Page 48 of Blind Prophet

“Did you take more medicine?” She frowns. “How’s your migraine?”

“It’s fine.”

Slightly out of it, I push up and peel the wet material away from my skin, lifting the shirt over my head.

Caroline steps back. I follow her gaze to my chest.

It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before. Is that stare disapproving? Or is she…

A familiar energy surges. If she’s interested… Those blue eyes flicker upwards.

“Did you sleep okay?”

She nods. Her tongue licks her bottom lip.

My heart skitters like a teenage boy’s.

Only her.

I reach for her, and my thumb brushes her cheek. She tilts her head into my palm, and on an inhale, I inch closer.

Her gaze locks on mine. The distance between us shrinks. I palm her hip, cloaked in silk. My fingers glide lower as my head tilts. Her light, faint floral scent has me inhaling deeper, and my skin tingles as if awakening from a long, dormant sleep.

My lips are inches from hers.

She swallows and backs away. My hands drop. She scratches her neck.

“Why don’t you go get changed, and I’ll pour us some coffee?”

I rub the back of my neck, forcing myself to snap out of it and wake up. Outside, the sun filters through the tops of the trees.

“What time is it?”

“Close to eight. Don’t you need to leave soon for work?”

It’s Friday. I cleared my calendar, but yes, it’s a work day.

“Sleeping out here, I guess we both missed our alarms.” My gaze falls to her darkened phone on the coffee table.

“If you need a charger?—”

“I’ve got one,” she says.

I nod, backing away, balled-up shirt in one hand. The ceramic mug sits on the armrest. I could grab it, but the staff will get it.

“Let’s meet in the kitchen,” she says brightly. The high pitch rings of nervousness. “I’ll be ready when you are.”

Right. My nails dig into my scalp, scratching furiously.

What am I doing? Caroline is preparing to leave me; only this time, I may never see her again.

“What time do you have to be in Denver?”

“Ah, this afternoon. I’ve got a meeting, and then my flight’s at five.”

“I’ll clear my morning.” If I were more awake, I’d laugh at the shock on her face. There was a time when I never canceled meetings. “Let’s have breakfast. I’ll get the?—”

“We should probably get moving.” Her chin juts up.

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