“I cannot tell if she’s speaking the truth or not. I’ve asked her a few questions, and I didn’t feel anything when she responded.”
I don’t even realize I’ve lowered my gaze until Cohen’s callused fingers guide my chin up so he can scan my face. “You asked her a question and felt nothing at all?”
“Exactly.”
“How is that possible?”
I give him a look. “I don’t know.”
“Was she being vague?” His fingers leave my chin. “For this to work, doesn’t she have to give a specific answer?”
“I think so.”
“You think?”
“This thing, it’s a little different with everyone.” Mostly you, is what I should say. Everyone else registers about the same. “I noticed it when she was talking about King Aodren. I figured then it was probably me, until I asked her about the well water. When she spoke, I didn’t feel anything. It’s her. She’s different somehow.”
“That’s strange” is all he says, and a line forms on his brow as he stares off. He runs his right hand over his face. Up and down, up and down, stuck on the track of his scar. I’m caught by the mesmerizing motion until lightning flashes, and one, two, three seconds later the thunder answers, a great grizzly bear roaring into the night.
“So, do you still think we can trust her?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“You’re so certain. You’re always so confident.” I wish I had the same conviction. I suppose if Enat wanted to hurt us, she would’ve. I’ve no doubt she’s capable. That’s a testament to her character.
“You trust her enough to meet with Millner?” I ask.
“I do,” he says thoughtfully.
Lightning cracks across the sky again, and in the burst of colorless light I notice how close we’re sitting—?the width of the bucket separates us. I lower my gaze from his, but it catches on his lips. Then noticing the slow movement his throat makes as he swallows, I eventually drop my focus to my lap and the space between us.
“Then I suppose I do too,” I whisper, and stand up.
Cohen lowers the bucket of water to the ground before rising and reaching for my arm. “Britta.” His voice is deep. Throaty.
His eyes have darkened to the color of the earth after a rainstorm. “Yes?”
“Don’t go yet.”
“I wasn’t, I—”
“I thought about you,” he says, frowning, then sighing. I would give anything to know what he’s thinking right now.
“You did?”
“When we were apart, you were always there in my mind.”
Every nerve in my body zings with awareness of his truth as well as his proximity, muddling the remaining intact portion of my thoughts. I should remind him he left over fifteen months ago and never contacted me. I should step back. But . . .
I want very much to pursue this moment.
He touches my cheek. Heat dances beneath my skin as his fingers slip around my head. His hold is gentle and careful and confusing.
His thumb runs lightly across my lower lip. “Britt, tell me this is all right.”
His plea is nearly drowned by the rush of pulse that beats a deafening rhythm in my ears. The rain increases, pelting our skin, and the wind sings around us. Instead of ducking away, I rise up on my toes, scared, and, at the same time, so full of want.
I hear him whisper my name once more before his mouth is on mine. Oh stars. My lips are frozen beneath his as shock and logic wage war—?this is everything I shouldn’t want. Still, I don’t care. He kisses me gently at first, and then not so much when my lips respond. His hands clutch me to him; the firm spread of his body presses against mine. I can taste the mint leaf on his lips. His tongue. Flames shoot through my limbs and burn my heart, erasing every single thought in my head except for the sweet awareness of Cohen. Of our needy kiss.
My fingers are possessed, tracing up his neck to twist in his hair. A moan escapes his throat. Oh my. It’s the most alluring sound I’ve ever heard.
All too soon his mouth leaves mine and I gasp in objection.
He lets out a husky breath, and a second later my embarrassing protest dies when his lips wind a trail down my throat and back up, moving along my jaw until his breath fans the hollow behind my ear.
“Britta? Cohen?”
Cohen jerks back, eyeing the blue-black shadows around Enat’s home and then me as if waking from a dream. Disoriented by the sudden disconnection of our kiss, I trip toward Cohen, but he rights me with both hands on my shoulders.
Enat calls our names once more.
“We better go,” he says, squeezing my arms. He turns and moves toward Enat’s voice, but just before he’s out of sight, he looks back and gives me a tipped smile.
I touch my swollen lips as the rain falls. And stand there, drowning in disbelief.
What. Was. That?
Chapter
23