Page 97 of The Witch's Heart
She points to a small seating area and I scurry away, nervous under her harsh scrutiny. She gets up and disappears down a narrow hall.
I wait, fingers twisting with nerves.
What am I doing here?
This is crazy.
I push to my feet, ready to slip out, when the woman returns.
“The doctor will see you,” she says and gestures toward the hallway.
Face heating, I duck my head and mumble my thanks, making my way down the hall. Artwork lines the walls. Landscapes featuring wooded glens, all except for one which depicts a woman standing between two large brown wolves. Her expression is complex, fierce yet vulnerable, strong yet sensitive. A storm is brewing behind them, but they seem impervious to it.
The hairs on my arms and neck stand on end. I pause and suck in a sharp breath at how similar the woman’s features are to my own. But then the receptionist makes a sound of impatience and I hurry on again, forcing the strangeness of it from my mind.
At the end of the hall, the door on the left is slightly ajar. Pausing outside, I knock lightly.
“Come in.”
At the sound of his familiar voice, my pulse races.
I push the door open and step inside, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He rises from a chair positioned next to a navy blue loveseat.
“Hello, Celeste. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
“Hi. Yeah, I didn’t expect to be here either. I hope it’s okay? Me showing up like this?”
“Of course it is. I’m happy you came.”
His smile warms the coldness that has seeped into my bones. I exhale, shoulders relaxing now that I’m here. With him.
“Please. Make yourself comfortable?” He gestures to the love seat, and I push the door shut, crossing the room quickly.
We both sit, close enough that our knees brush. I look away, taking in the tidy desk in the far corner and the adjoining bathroom on my right. Beside me, a cup of tea sits on an end table. At the sight of it, the room tilts slightly. My sense of déjà vu is nearly overwhelming.
When I look back at the doctor, he’s watching me. The silence between us is charged with attraction. I try to tell myself it’s just me. My weird sense of self these last couple of days. But his cobalt eyes only intensify the longer he studies me.
I search for words that will break the ice.
“Sorry, I should have called,” I begin but he waves me off.
“It’s not a problem. I’m glad to see you again.” His eyes shine with a strange expression that looks almost like hunger.
My stomach tightens. Attraction and something else send me leaning forward. “This is going to sound silly. Or maybe crazy,” I say and he grins.
“Sounds like you came to the right place.”
I shake my head at his joke. “I was just curious . . . have we met before? You seem so familiar.”
“I doubt it.” His smile is a bit mischievous as he adds, “You are a face I am sure I would remember.”
“Dr. Livingstone, I—”
“Please, call me Logan.”
“I wouldn’t want to cross a line,” I say, shaking my head. “Professionally speaking, as my therapist, I think it’s best if—”
“I have no desire to be your therapist, Celeste.”
