Page 56 of Potions and Proposals
“I wasn’t pulled away during our dinner,” she argued, pulling herself together and moving to the desk to put some space between them.
He rubbed the back of his neck. She wondered if he felt the same as she did. Maybe it was just another side-effect of the spell.
“I was there,” he admitted. She stared at him. “Outside. It might’ve taken me some time to get the courage to face your family after everything that went down with the coven, but when Rosie told me you’d invited him, I couldn’t leave.”
They fell silent. The thought of him nervously pacing outside her house made her smile.
“It’s far more likely that it’s the use of our elements. Maybe mine is trying to get back to me,” she reasoned.
“If that’s true, then why weren’t you pulled here when I showered last night? Or when I watered the gardens this morning?” he asked.
“I’m only guessing, but maybe it was the volume of water used. Next time, don’t use my water to fill the bath unless you want me to join you.” It was silly, but she had to break the tension before it swallowed them both.
“What was that last part?” He stared at her.
“I said don’t use my water to fill your bathtub.”
He exhaled as though exasperated, but she cocked her head, seeing a small smile trying to fight through. She wondered what he was thinking. Maybe joking about bathing together wasn’t the best idea.
“From now on, let’s be careful about how much we use.” She crossed her arms over her chest. If he was right, that meant she wouldn’t be called here every time he bathed – which was a relief, no matter how good he looked in a towel.
“Agreed.” He nodded.
“We’re getting better at this,” she pointed out, picking up a mini gargoyle paperweight from his stack of paperwork. It was the same design as those beneath the library. It made sense, since it was one of his ancestors who’d crafted the stoneprotectors. In miniature form, the terrifying creature was almost cute.
“At what?”
“Civil conversations.” Lucy put down the paperweight, surprised by the amount of paper. For the first time, she noticed he didn’t have a laptop. “You wouldn’t have to use so much paper with a computer.”
“Says the woman who works in a library,” he chuckled.
“Touché.” She should probably be going, yet somehow she didn’t feel the desire to leave.
“To be honest, I don’t like having electricity in my quarters; the waves throw off my element. The paper I can burn up with my fire,” he told her.
Lucy nodded. Now that she’d experienced his fire first-hand, she realised how difficult it was to manage. “You put a lot of thought into arranging your life around your element. Water is mischievous and always wants to help, but I can’t say it affects me like your fire does,” she admitted, interested to hear more. Maybe if they understood each other better, they’d stop seeing each other as rivals.
“It’s volatile. Fire is the expression of anger, power, and even lust. If not harnessed correctly, then it’s not only dangerous to its bearer, but to those around them,” he said, fear settled in his gaze. Fear that his element would hurt her, or the town they both cherished?
“But even if it can be destructive, it brings new life, like my water. We can’t survive without it,” she said, getting the impression he didn’t think about the positives of his element much.
He took a step closer, and a gentle sizzle settled beneath her skin. She didn’t know what he was doing, but she wasn’t afraid. Benedict took her hand and held it over the candles on his desk. Wordlessly, she let him guide her. The candles lit with ease.Even that small expression of fire eased the boil in her blood, but she still struggled to contain it to a single small flame.
“Better?” he asked at her shoulder.Lucy swallowed as his fingers slipped between hers, sending shivers up her arm. At that moment, she realised she trusted him. She trusted Benedict Matherson.
He stared at her, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips as though he was seeing her for the first time.
A small crash broke his hold on her. A purple lizard had knocked a candle holder off the side table.
“Greko! How much you’ve grown!” Lucy exclaimed, picking up the creature and placing him on her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you still had him.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Everyone needs a creature of destruction in their home,” Benedict quipped, picking up the candle holder.
“Because I gave him to you. I wondered if you might’ve given him away.” Lucy stroked his purple scales. When she’d found the gecko, he’d had an awful accident. She’d managed to cure him, but with the unintended side-effect of turning him a very pretty, yet alarming shade of lilac.
“I’m not entirely heartless,” he said, a trace of sadness in his voice.
“I should go. Can’t keep the library waiting all day.” She didn’t want to dwell on their past.
