Page 60 of The Witch's Heart
She shakes her head, looking away.
The food is delicious, and I force myself to forget about what I saw. Maria and the boys discuss whether the steak is better than the lamb.
I’ve eaten nearly half my plate when I suddenly wonder if it hasn’t all been spelled somehow. Or drugged.
Worried anew, I set my fork aside.
“What is it?” Dean asks.
“You don’t think . . .”
“What?” he presses.
I bite my lip. “It’s delicious. Almost too good.”
Dean shares a look with Declan and before they can answer, the music abruptly stops and the mood in the room shifts. All of the ghostly guests blink out of sight. We all turn to see what has sent the conversations around us to an abrupt halt.
Cutter stands in the doorway.
His suit is impeccably cut and expensive, though it fits right in with the fancy formalwear of the others. Despite that, I am not fooled. His ego and his need to be in control is as disgusting as ever. Rather than blend with us, he’s forced us to blend with him.
He does a quick sweep of the room and when his gaze settles on me, I can feel the weight of it.
The twins both growl under their breath and I know they can feel it too.
The music starts up again and Cutter looks away from me, heading for the bar.
I exhale.
“Here.” Dean presses a glass of champagne into my hand. “Might as well take advantage.”
“I’m okay,” I assure him.
He slants a look at me. “Your heart is racing, Celeste.” When I hesitate, he adds, “I won’t let anything happen to you. Enjoy yourself this one night.”
I relax and take a small sip.
Under the table, Declan wraps his hand around mine in silent reassurance.
My eyes catch on another figure in the doorway and the champagne bubbles I’ve just swallowed tingle inside me.
Like a magnet, Dr. Livingstone finds me immediately. His expression softens as he takes in my appearance and some strange emotion washes over me.
After a brief hesitation, he crosses to me, and I rise to meet him, everything else forgotten.
“Celeste, you look . . .”
He trails off, and I blink, disappointed that he didn’t finish. But I remind myself heismy doctor.
“Declan, Dean, it’s good to see you two,” he says.
“Doctor.”
I look over only to see that both guys are standing now, one on either side of me. Dr. Livingstone’s eyes sharpen at the way they edge in close, protective.
“Would you like to dance?” I ask, the words out before I realize I’ve said them.
He seems surprised too, but he nods and offers his hand. “I’d be honored.”
