Deja Voodoo (A Cajun Magic Novel) (Entangled Suspense) by Elle James Page B

stared out at her from the shadows of Bayou Miste. Suddenly, she was alone on a tuft of land in the deepest, darkest part of the bayou, surrounded by cypress trees whose branches were draped in long swaths of Spanish moss, sweeping low to the ground like arms reaching out to her.
    A dark silhouette disengaged from the shadows, stalking her, his eyes glowing red in the moonless night.
    She tried to scream but no sound came out. As the fiend steadily advanced on her little island amidst the stagnant water, she saw the flash of a light-colored animal headed her way. It was Sport. Not the man he’d become, but the dog she knew and loved.
    Right when the man reached his hands out to clutch her throat, Sport leaped into the air and—
    “Earth to Alex.”
    She shook her head and looked up, taking a moment for her eyes and mind to focus on her twenty-seven-year-old sister, Harry. “What’s up?”
    “You have ten minutes until your next aerobics class. Do you want me to take this one? You look beat.”
    Alex dropped onto a metal folding chair and sighed. “Would you? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just don’t have it in me today.”
    “Could it be you were up all night dreaming?”
    “Yes. As a matter of fact I was.”
    “About a certain hunky man?” Harry grinned.
    Boy, did Harry have it wrong. But then if she explained her dream she’d probably end up spilling her guts about Sport, the Voodoo hex, and her late-night trip into the bayou. What was easier—confessing to the insanity, or letting her sister believe she’d stayed up all night mooning over a very sexy man and a kiss she wouldn’t soon forget? Lord .
    “I saw you kissing him in the garden. So did Mom and everyone else. Did she finally strike gold and find you a keeper?”
    Alex refused to meet Harry’s knowing gaze. “He’s all right.”
    “All right ? You were playing tonsil tag long enough that he had to be more than all right.”
    “Please, Harry. Ed’s in Bayou Miste on vacation. When he leaves, he’s out of my life. Why get attached?” Alex heaved herself out of the chair and walked over to the punching bag, giving it a light cuff with her fist.
    “Because he’s nice, good-looking, and apparently a good kisser.” Harry grabbed the bag and held it steady.
    Alex bounced up on her toes and swung at the bag like a boxer. “So?”
    “So? So why don’t you see where it goes? He’ll be here at least a week. That’s plenty of time to find whether or not he’s a possibility.”
    “Harry, he lives in New Orleans. That’s two hours from Bayou Miste. He has a job, I have a business. Do the math. It wouldn’t work, even if I wanted it to. Long-distance relationships don’t last.”
    “You don’t have to stay in Bayou Miste, you know.”
    “It’s my home.”
    “So, come home to visit every once in a while. What would it hurt for you to get out in the big wide world and see more than the stinkin’ bayou?”
    “Says the one who lives in Morgan City. I never wanted to leave, you did. Speaking of which, why haven’t you?”
    Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I was waiting for you to go first.”
    “You’ll be waiting a long time.”
    “Hey, wait a minute. This discussion isn’t about me. It’s about you and the very distinct possibility of you finding someone to love.”
    “In Ed?” She sighed. “The best I can hope for is a quick fling. I’m not moving, and we’re back to ‘where does he live?’” She bounced again on her toes and threw a side kick at the punching bag. “It won’t work.”
    “But Mom thinks you—”
    She kicked the bag again, hard enough that Harry staggered back. “Why is it Mom worries about me, when you’re just two years younger and don’t have a boyfriend?”
    “Probably because you’re closing in on thirty and your biological clock is ticking.” Harry grinned and stepped away from the punching bag as Alex slammed it again with another kick. “How about I take that class for