Sweet Seduction Sabotage (31 page)
"Stop that!" I reprimanded and watched in utter shock as the branch on the potted palm next to her swatted at Sonya's hand. She let out a choked, strangled sound, then reached forward to grasp the base of the pot as though she thought the movement meant it was about to fall off its stand. With two hands and a frown line marring her usually smooth forehead, she shoved the pot back a few centimetres, despite it not needing to be moved at all, and then dusted her palms off on her jeans.
I was so stunned that she hadn't realised that the plant had actually swatted her, that I stood up too quickly. And consequently made the chair tumble over backwards crashing into a tower of baking trays, which all clattered to the ground in a thundering crash.
Sonya yelped. I shushed her. Then we both started snapping at each other as adrenaline flowed.
A noise came from the front of shop interrupting our little sniping match, then pushing through the swinging kitchen doors, into the chaos and raised voices, stood Theo. Staring at Sonya who was still yelping and now swearing something unspeakable about bossy employers and even bossier best friends, and then his gaze turned to me, as I bent over trying frantically to right the baking trays with little success.
But at the sight of Theo Peters - made to measure suit, red silk tie and stunning hazel eyes - I promptly dropped the lot of them. The clang of metal on tile rang out and Sonya screamed in surprise. Then promptly stormed from the kitchen with a look of thunder on her face directed at me. I huffed out a breath at Sonya's inability to handle loud and disruptive situations at the best of times, and tried to ignore Theo's piercing gaze.
"Let me help you with that, Cassandra," he said in that deep, velvet voice of his
.
For some reason Theo always calls me Cassandra. I don't know why, but he does. And although I should be annoyed by it, I am endeared. My reaction makes no sense at all. Maybe it's his slight Greek accent; Cassandra rolling off those lush red lips not only sounds seductive, it somehow connects right to that hidden spot between my legs. Every time he calls me Cassandra, I threaten to pool in a puddle of longing and desire at his feet.
"Don't be silly," I chided. "You're a customer, you shouldn't even be back here."
I started stacking the trays haphazardly, tempting fate as they would surely topple again. Theo reached over my shoulder and straightened them, his proximity almost too much. I slipped out from under his arm and placed several steps between us. It was one thing to verbally spar with the man, but anything physical still made my legs turn to jelly.
I stared up at him for a moment, enjoying the fact that he wasn't watching me, but instead concentrating on his task. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He simply stole my breath. Thick black hair, cut a little too long for fashion, but somehow setting a trend of its own. Tall, at well over six feet, with broad shoulders and long legs. His clothing, whether dressed for work in his expensive suits, or just in casual weekend wear, was bespoke. Definitely from High Street, or Smith and Caughey's on Queen. If I could afford it, I'd shop there.
His eyes were a mesmerising hazel, hints of jade and amber in amongst a deeper brown. He had a strong, firm jawline, with cheeks that cut sharp lines across his face. His lashes swept down to meet them, and I often found myself just staring at their length. There was a hollow at the base of his neck, that when dressed in a suit and tie I couldn't see. But on weekends, when he'd bless my store with his presence, I saw it. I was staring at that hidden spot now, when his attention turned back to me.
"Where have you been,
Oraia
," he said softly, taking a step towards me. He'd called me that before too. I'd looked it up on-line. It was Greek for 'lovely'. An endearment he surely used on every girl in town.
"I had an accident," I admitted, reaching out to smooth a leaf on the potted palm that had just caused this ruckus. The branches seemed to sway towards me and for a moment all I could do was suck in air. It was calming to touch them, but to see them move in a way that was not possibly natural, made me hold my breath.
I glanced up at Theo to see if he'd witnessed the unnaturally moving palm, but his eyes were on me. I watched as his face slowly turned completely white. That was saying something; Theo, being of Greek descent, had an all-year-round tan. Those beautiful eyes also widened for a moment and then he sucked in his own breath of air, muttering something under his breath that decidedly sounded like a swear word. But I couldn't be sure; I think it was Greek.
His gaze ran over my entire body, but unlike before when heat had pooled deep down inside whenever he'd done that same move, a chill of dread followed the path where his gaze landed. And when his eyes came up to mine they flashed. Actually flashed a different colour. And not any colour I'd seen on
anyone
ever before. But gold. His hazel eyes flashed gold; pure, brilliant, shining yellow-gold.
He shook his head once, hands fisted at his sides, and then spun on his heel and stormed through the door to the front of the shop. I followed hurriedly behind him, wanting to ask him what was wrong. But by the time I made it to the footpath, he was gone.
And all that met me was a wash of heat across my body, as though a fire had flared and I'd stepped too close. I jumped back inside the doors to my deli, seeking refuge automatically amongst the plants.
Something had upset Theo and I had a sinking feeling it wasn't anything that I'd like.
Nicola Claire lives in beautiful Taupo, New Zealand with her husband and two young boys.
She's tried her hand at being a paramedic, bank teller and medical sales representative, (not all necessarily in that order), but her love of writing keeps calling her back.
She has a passion for all things supernatural, spiced up with a good dollop of romance - as long as they include strong characters, alpha males and capable females, and worlds which although make-believe are really quite believable in the end.
There's nothing better than getting caught up in a compelling, intriguing and romantic book.
When she's not writing or reading, she's out on her family boat at Lake Taupo, teaching her young boys to fish, showing them the beauty that surrounds them in nature and catching some delicious trout for dinner.
Kindred has been a joy to write, creating a rich world with dynamic characters and paranormal twists that shock and awe has been pure bliss for this author. And just as well, because there's a lot more story yet to tell...
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