The Book of Sorrel, page 4
Was it the mortal’s fault or the pride of our family? I retorted.
She remained silent.
I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t like to argue with you.
You’re a special woman. Your father was not wrong there. You have his heart, for which I’m thankful. But what of this reporter?
I thought about Eric Knight. So many conflicting emotions surrounded him.
You’re attracted to him. I can feel it. It’s strong, Mom interrupted my thoughts. It feels like when I met your father.
I bolted up, jostling Tara. Really?
Yes. You feel as if you can’t help the attraction.
That’s exactly how I feel, except I can’t stand him. He’s awful.
Mom laughed. You sound like you’re having a hard time convincing yourself of that. Are you sure the book hasn’t spoken to you?
Positive. I mean, you don’t think he’s the one, do you?
Mom thought for a minute. There’s a way you could find out if the curse is broken.
How?
Sleep with him, of course.
Mom! I could kill him if I did. The curse made sure we never strayed outside of who it picked as our mate. If anyone of my kind had sex with someone besides the person we were bound to, that man died. My mother once told me a story about my great-great-great-grandmother who had fallen in love outside of the curse. She gave in to her desire and consummated the unsanctioned relationship. The next day the man was run over and killed by a stagecoach. There were also stories of men being driven mad after sleeping with my ancestors, to the point of killing themselves when the curse made them realize they could never be with the woman they loved—or rather, consumed with.
Sounds like a win-win situation to me, Mom deadpanned.
I can’t believe you think I should risk a man’s life. Besides, I want to share that experience with someone I love. But, I sighed, I don’t believe that will ever happen. The curse will die with me.
I fear you may be right, she cried. I’m sorry I cursed you.
I’m not, I half lied to make her feel better. I’ve helped a lot of people.
You are too good, daughter.
I don’t know about that.
Promise me you will be careful with this man; your emotions run strong for him.
I’ll try.
If you don’t want to sleep with him, you could always seduce him and convince him to forget about you, she suggested. We have our ways. I believe on page ten there’s a great little elixir that will do the trick.
Good night, Mom.
She laughed before I felt her go silent and out of my thoughts.
I scratched Tara’s ears in the semidarkness while flipping open the book, which had fallen off to the side when Tara had jumped on my lap. I turned it to page ten, curious about which elixir my mother was referring to. I hadn’t memorized them all yet, like she had. The words for the elixir appeared in English, a part of the book’s magic. The language changed depending on who the rightful heir was. Or so I was told. Honestly, I didn’t know what to believe anymore. All I knew was I wouldn’t be using the elixir meant to induce arousal.
If ever a man fell in love with me, I wanted it to be of his own accord. And for some unfathomable reason I couldn’t explain, I wanted it to be Eric.
Chapter Five
“Are you having fun?” I slid into the chair across from Eric. The rumor swirling around Riverhaven was that he’d been interviewing anyone and everyone who would talk to him the last few days. Now he had the audacity to show his pretty face in my bakery. Which wasn’t all bad. While I resented him, I was still drawn to him. So much so, I had to keep my hands clasped together on my lap for fear of accosting him. The last few nights I’d been dreaming about him. Like very real, steamy dreams. Dream Eric was an amazing kisser and spoke beautiful words. “What I wouldn’t give to know every part of you,” he’d whispered in my ear last night while his fingers skimmed over my skin. Though his touch was light, I could feel it deep within. Almost as if he were the only person meant to touch me. You know, while I was unconscious. That didn’t sound right, or legal.
Eric stared at my lips, amusement dancing in his eyes like he knew what I was thinking. Or perhaps was himself wishing what I wished. That my dreams would come true. Then he laid his pen down on his notes with a smirk so conceited it warranted being smacked off. “Didn’t you accuse me of not being able to have fun, Ms. Black?”
It was back to reality. Back to mostly despising him. “I suppose I did. So, what brings you here today, then?”
He leaned in, a rich, spicy scent rolling off of him. I recognized the intoxicating artemisia in his cologne. It was better known as wormwood. I had used it to help those suffering from malaria when I visited India during my travels. The way he smelled and the way he looked at me made my hands itch to come out and touch his stubbled cheeks like I had in my dreams. But I had to remind myself that this man was not the man of my dreams, just the man in my dreams.
“I thought perhaps it would be fun to see you again.”
His seductive tones sent a shiver down my spine. “Is that so?” I stuttered.
“Yes, as much as I’ve enjoyed interviewing your sycophants all week, I wanted to get up close and personal to my subject.”
I had to press my lips together before I said, “I would like that too. Very much.” Thankfully, my head reminded me what a jerk he was. “Sycophants?”
“Flatterers and fawners,” he cockily clarified.
“I know what the word means. I may not have taken Journalism 101 like you, but I’m not uneducated.” My education might not have come in the halls of higher learning, or in any school for that matter, yet I was well learned. My classroom was the world, and at my mother’s and father’s feet.
His eyes dropped. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I tilted my head. “Are you sure? What do you call interviewing all my friends and acquaintances?”
He picked up his pen and tapped it on the pad of paper. “I call it a challenge. I’ve never met someone as admired and loved as you.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’m skeptical. You know what they say: ‘If it sounds too good to be true, it always is.’”
I shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. But . . .” I leaned in and spoke softly. “What if what you see before you is who I am? A woman who sells tea and cake.”
He thought for a moment, his eyes searching my own. “You don’t know how much I wish that were true. But I don’t live in fairy tales.”
“You think I’m make-believe?”
“Well, according to your fans, you cure diseases, make Christmas wishes come true, and leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
“You forgot X-ray vision and superspeed,” I teased him.
He chuckled, and I remembered the way he laughed in my dreams. It was melodic and heartfelt, not sarcastic like now. “Please accept my apologies for underestimating you.”
I pushed my chair back and stood. “You shouldn’t underestimate me.”
He looked up at me with narrowed eyes. “I don’t.”
“Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up, what can I bring you? These tables are for paying customers only.”
He gave me a half smile. “Touché, Ms. Black.”
“Please call me Sorrel.” That’s what he’d called me in my dreams.
“Sorrel,” he crooned.
Oh, was that sexy. I grabbed onto the chair.
His grin said he knew it affected me. “I’ll take some tea.”
“What kind?” I breathed out, trying to compose myself and wondering why I felt so overcome by him.
“You choose.” He had no idea the power he’d just given me.
My father’s words rang in my head that those who were given great power must use great restraint. I had never used my gifts as a weapon. I was to heal, not hurt. And as much as I wanted to make him forget about this ridiculous story he was writing, I wouldn’t do it by supernatural means. However, I might give him a little something to make him happier, but that was only because I was a good person.
“I’ll be right back.” I turned to leave.
“I look forward to it.”
I stopped midturn. “For a second there, you fooled me. You almost sounded sincere.”
“Believe me, there is hardly a thing I look forward to more than your return.”
There was dream Eric in the flesh. My mouth dropped open, only to make a squeaking sound. I pointed to the counter. “I’m going to go now,” I eked out, hardly able to speak.
Josie was waiting for me near the end of the display case. I had texted her when Eric walked in about thirty minutes before, telling her I needed reinforcements. She was shaking her head at me. “Hey there.” She clapped loudly in my face, bringing me back to my senses. “What was all that about? Looks like you were on a date. Did you forget that he’s enemy number one?”
“I know, I know,” I whispered, mad at myself.
“He’s trying to seduce you.” Josie glared at the man who was now fixedly staring at his phone while simultaneously writing notes at a furious pace. What had he found? Surely it couldn’t be about me. Honestly, besides having weird abilities, I had a boring history; you know, other than traveling the world in search of exotic plants and curing people.
“What reason would he have to seduce me?” I kept my voice low in the hope that none of my other customers heard what we were talking about. The town was already abuzz about the reporter. Some people had purposefully sought him out, offended on my behalf. I’d heard sweet Fran, who was a regular customer of mine, had even set her German shepherd on him, though apparently Eric was some kind of dog whisperer and it all came to nothing except him being licked half to death. I was almost jealous of the dog.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re hot and he wants to sleep with you,” Josie responded too loudly.
I elbowed her.
She lowered her voice. “He’s probably waiting to offer you a deal. Sex in exchange for him keeping his mouth shut.”
That would be a fatal error on his part. And it made me sick to think that was his plan. My insides squirmed imagining he was that kind of man. Sure, he was a jerk, but sexual coercion was inexcusable. “There’s nothing for him to keep his mouth shut about.”
Josie patted my arm. “I know. Seriously, you’re so vanilla.”
“Thanks for that.”
She laughed. “You know it’s true. You don’t even date.”
I stared at Eric, thinking about the dates we had shared in my dreams. Last night it was a picnic at Emerald Falls, above the town. It started out cute and innocent, and then we ended up in the water, and let’s just say it became a hot spring. Apparently, I had a better imagination than I ever knew. So much so, I couldn’t wait to go to bed tonight. I shook myself out of those thoughts. “I need to get to work,” I commented.
“All right. I’ll keep an eye on the reporter. Do you want me to seduce him? I’m not above some bribery.” She wagged her brows.
“No,” I said way too fast.
She flashed me a crooked grin. “You like him.”
“Of course I don’t.” I blushed. “I gotta go.” In haste I headed back behind the counter to make Eric’s tea.
Josie giggled before sauntering Eric’s way and taking a seat at his table. She said nothing, just folded her arms and gave him the look. The look only a southern woman could give. It had been known to put the fear of God in many a child and man, I was told. However, Eric hardly paid her any attention. Whatever game he was playing, he was good at it. But he had no idea who he was up against. Josie stretched out her legs and propped her feet up on the table. Normally, I wouldn’t have wanted her to do that, for sanitary reasons, but I let it slide. Seeing the shock in Eric’s eyes was worth it. His shock, though, was soon replaced with determination. He went right back to work as if she weren’t there.
All my employees and customers were glued to the cat and mouse game going on in the corner. If anything, I think Eric’s presence would be good for business, at least in the short term. What if he did find something to raise suspicions that I wasn’t normal? Would people start to believe it was witchcraft, as a few people already suspected? Would I get figuratively burned at the stake? Maybe I would be forced to leave and take on a new identity before I was ready. I’d hoped to stay in Riverhaven until I was thirty-five. It was the first place that had felt like home in a long time. The first time I’d had a best friend other than my mother. Mom had always cautioned against forming attachments to mortals, yet all I’d found myself wanting to do was get close to people.
I had Leann drop off Eric’s tea at his table. I chose a rose damiana tea that would not only help him relax but maybe soften his heart a bit. I could never be sure. I had a feeling he was a tough cookie to crack. Maybe he hadn’t gotten enough love as a child. Something told me he hid who he really was behind his beautiful, hard exterior. I could tell that he carefully watched his emotions. Even when he’d told me he couldn’t wait for me to return, I could see how it agitated him that he’d expressed how he truly felt. I wasn’t the only one with secrets to keep. Or maybe it was just the nature of his job.
While Eric and Josie proceeded with their battle of wills, I got ready for my next wedding cake tasting appointment. During each appointment I offered a variety of flavors, everything from carrot cake to fresh strawberries-and-cream cake. But there was always one special cake. Today it was the lemon-berry cake. I’d added an elixir infused with enhanced valerian and blackthorn to it. No one would be able to the detect the extra ingredients, but once digested, it would encourage the partaker to be honest with themselves and hopefully their partner. Sometimes they needed a little coaxing on my part. I could tell if one or both partners needed to share something. It was all in the tint of their skin. The redder the tint, the bigger the indiscretion. However, while the elixir had the power to bring out the lies in people, the opposite was true as well. If the couple were truly in love, with no secrets between them, the elixir would have them professing their heartfelt feelings for their intended. I loved when that happened. And I hoped for Gabrielle and Richie’s sake that today only feelings of love would exist.
What I hadn’t accounted for was Eric staying for the show. Apparently, he’d run into Gabrielle yesterday while he was interviewing people. She’d blabbed about their appointment, and he wanted a front-row seat. That was disappointing. I’d thought he’d come to see me. I really needed to stop thinking like that. I was going to have to make myself an elixir for clarity and sanity soon if I couldn’t get control over my thoughts.
I tried not to let his presence throw me off my game when the happy couple arrived. They really were cute. High school and college sweethearts. They’d both barely graduated from the University of Tennessee. Neither of them stood taller than five feet, five inches, even with their cowboy boots on. While they waited for me to bring out the samples of cake, they gazed into each other’s eyes. They were off to a good start. I hoped it stayed that way. No telling what Eric would write if he saw an epic breakup in here. It made me almost reconsider adding the “special” cake to the tray, but it wasn’t fair to Gabrielle and Richie not to.
When I arrived with the samples, Eric had pulled over his table to be near them and was “interviewing” them. “Why did you pick Love Bites to make your wedding cake?” Apparently, my tea hadn’t worked the way I’d hoped. I would have to up the dosage for him next time.
“Because Sorrel’s the best.” Richie pecked Gabrielle on the lips. “And my girl deserves the best.”
“Aren’t you worried about this bakery’s reputation?” Eric said in front of me with no qualms at all.
Gabrielle nuzzled her nose against Richie’s. “Not at all. We know we’ll never break up.”
I pushed Eric out of the way and set the pink platter full of neatly arranged samples in front of the lovely couple. “Are you ready to begin?”
The eager pair nodded.
“Why don’t we start with the lemon berry?” The properties within the elixir needed time to work.
“Ooh, I love lemon berry.” Gabrielle picked up the small fork and took a rather large bite. While she chewed, she groaned in pleasure.
Richie also took a decent-sized bite. “It’s good,” he said with a full mouth, “but it’s kind of girly. I’m more of a chocolate guy.”
“We can have more than one flavor, silly.” She wiped some frosting off his lip with her thumb.
Eric looked like he wanted to vomit at the cuteness.
Josie, who had come over with Eric, was rolling her eyes. She wasn’t into mushy stuff either.
It didn’t bother me. In fact, I was quite jealous, knowing I would never have this moment. Even if the book ever did tell me who to marry, there would be no ceremony or reception. No announcements or fanfare. I would speak the words of the binding ceremony, and that man would be forever lost to his own family as if he had never existed. His life from then on would be ruled by the curse and the power of the book. It almost felt like slavery. My dad had never complained, but he’d been an orphan.
“Try the chocolate ganache cake next,” I suggested.
“Now we’re talking.” Richie dug in. He closed his eyes and savored. “This is heaven right here.” He pointed with his fork at the cake.
Gabrielle gave him a big smooch. “I’m so glad you like it.”
“I love you, pookie bear.” He tapped her nose.
“I love you too,” Gabrielle cooed.
“Nothing is keeping us apart,” Richie declared.
“You’re so right, baby . . . except . . .” Gabrielle pressed her lips together hard, but her neck started to splotch pink as if she were embarrassed. “Except for . . . ,” she fought the words coming out of her mouth. “Except for I hate your momma,” she blurted before her hands flew to her mouth.
Richie dropped his fork. His cheeks flushed. “Well, I hate it when you treat me like a child!”
The startled couple stared at each other, not sure what to make of each other’s revelations.
