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Authors: Maureen L. Bonatch
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need it.”
He almost smiled, then seemed to realize his lips were about to betray him, and stopped. “Can I take you somewhere? Maybe we could talk.”
I stopped and faced him. “I don’t...no.”
His jaw tensed and he scowled, but his expression quickly cleared.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to, but I just moved here and need to get settled.” I turned away. “Besides, I’m looking for someone.”
I wasn’t sure why I told him, practically a stranger. Not practically, he was a stranger. Just because I’ve had dreams about him didn’t mean I knew anything about him.
“I can help you.” Griffith’s jawline tensed and he tightened his grip on my arm, as if claiming possession.
“Why?” I took a step back as anger radiated off him. “I don’t know you and…” I thought about the book and the scene at his house with Drake. “I’m not sure I want to.”
Griffith’s face smoothed, and the annoyed expression evaporated as if it had never been there.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little impatient.” He lifted my chin so I looked into his eyes sparkling like the gray mist shimmering around his head. “I can’t keep you out of my mind. I worry about that.”
I tensed when he stroked my head with his other hand. Petting me like an animal. I began to pull away but stopped, the sensation of well-being and relaxation drew me in.
Perhaps I was being difficult. Maybe it was a good idea to go out with Griffith.
“It’s a good idea,” Griffith said, his voice as soothing as his touch.
My eyelids were heavy, as if I’d awakened from a long, restful sleep.
Griffith’s unusual, intriguing gray eyes caught my gaze, and sinking into their depths, I forgot about the cold and why I didn’t want to go out with him, yet. It was inevitable. What was I waiting for? The shimmering lights around him were beautiful.
Griffith continued to smooth my hair, murmuring.
I rested my cheek against his chest. The cool leather of his jacket felt like a balm. Heat radiated from him, enveloping me. I could get used to this.
“Well, if it isn’t the two lovebirds.”
Startled, I jumped back into the man behind me who was twirling a tendril of my hair.
“Hello, Ginger.”
I tried to turn, but his grip on my hair restrained me. When had it gotten so dark?
“What?” I wrapped my arms around my waist. “I’m sorry.” I took a step back. “I didn’t see you there.”
The rail-like build of the man surprised me, because he hadn’t even budged with my impact. The man, creature, or whatever he was, from Griffith’s house, Drake loomed behind me.
“Of course not, but you will. I would’ve loved to have met you sooner, but Griffith called dibs.” He lifted my hair to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. “Delicious.”
I yanked my hair so it dropped from his grip, running my hand over the strands, fearful the oily residue oozing off him had gotten on me. “My name’s not Ginger.”
“It’s not. But that’s what you are. Why cover it up with a hideous dye job.” He held out his arms in a welcoming embrace. “You haven’t properly introduced us, brother.”
I glanced between Griffith and Drake. The gray mist darkened around Griffith but couldn’t compete with the blackness surrounding Drake like a cloud.
“Don’t call me that.” Griffith’s fists clenched and unclenched, as he glared at Drake.
I needed to think and couldn’t seem to do that when I was around Griffith. As I backed away, neither man paid me any attention. Their focus locked upon each other, as they circled like dogs sizing each other up. I wanted answers from Griffith about the dreams, the book, and what in the hell kind of power he had over me, but they’d have to wait because there was one thing I wanted more than any of that...to get the hell out of there.
Chapter Six
His attention never left me the whole time I was in the store. He didn’t approach, but watched every move I made. In an effort to avoid Griffith
He almost smiled, then seemed to realize his lips were about to betray him, and stopped. “Can I take you somewhere? Maybe we could talk.”
I stopped and faced him. “I don’t...no.”
His jaw tensed and he scowled, but his expression quickly cleared.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to, but I just moved here and need to get settled.” I turned away. “Besides, I’m looking for someone.”
I wasn’t sure why I told him, practically a stranger. Not practically, he was a stranger. Just because I’ve had dreams about him didn’t mean I knew anything about him.
“I can help you.” Griffith’s jawline tensed and he tightened his grip on my arm, as if claiming possession.
“Why?” I took a step back as anger radiated off him. “I don’t know you and…” I thought about the book and the scene at his house with Drake. “I’m not sure I want to.”
Griffith’s face smoothed, and the annoyed expression evaporated as if it had never been there.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little impatient.” He lifted my chin so I looked into his eyes sparkling like the gray mist shimmering around his head. “I can’t keep you out of my mind. I worry about that.”
I tensed when he stroked my head with his other hand. Petting me like an animal. I began to pull away but stopped, the sensation of well-being and relaxation drew me in.
Perhaps I was being difficult. Maybe it was a good idea to go out with Griffith.
“It’s a good idea,” Griffith said, his voice as soothing as his touch.
My eyelids were heavy, as if I’d awakened from a long, restful sleep.
Griffith’s unusual, intriguing gray eyes caught my gaze, and sinking into their depths, I forgot about the cold and why I didn’t want to go out with him, yet. It was inevitable. What was I waiting for? The shimmering lights around him were beautiful.
Griffith continued to smooth my hair, murmuring.
I rested my cheek against his chest. The cool leather of his jacket felt like a balm. Heat radiated from him, enveloping me. I could get used to this.
“Well, if it isn’t the two lovebirds.”
Startled, I jumped back into the man behind me who was twirling a tendril of my hair.
“Hello, Ginger.”
I tried to turn, but his grip on my hair restrained me. When had it gotten so dark?
“What?” I wrapped my arms around my waist. “I’m sorry.” I took a step back. “I didn’t see you there.”
The rail-like build of the man surprised me, because he hadn’t even budged with my impact. The man, creature, or whatever he was, from Griffith’s house, Drake loomed behind me.
“Of course not, but you will. I would’ve loved to have met you sooner, but Griffith called dibs.” He lifted my hair to his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. “Delicious.”
I yanked my hair so it dropped from his grip, running my hand over the strands, fearful the oily residue oozing off him had gotten on me. “My name’s not Ginger.”
“It’s not. But that’s what you are. Why cover it up with a hideous dye job.” He held out his arms in a welcoming embrace. “You haven’t properly introduced us, brother.”
I glanced between Griffith and Drake. The gray mist darkened around Griffith but couldn’t compete with the blackness surrounding Drake like a cloud.
“Don’t call me that.” Griffith’s fists clenched and unclenched, as he glared at Drake.
I needed to think and couldn’t seem to do that when I was around Griffith. As I backed away, neither man paid me any attention. Their focus locked upon each other, as they circled like dogs sizing each other up. I wanted answers from Griffith about the dreams, the book, and what in the hell kind of power he had over me, but they’d have to wait because there was one thing I wanted more than any of that...to get the hell out of there.
Chapter Six
His attention never left me the whole time I was in the store. He didn’t approach, but watched every move I made. In an effort to avoid Griffith
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