could a voice feel erotic? Sound, yes... but feel? He felt as if she temptingly stroked his bare flesh with each short, emphasized word and damned if he didn’t hunger for more.
That was it. He took control of his confused emotions, reined in his surging hormones, and marched to the office doors flinging one open with such force that it would have smashed into the wall if he hadn’t held it so tightly. “Ms. Smithers, where the hell is security?”
The flustered woman held a phone to each ear. “I’m trying to contact them, but there seems to be a problem.”
“Get them here now!” he bellowed and slammed the door. His strides were purposeful and his muscles tense beneath his gray suit as he bore down on her like a mighty warrior charging into battle. “What do you want from me?”
Ali stood as she was and he purposely came to a stop within only inches of her, though his intimidation tactics were lost on her.
Confidently and with a clear voice she said, “I want you to be my lover.”
He shook his head twice, positive he had misunderstood her.
“Let me explain,” she said reaching out to casually stroke his black and gray silk tie. Her fingers slipped beneath the cool material to faintly touch his white cotton shirt.
He made no move to stop her intimate gesture; he favored the subtle pressure of her slim fingers against his chest. “While you’re explaining don’t forget to mention how you slipped past my security guards.”
“That was the easy part,” she said. “You see, I’m a witch and a sprinkle of magic dust here and there goes a long way.”
He shook his head. “Did you say witch?”
“Yes, I’m a witch and that is part of the reason why I need you.”
Sebastian took a step away from her. “You’re a bona fide card-carrying, broomstick type witch?”
“Darling, we never used broomsticks. Why should we when with the snap of my fingers I could pop right out of here.”
Sebastian nodded. “Okay then, demonstrate your powers. Pop right out of here.”