Enchanted. Judith Leger

Enchanted - Judith Leger


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her attention back to him. The warmth of his hand through her sleeve’s thin gauze blazed a trail along her nerve endings straight to the base of her belly.

      “It’s the blackthorn tree. Have you ever seen one?” As he spoke, her thighs squeezed tight.

      “No,” she whispered.

      The waves of heat coming from his hand continued to send messages through her body. A rush of warmth pooled between her legs and the muscles at the junction of her thighs trembled. His gaze captured and refused to release hers. She attempted to shake her head but failed. Every part of her body flared with awareness, centered on him. The lyrical words he spoke poured over her, inflaming a need in her. Oh, she needed to breathe.

      Deep and hypnotic, Shay’s voice held her in its grip. “It’s black. The twisted trunk and limbs are covered with thorns, hence the name. It’s one of the few trees that bloom in the spring before the leaves. The fruit, if eaten too early, is bitter and vile.”

      Momentary silence, followed by his gaze cutting to Rhys, made a chill race up Caitlyn’s spine. The tension between the two men grew stronger. Shay looked back at her and continued.

      “Ah, such a wonderful tree to grow and to nurture. The blooms are a stark contrast to the tree. Waxy and white, they cover the branches. The tree can reach up to ten feet in height, though most people only allow them to grow to four or six feet.”

      He paused, and she shifted closer, trapped by the light in his strange and beautiful eyes.

      “There are legends about the tree. One tells how a demon is imprisoned within the tree, sentenced for eternity in its trunk.”

      Caitlyn tried to swallow, to breathe. She grew lightheaded waiting for him to finish the story, but instead, he dropped his hand and grinned. “By the way, I love pansies.”

      The torturous build-up of tension eased from her limbs and left her muscles tingling.

      Rhys cleared his throat. “We leave in an hour. I need to return to my hotel and retrieve my bags.” He shifted his cool attention to Caitlyn. “Ms. Reiley, a true pleasure to meet you. Perhaps I’ll see you once more during your stay in Wales.”

      She nodded, her smile stiff, but she remained intrigued. Rhys had reminded Shay of his trip as though informing a wayward child of their departure. “I hope so, too.”

      He bowed his head and strode across the room. Caitlyn watched him reach the elevator. A nagging thought told her Evers deliberately tried to hurt his friend’s feelings, and he’d used his charismatic abilities to drive his point home.

      After Rhys entered the elevator, she decided to try her hunch. “You did that on purpose. You like playing games with people, don’t you?”

      “Did what?”

      Oh, no, he didn’t just try to fluff her off. She had eyes and ears. What was he playing at? “You were pushing him. You wanted a reaction from him. Why would you be so mean? Isn’t he your friend?”

      “I like limits, Ms. Reiley. I like to push them. Do you?” Shay lifted a brow at her. Without taking his gaze off her, he raised a finger and motioned for an attendant to bring the wine tray.

      “From what you said, you’ve known each other all your lives. That’d make you close, like you said, brothers. Why would you do something like that?”

      “Do you ever talk to your friend about her behavior? Don’t you wonder what it would be like to see how far you can go with someone or something?” He removed two glasses from the tray and nodded toward a nearby doorway. “This conversation needs more privacy. Shall we?”

      “Of course,” she said with a slight nod. Good, she needed to question him. All her previous impressions of him disappeared in light of the real man. He had behaved so strangely to a man he’d declared to be a close friend. She hoped to find out why. And this would give her a chance to relieve some of the tension he’d forced her emotions to run through since she met him.

      They wove through the crowd, avoiding any major stops. When they reached the door, she glanced at the wine glasses in his hands for a second before opening it. He nodded thanks, and motioned for her to precede him. No one occupied the office with a sitting area. When the door breezed shut, they were alone, cut off from everyone.

      Shay moved toward the sitting area. Stopping in front of the sofa, he faced her, still holding the glasses. Neutral in tone, the sofa and end chairs contrasted with his stark white and black attire, making him appear larger and dangerous.

      Caitlyn studied him as he waited in front of the sofa. When he remained silent, she stepped to the closest chair and sank to the edge. He handed her a glass before sitting on the sofa and propping his feet on the table. He twirled the bowl of the fluted glass between his palms as he watched her.

      “Now, Ms. Reiley, are you upset with me?”

      The need to melt under his deep, relaxing tone came over her again. Fighting to maintain a hold on her senses, she took a gulp of wine. Warmth spread through her belly, helping compose her enough to speak.

      Calmer, she responded. “I’m not sure. I assume you hate blackthorn trees.”

      “You assume correctly.”

      “And yet, they’re his favorite.”

      “Correct again.”

      “So why did you describe the tree in such a dark, malicious way? I had the impression you were trying to make him angry or worse–hurt him.” She leaned forward, staring hard. “Tell me why? Do you hate him?”

      “I told you. I like to discover other people’s limits. I know his limit, and I push it to see if he can take it. As humans, we all do it in one way or another. This is my way. What is your way, Caitlyn Reiley?” He raised his glass and saluted her before he took a sip.

      His callous manner took her by surprise. Heat flooded her face and she struggled to maintain her even breathing as her anger flared. His charm had peeled off to reveal a cold-hearted man. Her attraction to him faded. “My friends are important to me. I wouldn’t hurt them.”

      “Hmm.” The very simple noise in his throat indicated a far more complicated thought roamed through his mind. “Well, it seems I’ve found one of your limits. But I’m thinking there are more. On the outside, you seem as you appear. Calm, cool, almost cold and analytical. But underneath, I can sense someone different.”

      He studied her far closer than before, his nostrils flaring a bit, and his gaze delved deeper than the surface of her body. He saw into her soul. The idea both intrigued and frightened her. “For instance, I think you would have me believe you aren’t affected by me at all.”

      Her eyes widened with his unexpected comment. She started to deny it, but he continued. “I think you want me to believe that you, of all the women out there,” he made an easy motion toward the larger, still crowded room, “are here only to observe me before you interview me. Does that explain why you sit so far away? You’re afraid if you come closer I’ll see your interest is deeper, darker and a little less professional.”

      The finely-shaped lips curled into a seductive smile that forced her lungs to stop working. The uncanny way he guessed the truth about her spurred an instinctive need to return to the safety of the other room. She gripped the arms of the chair to remain sitting.

      “But I can see there is still a professional side to this interview. And now I am led to wonder, what would you do to keep your place in this interview?”

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