Page 14 of In the Dark

He saw Karsia relax with the hint of a grin playing around her lips. “You don’t say?”

“The incident pretty much ended my cooking career. I gave it up to pursue more academic pursuits. My mother,” he told her, “was a wonderful woman. She assured me I could be whatever I wanted. She encouraged me to follow my passions.”

“Academia seems to suit you better.”

Her casual observance pleased him. Morgan enjoyed knowing she thought of him as more than a means to an end, even if she’d never admit it. If embarrassing stories from his youth brought a hint of her beatific smile, then he would indulge her.

“Thank you. I appreciate the observation. I still dabble in cooking now and then but the results are usually the same. Garbage, pure and simple.”

Karsia speared a piece of meat and chewed. Loudly. “Remind me to never let you cook dinner for me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I want you to like me, and the surest way to turn you off is through meal preparation. Which is why I come here more often than not. I’m afraid to say…I’m a regular.” He leaned in close for the whispered confession, catching a whiff of her in the process. She smelled of something sweet and light and feminine. It called to him.

“The food is good here,” she admitted grudgingly. “Some of the best Italian I’ve had in a while.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great!” Her positive divulgence stunned him and he jumped on the topic like a dog on a bone. “Do you usually like Italian food?”

As quickly as she’d opened up, the gates slammed shut. “No.”

He shook his head and worried at his bottom lip. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Close yourself off. I’m trying not to take it personally, but I’ll admit to a sentimental streak,” he said. “I like knowing you care about what I say and vice versa. I was trying to ask you a simple question.”

“And I didn’t want to answer. Now move on.” She let her hands drop to the tabletop.

Morgan could not help himself. “You have the most amazing eyes.”

The compliment took her by surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t help but notice the unusual color. They’re almost black if you just glance, but looking closely I can see there are deep navy-blue swirls around the retina. With flecks of gold like stars in the night sky. Your eyes…they’re very pretty.”

Karsia tilted her head away from him and a flush rose from the collar of her shirt, her temper ticking like a bomb. “You can stop making fun of me now. They aren’t what they used to be and I’m well aware of the change, thank you very much. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I know only demons have black eyes. And that’s what I’ve become. Nothing but a dirty thing meant for destruction.”

Morgan looked at her and twitched his nose to orient himself. “Hold on a minute.” He clasped his fingers to hers a second time and tried to keep her there, keep her from running when she clearly wanted to, ready to bolt.

She stared down at where his fingers gripped hers, and heat rose, heat so intense that whiffs of smoke rose from his skin. Morgan held tight despite the pain and directed his attention elsewhere. Fingertips could be replaced.

“If you know what’s good for you, you will let go of me. Before I do something worse than third-degree burns.”

“I’m not letting you leave like this.”

Karsia tried to free herself from his surprisingly strong grip and found the task more difficult than she would have thought. Eventually, she managed to tug her hand away, wiping it on the fabric of her pants.

“I think our time is done here, Mr. Gauthier.”

The eyes he had admired moments before were granite-hard as she shot him a furious glance.

“I’m sorry. No.” He took his time returning his hands to his lap while carefully restoring his form to perfection. The third-degree burns on his wrist melted away until he once more presented smooth, unblemished skin. “How about you stay and we continue our conversation like adults?”

“I don’t think so.” Giving in to her irritation, Karsia grabbed her untouched glass of wine and downed it in a single gulp. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve, swung into her coat with one hand, and shoved her arms through. “Don’t contact me until you have more information about the legend,” she told him. “Otherwise, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you. No more getting to know you bullshit. This dinner was a mistake. A bad mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake. And you need to give me time to get your information,” he called after her.

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