Page 89 of Christmas Magic

“Yes, poor Galahad.” Marigold fell in beside Daisy. “What a way to treat your loyal squire. We’re all upset on his behalf.”

“If you cats were hungry, why didn’t you ask Molly to feed you?”

“She’s not the Keeper of the Cat Food,” Galahad said. “You are.”

Determined to keep her expression neutral, Molly walked out from behind the counter. Get him into the back room. If he stayed in the main part of the store to discuss the problem with the magic detecting equipment with her, he’d soon figure out there wasn’t a problem at all; that she’d lied to him. He might leave before she could knock him out.

As Lucian’s gaze skimmed over her—she’d worn an outfit she knew he liked—and appreciation touched his eyes, a thrill raced through her. At least despite the spell on him, he wasn’t immune to her.

“I’m sorry I upset you this morning, Galahad,” Lucian said. “I’ll do better.”

“Good—and not just with us felines.” Rose nudged her chin at Molly.

A muscle ticked in Lucian’s cheek. His lips parted, indicating he intended to speak, but then his mouth closed, as if he’d decided now wasn’t the time or place for what he wanted to say.

The dry cleaning bag rustled as he continued toward her. “Tell me about the problem you found, Molly.”

Be careful. Don’t act nervous.

“You said it’s important,” he added.

“It is.” Oh, God. The moment to act would soon be upon her.

Lucian also knew her—almost as well as she knew herself. He might figure out she was trying to trick him, especially if he got near enough to look into her eyes. Turning on her heel, she started for the rear room. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

The sound of his footsteps stopped.

Don’t make this difficult, Lucian.

“Sure, I’ll take a look. Before I do, tell me more about what’s going on.”

She halted but resisted the temptation to face him. Turning her head only partway, she said: “I’m not sure how to describe the issue.”

“Why not start with the basics?”

Crap.

“When did you first notice the problem? What were you doing?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Galahad yowled from the doorway of the back room. “There’s a lot of talking going on and zero feeding of cats.”

Lucian sighed. “Galahad.”

“Hey, I’m not just looking out for myself. There’s an injured baby among us.”

“Dat’s me,” Tim mewled. “I’m sooooo hungry.”

“Don’t know why you’re still holding onto that bag either,” the squire said. “You’ll need both hands to get the food out of the cupboard and serve it.”

“That’s right,” said Marigold. “You’re not going to need what’s in that dry cleaning bag anytime soon.”

“Really?” Lucian said. “Why’s that?”

Crap, crap, crap. Divert his suspicion. Now.

“What’s in the bag anyway?” Molly asked.

“Garments worn by Santa.”