realize that this is
pointless,” I told her once she guided me to the backseat of her
car. “I can just look into your head to see where we are
going.”
This was only partially true since
Gretchen was doing everything in power to keep me from doing just
that. For most people, that task would have been monumental, if not
impossible. Gretchen, though, was a Mind Manipulator, same as me.
Her ability to block my intrusions was better than most.
“I know, dear. But don’t you want
to be surprised?”
I said nothing. No, I didn’t want
to be surprised. When you are a mind reader and always know what
others are thinking and feeling, you fear the unknown.
Ten minutes later, Gretchen
stopped the car and opened her door. I fumbled with my seatbelt and
then felt along the side of the door for the handle. Before I
located it, the door swung open, and I nearly fell out. Long
fingers encircled my upper arm, catching me before I got a face
full of gavel. Instantly, I knew the fingers belonged to Erik. His
touch was so familiar, firm and soft at the same time. He took my
other hand and helped me from the back seat.
“Thank you, Mrs. McDonough,” Erik
called to Gretchen. Then the sound of tires on gravel signaled her
departure.
“Was the blindfold really
necessary?” I asked Erik. Since he refused to let me into his mind,
I refused to communicate with him mentally.
“Yes,” Erik replied. He kept hold
of one of my hands while placing the other on the small of my back
to guide me. “I like you this way, all damsel-in-distress, in need
of prince charming to help you.”
I knew he was teasing, so I smiled
in his general direction. But his comment bothered me. Lately, I
was helpless. Without Gretchen, Mac, and even Donavon, I barely
functioned. Gretchen hadn’t helped me get ready for Erik’s arrival
simply because she was excited for me, her pseudo-daughter, and my
big weekend with my boyfriend. She’d gone through all the trouble
because I was incapable of doing it myself. The effort of making
myself presentable, applying makeup, doing my hair, even getting
dressed in anything more elaborate than pajamas, was too much. Even
my doctors came to the house since I was frequently too tired to go
to them.
“Step up, tree root,” Erik was
saying. I was so lost in self-pity that I didn’t comprehend his
words fast enough to react. The toe of my flip-flop caught on the
tree root, and I pitched forward.
“Can I please take this off now?” I grumbled as Erik
righted me.
“No.” Erik laughed, finding my
predicament entirely too funny.
Erik rambled on about his latest
mission, Henri, and a bunch of other stuff that I paid little
attention to. Determined to bulldozer through his mental
barricades, I focused all of my energy on that task. Unfortunately,
one thought kept playing over and over again in Erik’s mind: Talia,
get out of my head. Smartass.
After a walk that left me winded,
sweaty, and second-guessing the decision to wear flip-flops – I
thought my big toe might be bleeding – Erik stopped. He released my
hand and moved to stand behind me, resting his palms lightly on my
shoulders. I figured he was finally going to remove the blindfold,
but the next thing I knew his lips were on my neck, trailing kisses
along the nape and up behind my ear. Every kiss sent tingles
through my entire body and my stomach tightened.
“I love you,” he whispered when
his mouth was right next to my ear, his lips brushed the lobe as he
spoke. A shiver ran down my spine and suddenly I was glad for the
cardigan. Not that Gretchen knew I’d need the garment because
Erik’s touch had this type of effect on me, but still.
Erik’s hands moved down my arms
while his mouth moved across my shoulder. That was about the time I
reconsider my earlier stance on blindfolds. Being able to
concentrate solely on the feel of Erik’s skin on mine was
intoxicating, amplified by the fact that he still refused to open
his mind. I inhaled. The scent of