Page 68 of The Witch is Back

“Yeah. Sometimes, if I’m very careful, I’ll move an object under the sand so he discovers it.”

“That’s nice.”

“I’m a nice guy.”

“Ha.” But she was smiling.

He gazed at her, mirroring that smile. He was so close and it was like it was just the two of them.

If he broached the small gap, if he leaned in a little more...

A noise from the other end of the bar popped the bubble. He straightened. “We’re, ah, not here to talk about me, anyway. We’re talking about your powers.”

He said it quietly, so she didn’t worry that anyone had overheard. She just made a face and wriggled her tense shoulders in their thin sweater. “Fine. But you mean lack of, right?”

Something flickered in his face. “Does it bother you? The...smallness of your gifts.”

Ouch. Although she realized he wasn’t trying to be hurtful, he’d succeeded anyway.

“No.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I just know what everyone else thinks.”

“You wouldn’t ask for more if you could?” The intensity of his stare surprised her into a small, awkward laugh. Ah, the irony...

“No. At least, I don’t think so. What do I need with a lot of powers?” She indicated the crowd. “I’m living in the human world. Magic isn’t exactly an advantage—at least not if you’re sticking to ethics.”

“Didn’t know witches had those,” he quipped, something easing in his expression. Even so, he continued to study her as if her words held the key to a greater truth. What truth, she had no idea.

In any case, he soon moved on. “You’re too tense. Magic is natural for us. Just breathe.” He reached out, stroked a finger down her throat. “In.” His finger trailed back up. “Out.” As if that was going to help her relax.

Despite the ball of lust tightening in her belly, Emma breathed with him, forced her shoulders down from where they hung out with her ears.

“Good,” he praised. “Now.” He put the mat back in front of her. “Lift this.”

She shot a furtive look around.

“I’ve cast a curtain spell; they won’t see anything.”

“Must be nice to be so powerful.”

“It doesn’t take much. I’ve just used it a lot.” He lifted his eyebrows at whatever he read on her face. “Gutter mind. On digs.”

“Oh.” She focused on the beer mat. Then looked back at him. “You sure nobody will see?”

“Emma...”

“Fine.” She breathed out as instructed and stared at the mat. With one hand, she gestured to lift it up. It hovered two inches above the bar.

“Can you do it without your hands?”

She bit her lip. “Not really. It takes a lot more concentration.”

“We’ll work on that. Looks more impressive if you don’t use your hands. Besides, it can come in handy, so to speak.”

Conjured by his words, the memory of the telekinetic hand grazing her thigh punched into Emma’s mind. The beer mat smacked back onto the bar.

He looked in question at her.

She avoided both the look and the question by pushing the mat to the side. “I told you I didn’t have much.”

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