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“I don’t know, but I’m glad for it.”
“Eric.” I leaned toward him.
He did the same, bringing us within inches of each other.
I stared at his lips, aching to touch them with my own. The pull toward him deepened with every breath I took. “Do you feel the strange attraction between us?”
He nodded.
“What should we do about it?” My vote was that we should kiss on it, but I wasn’t well versed in these kinds of situations.
He sat back in his chair. “We must be careful.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Right.” Except that felt wrong.Chapter NineEric
On Sunday morning Eric found himself once again in Riverhaven, walking over the stone bridge that would lead him straight to Sorrel. His pace was light and quick. He blamed it on his assignment, but he knew that wasn’t the real reason. He craved any time he could get with the beauty who was making him doubt his skills as an investigative reporter. She about had him convinced there wasn’t a story to tell, other than how maddeningly attractive and good she was. He wanted to kick himself for not checking the coroner’s credentials first. When he had late last night, he’d found a few blemishes on the doctor’s record. Enough to make Eric question the validity of David Black’s autopsy report. And he believed Sorrel when she said she didn’t know why people told her their secrets, though he knew exactly why. It was her smile and the way her eyes penetrated his that invited him to speak. And her touch could soothe even the toughest soul—his soul.
Not to say he didn’t still have questions; the book always had a reason for what it did. And he knew it didn’t send him to Sorrel to give him a treat. Though he wouldn’t mind tasting her. No, the book was an evil bastard that loved to taunt him, to remind him he was never worthy enough for the miserable destiny it was planning for him. But one thing it wasn’t, and that was a liar. The book said there was a story to be told. He still didn’t know what the book meant when it said how it ended would be up to him. If it were up to him, he would have taken Sorrel in his arms last night when she’d leaned in, begging him to kiss her. He wanted to do that and more. He hated that he had to rebuff her. The embarrassment was apparent in her cheeks. But for her own protection, he had to. Sorrel had no idea how alluring her innocence was. And he feared the strong attraction between the two of them would lead to a beautiful but deadly encounter if he wasn’t careful. The thought of Sorrel’s blood on his hands made him shiver in the warm sunlight.
If only she would let him have her in her dreams, but there she had been coy. Was it because of the man she always walked with in the vineyard? Last night when she had said they’d owned a vineyard when she was a little girl, it had given him hope that the man was her father; however, he couldn’t be sure. There had to be a reason she never let him see who she was with. He was determined to discover why she thought they couldn’t be together in her dreams.
Eric paused when he reached the other side of the river. He looked out over the gently flowing water. It was the first time in a long time he appreciated the beauty of water instead of the need to control it. Normally his fingers would be itching to, at the very least, direct its current. But this morning he’d let the peaceful flow settle his soul, as if that was what his power over water was meant to give him all along. Or maybe the peace had more to do with the woman who was headed in his direction. Sorrel and her friend Josie were running along the river’s path. The sun graced Sorrel’s lithe body dressed only in running shorts and a sports bra. Her sweat-beaded, creamy skin shone, making him want to bask in the glory of her.
When Sorrel saw him, she stopped in her tracks, taking deep breaths in and out. Her friend questioned why she’d stopped, until she followed the direction of Sorrel’s gaze. Josie gave Eric a sneer that would have frightened most men. But Eric wasn’t just any man, and he only had eyes for the gorgeous creature who was having a hard time keeping her smile to herself.
Josie jabbed Sorrel with her elbow. “Stop acting like you like him.”
Sorrel pressed her lips together and looked down at her running shoes, doing her best to act unaffected. But Eric knew better, because he was just as affected by her. Even more so this morning with the little clothing she wore to cover up her lean, toned body that had curves in all the right places. She was a vision. It was all he could do not to run to her, pull her sweaty body up against his, and undo her messy bun. How his fingers longed to run through her hair. His mouth ached to taste the salt on her lips from the perspiration dripping off her.
