Page 63 of Captivated
“Hi.” She leaned in to brush his lips with hers. “Did I get you out of the shower?”
“Just about.” Off balance, he slicked his fingers through his dripping hair. “Why aren’t you at the shop?”
“I’m taking the day off.” She sauntered in, willing herself to keep her voice natural and her muscles relaxed. “Did you sleep well?”
“You should know.” At the mild surprise in her eyes, his temper strained. “What did you do to me, Morgana?”
“Do to you? I did nothing to you.” She made the effort to smile again. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re in dire need of coffee. Why don’t I fix some?”
He grabbed her arm before she could turn toward the kitchen. “I’ll fix it myself.”
She measured the anger in his eyes and nodded slowly. “All right. Would you rather I came back later?”
“No. We’ll settle this now.” When he strode down the hallway, Morgana squeezed her eyes tight.
Settle it, she thought with a vivid premonition of disaster. Why did that phrase sound so much like “end it”? Bracing, she started to follow him into the kitchen, but found her courage fading. Instead, she turned into the living room and sat on the edge of a chair.
He needed his coffee, she told herself. And she needed a moment to regroup.
She hadn’t expected to find him so angry, so cold. The way he’d looked when he’d spoken to Leeanne the day before. Nor had she had any idea how much it would hurt to have him look at her with that ice-edged andsomehow aloof fury.
She rose to wander the room, one hand placed protectively over the life beginning in her womb. Shewouldprotect that life, she promised herself. At all costs.
When he came back, a steaming cup in his hand, she was standing by the window. Her eyes looked wistful. If he hadn’t known better, he would have said she looked hurt, even vulnerable.
But he did know better. Surely being a witch was the next thing to being invulnerable.
“Your flowers need water,” she said to him. “It isn’t enough just to plant them.” Again her hand lay quietly over her stomach. “They need care.”
He gulped down coffee and scalded his tongue. The pain helped block the sudden need to go to her and take her into his arms, to whisk away the sadness he heard in her voice. “I’m not much in the mood to talk about flowers.”
“No.” She turned, and the traces of vulnerability were gone. “I can see that. What are you in the mood to talk about, Nash?”
“I want the truth. All of it.”
She gave him a small, amused smile, turning her palms up questioningly. “Where would you like me to begin?”
“Don’t play games with me, Morgana. I’m tired of it.” He began to pace the room, his muscles taut enough to snap. His head came up. If she had been fainter of heart, the look in his eyes would have had her stumblingback in defense. “This whole business has been one long lark for you, hasn’t it? Right from the beginning, from the minute I walked into your shop, you decided I was a likely candidate.” God, it hurt, he realized. It hurt to think of everything he’d felt, everything he’d begun to wish for. “My attitude toward your... talents irritated you, so you just had to strut your stuff.”
Her heart quivered in her breast, but her voice was strong. “Why don’t you tell me what you mean? If you’re saying I showed you what I am, I can’t deny it. I can’t be ashamed of it.”
He slapped the mug down so that coffee sloshed over the sides and onto the table. The sense of betrayalwas so huge, it overwhelmed everything. Damn it, he loved her. She’d made him love her. Now that he was calling her on it, she just stood there, looking calm and lovely.
“I want to know what you did to me,” he said again. “Then I want you to undo it.”
“I told you, I didn’t—”
“I want you to look me in the eye.” On a wave of panic and fury, he grabbed her arms. “Look me in the eye, Morgana, and tell me you didn’t wave your wand or chant your charm and make me feel this way.”
“What way?”
“Damn you, I’m in love with you. I can’t get through an hour without wanting you. I can’t think about a year from now, ten years from now, without seeing you with me.”
Her heart melted. “Nash—”
He jerked back from the hand she lifted to his cheek. Stunned, Morgana let it fall back to her side. “How did you do it?” he demanded. “How did you get inside me like this, to make me start thinking of marriage and family? What was the point? To play around with the mortal until you got tired of him?”
“I’m as mortal as you,” she said steadily. “I eat and sleep, I bleed when I’m cut. I grow old. I feel.”
