Page 106 of A Winding Wave of Magic
Jonathan took his hand back while I stared at him. “Cassandra…”
“I don’t understand.” My voice was hoarse like I’d been shouting. “You don’t even like me that much.”
“That’s not entirely accurate,” he said calmly. “As I said when I arrived.”
“Not like that. You made that extremely clear when I—” I couldn’t quite finish the sentence. My cheeks flushed hot.
“You didn’t See everything that night, as I’ve just demonstrated.” He looked uneasy now, though his gaze was pinned to the drivers ahead of us. “I am attracted to you, yes. In spite of your maddening character flaws, you have a great deal of spirit, and physically, you are a very striking woman.” He peeredsidewise at my astonished expression. “Come now, I can’t be the first person who’s said you’re pretty.”
“But—but—but—” I sputtered. “I tried to kiss you, and all I felt was your paralyzing fear. You were terrified that night. Of me.”
Another shrug. How could he act like this was nothing?
“You surprised me,” he replied, like I’d just popped unexpectedly around a corner. “You can be assured, Cass…I like you well enough. Much more than I expected I would.”
I was quiet, watching him watching me like I was a cat poised to scamper away. He was so good-looking, and I had never been with a fae. His lips looked quite soft, and the strong shape of his jawline had not escaped my attention either…
“Cassandra.”
I looked up from contemplating the shape of his mouth to find him looking at me with mild impatience and…was that pity? I furrowed my brow. In just one word—my name—his tone was pregnant with warning.
“I can’t pretend that I don’t think you’re beautiful. Honestly, it’s exhausting trying to shield that from you. But this can’t happen.”
I frowned more. “It can’t?”
“No, it can’t.” One side of his mouth hooked into a smirk. “You’re interested?”
Once more, my skin heated. “No. I just don’t like being told I can’t have something. What’s so bad about me, anyway?”
“Well, for one, you’re a client. It would be unprofessional.”
“Because stalking me all over Boston and Oregon is professional.”
He smiled. “Touché. But did you ever think that perhaps I’m simply not interested in starting anything at the moment?”
All that came out of my surprised mouth was laughter, big, gulping guffaws that started to make me hiccup viciously.“You”—hiccup—“don’t”—hiccup—“have to do”—hiccup—“that.” I grabbed my water bottle from my backpack and downed about half of it.
“Do what?” Jonathan asked.
I replaced the lid. “The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bit. If you have a girlfriend or something, you can just say it, or if there’s something that puts you off, you can say that too.”
He exhaled through frustrated, clenched teeth. “All right, Cass, have it your way.”
“And what way is that?”
“You’re right. I don’t want to start anything because it would be a mess.”
“Excuseme?”
He shrugged yet again, that extremely European gesture that was quickly becoming his most infuriating quirk. “Your grandmother recently died, my father tried to kill you, you’re leaving for Ireland shortly. You’re all over the place emotionally, and I just don’t want to get involved like…that.”
It felt like his words were physically smacking me in the face, one by one. And yet, I knew that starting something with anyone was a bad idea. Not that I was going to let him get the satisfaction of knowing he was right.
I turned toward the window and stared at the suburbs beyond the guardrail. Jonathan turned on the blinker as we reached the exit toward Hanscom.
He didn’t want to get involved. Well, that was fine with me. I had my own things to worry about.
I hadn’t realized just how much I had been dreading the flight to Seattle until we had pulled up at the civilian airstrip next to Hanscom Air Force Base.
