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Eric squeezed my hand. “Sorrel, please have dinner with me.”
I closed my eyes. “Um . . . I have to work late. We have two weddings coming up this weekend.” I tried my best to resist him.
He pulled my hand up and kissed it like he was Prince Charming or something.
My eyes flew open. My body was tingling in ways I didn’t know were possible but definitely wanted to explore.
“I don’t mind eating late.” His breath played against my skin.
“Okay,” I easily gave in. “Pick me up at eight.” I am an awful, selfish person.
~*~
Eric
I’m the worst scoundrel imaginable, Eric thought to himself before he knocked on Sorrel’s door. He knew he was toying with Sorrel’s emotions, though better him than his father, he reasoned to ease his guilt. It’s not that he didn’t want to take Sorrel out, it was that he knew after he seduced her into telling him all her secrets, he would have to cut all ties to her. This time for good. He would hurt her. He had hurt her. Her eyes had said it all when she’d greeted him this afternoon in the bakery.
Eric knocked with one hand while holding a picnic basket in the other. He was pulling out all the stops. I’m a pig.
“The door is open,” Sorrel called. “Come in. I’m still getting ready.”
Eric groaned. A beautiful woman like her shouldn’t be leaving her door unlocked. Although to him it was proof she wasn’t from the Tellus family. No way would she be so careless with the book. Eric opened the door to find Sorrel peeking out her bedroom door, her hair half-done.
“I’m sorry I’m running late, we had a cupcake crisis. I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Make yourself at home.” She popped back into her room before he could respond. She is absolutely adorable. He set the picnic basket on her overstuffed chair and looked around. Admittedly, he was looking for a good hiding spot for a book or any other sign she possessed any supernatural abilities. This way he could tell his father how ludicrous it was to think that Sorrel was a Tellus. And if he was being honest, he could put to rest the shred of doubt that had creeped in about Sorrel. The thought of her being like him didn’t sit well with him. Not only did he not want the stories to be true, but if they were, it would mean he was destined to destroy her. The thought made him ill.
Sorrel’s cat, Tara, began to brush up against him, begging to be held. He bent down and picked up the white fur ball. “Hello, little one.” He snuggled the cat against his chest and scratched Tara’s head while covertly poking around and listening for signs of Sorrel coming out. Currently she was belting out “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.” It made Eric smile and wish he could make her feel like a natural woman. That he could peek in her bedroom. At her. And not just to see if she was hiding a book.
But while she was preoccupied, Eric took the opportunity to walk around her place and see if he could feel any “magical” stirrings. Though he didn’t think of what his kind did as magical. It was downright frightening. When he felt nothing, he resorted to looking under the couch cushions only to find a tube of pink lipstick. Why didn’t that surprise him? He went to the kitchen next and opened every cupboard, only to discover she was a bit of a neat freak in how organized she was. The only thing disorganized in her kitchen were all the notes and cards she had stuck to her refrigerator. Most of them went something like, Thank you for thinking of me. Your muffins must have magic in them. I felt so good after I ate them, I was able to get out of bed for the first time in a week.
Magic, there was that word again. It was preposterous. It was a placebo effect. He’d felt wonderful after eating Sorrel’s cooking, too, but it was because he was with her. And if she was part of the Tellus family, she wouldn’t be so careless as to use her powers out in the open. Wasn’t it why this curse had started in the first place, because the Tellus family and his didn’t want to share their gifts with mankind? Hadn’t his family pounded into him how cunning and wicked the Tellus family was? Words that could never be used to describe Sorrel. She was a gifted herbalist who believed in natural remedies, is all. She told him herself how she felt like preventive care was overlooked in this country and how she’d studied Eastern medicine.
“Eric,” Sorrel called, making him flinch. He’d been so absorbed reading the cards on her refrigerator that he’d gotten careless and had forgotten to listen for her.
