She had to remind herself that she didn’t know him. That he didn’t know her. That clinging to his hand like it was the only rope in a storm was completely unacceptable.
Emma pulled her hand back and rested it on the table, glad she was sitting so that the chair could support her. Her neck heated. She had gripped his hand like a lost child. Nathan was looking at her with undisguised horror and she couldn’t blame him.
She swallowed and cast around for a distraction, anything to take her mind off the compulsion to cling to him. This man who she could touch, who looked like Zach—who she wished was Zach—but wasn’t.
“It’s the dangers of the job,” she said quietly.
He blinked, no doubt confused by the sudden change in subject. “What is?”
She turned her hands over to show the callouses. The ancient burns. Her excuse for being weird about shaking hands. “Running a bakery is not for people afraid of a little pain.”
Nathan didn’t reply. If anything, he looked even more disgruntled.
Okay. She’d give it one more try, and if that didn’t work, she’d smile and leave. She’d humiliated herself enough. Emma cleared her throat. “What do you do, Nathan?”
He watched her for a long moment, the silence stretching out between them until she was certain he was done. But then he replied, “I’m a project manager. In London.”
That explained the suit and the glare. “You don’t live around here then?”
“No.” His denial was instant, almost harsh, his frown deepening as he watched her. “No, I’m only here for a few days’ break. Then I’m going back.”
Emma forced herself not to wince. He wasn’t rejecting her. He was just telling the truth about his life… wasn’t he? Or maybe he was rejecting her? Maybe he’d already decided that the strange woman who had clung to him was losing her mind.
Emma snorted to herself. She probablywaslosing her mind.
It was a good thing that he would be leaving soon. Nathan was not for her, and she had to make herself believe it. He confused her, he was grumpy to the point of rudeness, and she hardly knew him. He was irrationally attractive and utterly compelling. He’d invited her to sit with him, but now he was hardly speaking. He raised feelings in her—wants and needs and confusion—that could only end in pain. He could touch her, and she could touch him, and she had reveled in it. And most of all, he looked just like Zach, but wasn’t. It was confusing and unsettling.
Still, maybe she could take this as an opportunity. He was here for a few days. He didn’t need to tell her his life story. Actually, it was better if he didn’t. She didn’t want to take the risk of getting to know him. She didn’t want to like him. Being able to touch him was already too much. She’d been alone for so long, maybe she could have this one thing?
Maybe she could have someone put his hands on her, and she could take the risk of touching him back. Just for a little while.
She’d had one-night stands and casual hookups in the past. Always with Duine, obviously, so her Shadows weren’t an issue. Sometimes, if they’d both been drinking heavily, the images were muted enough to be bearable. She was careful to touch through clothes and sheets as much as possible, and casual sex didn’t exactly require hand holding. But she’d never had any kind of relationship. Never even tried to find someone who would be worth the risk to touch for an extended time.
Partly it was because she still believed in protecting the Order, despite everything that happened, and she couldn’t run the risk of exposing her people. Partly it was because she couldn’t hide her reaction to touching someone for more than a few hours. But mostly it was because however much her father hated her, he’d never stopped considering her as a reflection on him. As far as Gordon was concerned, he owned her, and the risk that he would hear that she was in a relationship with a norm was unacceptable. Not because of the risk to her—what more could he possibly do to her?—but the risk to the norm.
Since she’d moved to this small town, she’d kept to herself. A casual hookup in a nightclub in Paris was completely different to spending the night with someone she was going to see at work the next morning. And Gordon was that much closer to where she lived now.
But Nathan was leaving soon, and the horrified look had slowly cleared from his face, leaving behind the frown she was starting to think of as his default setting. And he had offered for her to join him, after all.
“I’m going back to London soon,” he repeated more softly, as if trying to compensate for his earlier harsh tone. “But Swanage is lovely. I can see why people choose to live here.”
It wasn’t much, but it felt like an olive branch. Or perhaps an opening. She cleared her throat. “Would you like to get a drink? While you’re here.”
Nathan leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, neither rejecting the idea nor agreeing. His face was blank and unreadable, but if she had to guess, she would say he was simply hiding his discomfort.
Emma shrugged and forced herself to smile. “Or not.” She stood, ready to escape. “Hope you have a good holiday. There are some beautiful hikes and the castle is very atmospheric. Becky can give you some ideas. She’s lived here much longer than I have.”
“I’ve been up to the castle already, thank you.” He looked away, just as he said it, and she wondered if he was about to stand and walk away, to take his coffee and go, as he had on previous days. But then he nodded—almost to himself—and met her eyes. “I’d rather get dinner. If you’re free?”
Emma froze. Dinner. That was not at all what she’d expected him to say. She made herself relax, running her locket along its chain and letting the familiar vibration settle her thoughts while giving herself time to consider. Dinner wasn’t in her plan. That went completely against the idea of avoiding any kind of attachment. But, on the other hand, she hadn’t been out anywhere for months. If Nathan was as silent as he’d been for the past ten minutes, there was no risk that she’d get to know him. Perhaps she could have some good food and a night when she didn’t have to feel quite so alone. Perhaps the risk was worth it. She let go of the locket. “Okay.”
A slow, icy prickle climbed up her spine, settling for a moment behind her left eye, and she blinked against the spike of pain, willing it away. It wasn’t a vision. It wasn’t some kind of premonition. If the debacle of thinking Nathan was Zach had shown her anything, it was that there was no benefit in trying to force an ability she didn’t have.
If everything went right, she would have a few hours of comfort. And if it all went wrong, she could go home, pull on her comfy clothes, and read a book like she normally did. She could never have Zach, but she could have a few hours with Nathan. She could feel like a human, just for a while.
When he left it would sting, but it would be a good kind of hurt. The kind that reminded her that she was alive.
ChapterSix
