CHAPTER SEVEN

Tim Emory stood across the room. His hands were tucked into the front of his jeans, and his eyes were too large in his face.

His shocked expression made me swear under my breath. Obviously, he'd seen everything. Slowly the surprise faded away and now he was looking at me hard, as though I were a suspect in a case, instead of his lover...

Former lover , I reminded myself.

Tim's eyes cut to the pool and then sharply back to me. "What was that?" he asked, his voice sounding more than a little strained.

Squaring my shoulders, I answered him. "Water magick."

"Water magick?" he repeated.

I shrugged. "The water was in a playful mood."

"The water was in a mood?" His eyes flared. "What the hell does that mean?"

I went over to my chair and picked up my towel. "It means that my magick is linked to the natural elements—water specifically. I'm a Water Witch, Tim. I made it a point to tell you at the beginning of our relationship."

"Yeah, you told me that you were a Witch, but I thought it was more a spiritual thing." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I've never seen you do anything like that before."

I stopped rubbing the towel over my hair and considered him. "That's because I was careful never to let my elemental magick slip in front of you. I didn't think you'd be able to handle the scope of it." As I stood beside the pool, the water within began to churn, and waves splashed angrily over the edges. Turning, I spoke to it. "Be still." Instantly it began to smooth out. I checked over my shoulder to gauge his reaction.

" Holy shit ," he whispered, as he stared at the water.

Suddenly feeling exposed in my one-piece, I grabbed my sweatpants and started to put them on.

"My god, did I ever really know you?" he said raggedly. "I had no idea. No idea that you were capable of this level of power... And to think I was upset that you might have worked a spell on me—"

"Are you deliberately trying to be offensive?" I asked him, yanking my waistband up. "Why in the hell are you here?"

"I wasn't trying to offend you—" He broke off and scrubbed a hand across his face. "Let me start over. I'm here Cordelia, because Austin finally told me where you were."

"I didn't think you cared where I was," I said, flipping the towel over the back of a chair. "You made that crystal clear the last time we spoke."

He stepped toward me and instantly the water rose in a large wave. In my anger, my magick had it slapping down hard over the pool deck creating a waist-high barrier between the two of us. Tim froze in place, but to his credit he did not flinch away from it.

"That's close enough," I warned him. "Tell me why you're here or get out."

"Okay, okay." Tim stayed where he was and held up his hands in a gesture of peace. He took a deep breath before speaking. "There's been some new developments in the case. We thought that I should—"

"You thought wrong," I said. "If there's new information Austin can contact me. There's absolutely no need for you to be here." I picked up my jacket and zipped it. "Consider your duty done, Deputy Emory." Scooping up the rest of my things, I turned to go.

"Cordelia." Tim's voice was quiet. "I'm so sorry."

Those last three words had me hesitating. I didn't turn around, instead I stood there and fought my rising emotions. "What exactly," I said, as my voice echoed off the walls of the pool area, "are you apologizing for?"

When he didn't answer immediately, I started again toward the exit.

"Wait!" he said.

I stopped and deigned to glance over my shoulder at him. "Well?" I asked impatiently.

"I'm sorry for everything," he said. "Sorry for the fight at the aquatic center. With your empathy, that misunderstanding probably caused you a lot of pain—both physical and emotional. It never occurred to me you were trying to block out all the negativity that was being directed toward you. I didn't realize a lot of things, and I should have."

My eyes narrowed. "You've been speaking to my sisters."

"No." He grimaced. "However, your Grandma Althea did have more than a few words to say to me. At top volume too."

I hope she burned your ass, I thought. Out loud I said, "I won't apologize for my grandmother."

"I'm not asking you to," he replied. "I'm sorry that I walked away from you, sorry that you didn't feel that you could trust me enough to reveal the depth—" He tilted his head meaningfully toward the stream of water that still separated us. "—of your abilities and your magick."

I could sense his remorse and regret from where I stood. Softly, I spoke a request to the element. The water rushed neatly back into the pool, as if it had never been there.

Slowly, Tim moved closer. "Is there somewhere we can talk privately, so I can bring you up to speed on the case?"

Pursing my lips, I considered his request. With my empathy, I knew that his apology had been heartfelt. Taking a moment, I carefully studied him. It was suddenly crystal clear to me that he was every bit as unhappy as I'd been.

"I suppose we can talk," I finally said.

"Do you have a room here at the hotel?" he asked.

My eyebrows went up. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Deputy."

He flushed slightly at my words. "No. That's not what I mean. I would never presume that..."

I waved that away. "I'm sure we can find a private place to talk."

"Could we use a banquet room, maybe?" he wondered.

"No." I shook my head. "The Masquerade Ball is tomorrow. They'll be setting up today and we need to stay out of their way."

"Oh."

"I know a place we can go...but to talk only ." I stressed those last two words.

"Of course," he said, sounding completely sincere. "Lead the way."

The sun was breaking the tree line as Tim followed me out of the hotel and into the gardens. He walked a few paces behind me, and I could sense that he was scanning the grounds for trouble or for anyone who did not belong there.

I pulled the carriage house keys from my pocket and started up the steps. When I reached the landing, I turned around to see he had hesitated and was waiting at the bottom.

"Come up, Tim," I said formally.

"I could go get us some breakfast, and we could sit outside on that patio to eat and talk," he suggested. "If that would make you more comfortable."

My heart shuddered at the sweetness of his suggestion. This was the kind and thoughtful Tim I'd fallen so hard for. I resisted the urge to smile at him, as we still had quite a bit of things left unsettled between us. "It's fine," I said and gestured for him to come up.

With a nod he began to climb the stairs, and I unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing him to enter first. After shutting the door behind us, I slapped on the light switch and the small living room was filled with light.

"I've never been in here before," Tim said looking around. "I know both Arianna and Angela lived here for a while."

"So did Chauncey," I said, unzipping my jacket. "The carriage house actually belongs to him. Have a seat, I'm going to go take a quick shower and get dressed."

He nodded and went to go and sit on the denim-covered sofa.

It didn't take long to gather some clothes, jump in the shower, rinse off the chlorine and get dressed. While I combed out my hair, I gave myself a lecture.

A part of me had missed him terribly and wanted nothing more than to fall straight back into his arms. To kiss him and make love with him until I couldn't see straight...despite the trust issues and challenges we had yet to face.

The other part of me knew that we still had a long way to go before there would be any sort of reconciliation. The first thing that needed to be discussed was the case. Secondly, we needed to clear the air about my magick, and what I did and did not do with it. Thirdly, we needed to discuss how and if we would be a couple again.

"Don't make it too easy," I warned my own reflection. "You have tons to work through with him." Not to mention, I thought, he is probably a tad afraid now that he's had his first demonstrations of elemental magick.

I emerged from the bathroom barefoot and wearing a loose black pullover shirt and a pair of Halloween leggings. Feeling a tad more confident, I managed about two steps before I smelled the food. Curious, I walked into my kitchen and found Tim standing at the stove and scrambling up some eggs.

"Make yourself at home," I said, surprised at what he was doing.

"Least I can do is make sure you have some food in your system," he said. "I figured you hadn't eaten yet."

"I haven't," I said, not sure if I was annoyed with him or touched at his thoughtfulness.

"Want some toast to go with the eggs?"

I saw two pieces of bread already waiting in the toaster and sighed. "You are not obligated to take care of me, Tim."

"I want to," he said, turning to meet my eyes. "It's the least I can do, after everything."

For a few seconds our gaze held. I honestly wasn't sure exactly what to say to him or how to start the conversation that so desperately needed to take place. Instead, I simply said, "I could go for some toast."

With a nod, he pushed down the button.

He already had plates and utensils out on the counter, so I opened the fridge and took out the carton of orange juice and a jar of strawberry jam, placing them on the table.

Tim scooped the eggs onto the plates. He switched off the stove and set the dishes on the table. Before I could even move forward, he was placing the utensils beside the plates. I went around him and grabbed a couple of glasses for the juice and the butter dish from the counter.

When the toast popped up, he added a slice to each plate, and then he pulled my chair out for me.

"Thank you," I said and sat, amazed at how polite we were being to each other. Tim took a seat, and I poured us both some juice.

The civility was downright awkward compared to how touchy we used to be.

"I figured it would be best if you had some protein in your system before we talked," he said, and my thoughts yanked back to the here and now.

"Of course," I said and applied myself to eating breakfast while it was hot.

We ate in companionable silence, and I fought the urge to rest my feet on his—as I usually did. More than once, I stopped myself from reaching over to rest my hand on his thigh beneath the table. It took more of an effort than I expected. But it wasn't appropriate…not right then. A reconciliation might not be possible. I wasn't even sure if he truly wanted one.

Once we were finished with our meal, I rose to my feet to take the dishes to the sink. After placing them within, I went and sat in the leather recliner, leaving the couch for Tim. I didn't think sitting beside him on the couch was the smartest thing in the world.

Not when I couldn't trust myself to keep my hands off him.

Tim followed me into the living room and took a seat on the far end of the sofa. "Feeling up to talking?" he asked.

I nodded. "Why don't we start with the case. You mentioned there's been a break?"

"Yes, there has been."

"What did the police learn?"

"Another letter in a blue envelope was delivered to the aquatic center. It was taped to the glass front doors of the center."

"What did it say?"

"It said: You can't hide forever . It was handwritten again."

"Any artwork?" I asked, trying to stay calm.

"No." He shook his head. "But this time the security cameras actually captured an image of the person."

"Do they know who it is?" I asked.

"No positive ID was made." Tim grimaced. "However, we know that they have dark hair, with long bangs. They're tall. The person could be male or female."

"Were they wearing a gray sweatshirt? The zip kind with the hood up?"

"Wait a minute." He did a double take. "How did you know that?"

"Because I did a psychometry reading on the last letter—the one left on my car's windshield. I picked up on an impressive amount of anger and hate directed toward me, and I also saw a person wearing gloves and a gray, hooded sweatshirt."

"What do you mean, you saw ?" His voice went up.

"The simplest way to explain it to you, is that I can read objects by touch. The ability is most commonly known as psychometry, but technically it's called clairtangency."

"Clairtangency?" he repeated.

"It literally means psychic touch," I said. "Often when I read an object the information that I receive is more than simple emotions. Sometimes it rolls into clairvoyance, and I see ."

"You mean like visions?"

"Yes." I nodded. "In this case I saw a picture of the person who left the letter. I did tell Austin to watch the security feed for someone in a gray hoodie."

Tim scowled over that. "You told Austin."

"Of course," I said. "He is the lead detective on the local police force after all. The man is in love with my sister, and he's open to the magick. I knew he wouldn't be spooked by my psychic abilities, so I told him."

"But you didn't feel that you could share any of that information with me?"

I took a deep breath in order to stay calm. "I've been watching you for two years, Tim. Watching and waiting for you to ask me about magick. My magick, but you never did."

"I talked to you about that entity I saw Arianna banish, in Ames Crossing," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but you only spoke about what you witnessed . You never asked for any technical explanations, nor did you ask me any questions about witchcraft or my practice."

"You're right," he said. "I never did."

I blinked at how quickly he had admitted that.

"And the stunned look on your face, Cordelia, shows me how badly I have screwed things up with you." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Were you that afraid to tell me about your abilities?"

"Not afraid," I said. "But I was nervous. I thought it might make you uncomfortable. So I tried to be—to act as mundane as possible whenever I was around you. I asked my sisters to do the same."

His eyes narrowed. "Your sisters hid their magick too?"

"Yes."

"This explains so much..." he trailed off. "I always felt like there was some running inside joke whenever I was with your family."

"It wasn't always easy for them to be discreet," I told him. "Brynn believed that I should show you my magick. But to start small and see how you handled it. Skye, on the other hand, she always said I should go full Bell Book and Candle on you, and let the chips fall where they may."

"Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak." He smirked. "I remember that old movie. It's a classic."

"In the end," I said, "I suppose I did as Skye suggested...I apologize if you were frightened at the pool."

"Cordelia." He shook his head. "I've made so many mistakes with you."

"To be fair," I said, "we both have made our share of mistakes in this relationship."

He sat back against the couch. "I almost hate to ask this, but, that morning in your apartment, after you found the letter on the windshield? What really happened between us? Was there magick involved, or..."

"No," I said. "I woke up and found that you were in my apartment watching over me...and to be honest it was very distracting."

He frowned. "Distracting?"

"Let me put it this way," I said. "I took one look at you and the last thing on my mind was the threatening letter. That morning I wanted a hell of a lot more from you than to simply talk about the stalker, or to ‘discuss the case.'"

"Meaning what exactly?"

"Meaning, that I wanted you to love me!" I snapped impatiently. "I wanted the man that I adored to drag me off to bed and take me so passionately that my brain would simply shut off. So I could forget all of the ugliness that was directed toward me—for a while at least."

Tim's hazel eyes seemed to glow. From where I sat, I could feel that he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"So you goaded me into being rougher than usual," he said carefully.

"Yes," I said. "But I did not spell you. If anything your reaction to me, it turned me on more than ever before. I could feel your desire...how it surged through you when I told you what I wanted."

"You could feel that?" he asked.

"Yes," I told him. "When I saw the images that flashed in your mind, I was bewitched by them. I felt the heavy rush of blood through your body, the race of your heart and the unevenness of your breath. With my psychic empathy, it pulled me under like a tidal wave. It made me desperate for you."

"I had no idea," he said quietly. "No idea that you could sense my emotions and be so affected by them."

"I have very few psychic shields where you are concerned," I admitted. "I loved you so much, and I thought I was safe to let go with you. Because I knew you would always be there to catch me, and keep me safe, no matter how intense things were between the two of us."

"Loved—as in past tense?" he asked.

"That's up to you," I said. "I'm done hiding who and what I am. I'm not going to do it anymore, not even for you, Tim. You'll have to take me as I am, or not at all."

He patted the couch beside him. "Come over here for a minute."

Cautiously I stood and went over to sit beside him, dropping my hands in my own lap.

As soon as I sat, he placed his hand over mine. "I love you," he said. "I'll always love you. I'm sorry about everything."

"I'm sorry too," I said. Keeping my eyes on our hands, I tried not to cry. "The water was picking up on my mood today. Again, I hope you weren't too alarmed by it. I should have found a better way to explain my magick to you."

"Oh trust me, today's demonstration was very educational," he said wryly.

I glanced nervously up at his face. But he was only teasing—and more importantly, he was smiling. "A crash course, if you will," I added, and that made him chuckle.

"I love you, Cordelia," he said. "I've loved the woman I've known for the past two years, but I'll admit that I'm falling hard for the Cordelia, the psychic empath, and the Elemental Witch, that I'm only starting to know."

"You make it sound like I'm more than one person."

He shook his head. "There's always been a mystery about you... I used to wonder if it was just my imagination. But now that you've finally opened up and shared your magick with me, I'm only more fascinated."

Slowly he leaned in. I sat right where I was and waited. His eyes stayed open when he pressed his lips to mine, and I kept my eyes open as well. Patiently he began to gently kiss my lips. With the tiniest of nips and licks he encouraged me to open my mouth to him.

It was everything I had not to tackle him to the floor and start tearing at his clothes. My emotions were boiling up inside of me, and I struggled hard to keep myself in check.

He lifted his lips a breath from mine. "I love you Cordelia," he said again.

A helpless groan escaped me, and he took immediate advantage of my open lips and slipped his tongue in my mouth. Still he teased and tormented, never pressing for more than the shallowest of kisses, and I wondered if I would simply explode into a puddle of lust.

"Now if I understand you correctly," he said between kisses, "you are physically affected by how much I want you?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He took my hands in his and pressed them to his chest. "Tell me what you see, what you feel , when you read me now."

Unable to do otherwise, I let his emotions, desire and love crash over me. My head fell back, and I shuddered at the intensity of the depth of his feelings. My heart rate picked up, and my breathing quickened. "Tim," I managed to say.

"So, you won't be surprised or shocked when I tell you that I'm about to haul you to the nearest bed and spend the rest of the day making love to you, in all sorts of ways."

"I'm not surprised." I shuddered and tried to keep my head. "But maybe…we should talk some more..."

"Talking is overrated," he muttered.

I started to laugh at that, but then I stopped—his expression had turned absolutely wicked.

"You're not wearing a bra," he said. "I love it when you don't." With that, he took hold of my shirt and pulled it up and over my head.

He dropped his mouth over my breast a moment later and began to suckle. Tim pressed me gently back to lay against the couch cushions, and in turn, I ran my hands over his back while he very slowly moved his attention to my other breast and then began to move lower and lower.

"If you keep this up, we won't make it to the bedroom." I gasped as he began to tug my leggings down.

"You'll be lucky if you don't end up on the floor." He grunted as he yanked harder at my leggings.

"What? Not do it in the bed? Tim, you are living on the edge."

"We make love on the couch at your place," he said, nipping at my belly. His lips were following the waistband as it was pulled lower, and a moment later I was naked. He dropped down over me, thrust his tongue deep inside and I screamed in delight.

Then he was standing and pulling his own clothes off. Dazed, I lay on the couch and watched as he stripped. First his plaid shirt, and then Tim tugged his jeans and briefs aside and he sprang free.

Reaching out I ran my fingers over his length and watched as he grew even harder. He shuddered and allowed me to explore as he kicked his way free of his shoes and pants.

Tim took my hand in his. "Bedroom," he said, tugging me to my feet.

Without another word, we went straight down the hall to my bedroom. Together we walked to the unmade bed and dropped down to the mattress together.

Tim rolled me beneath him, I opened, and he was sliding smoothly home. He filled me up and we held onto each other tightly, savoring the rightness of us being together.

"I love you," I whispered in his ear.

He braced his weight on his elbows and tenderly smoothed my hair back from my face. "And I love you," he said as he slung his hips forward a bit harder.

The headboard of the bed began thumping against the wall in time with his strokes, and I groaned, the sound only making me more aroused.

"See?" he whispered. "Being in a bed has its perks."

Reaching around behind him, I dug my nails into his backside, silently urging him on.

He hissed in reaction. "You make me crazy," he said, as he continued to thrust.

"Go crazier, why don't you?" I dared him.

He paused. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"I believe that's been established." I moved restlessly beneath him. "I'm trusting you Tim. No matter how intensely we love each other, no matter how dangerous the water, I trust you."

In answer, he lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me.