IK3 by t

said and pulled out
    her notepad and pen.
    “You won’t need those.”
    “Every reporter needs these.”
    “Miss Whitney,” Gavin said in a tone one used for inattentive children. “I
    believe I told you we are not here for a story. Now come.”
    Like she wouldn’t like to come. But Gavin was already walking away. Geez.
    How could a man who was so hot-looking have such a cool demeanor? If all
    Englishmen showed this little interest in women how in the world had Britain
    ever populated itself?
    But then, Chloe told herself as she followed him, maybe it was just her he
    wasn’t interested in. After all, they were here to spy on the Sisterhood Circle
    because Morgan was a part of it. Although, of course, Gavin didn’t admit
    that. Oh, no. He had said he wanted more information on the group that
    Sara Kincaid had belonged to and Chloe had looked up the archives on
    condition that she could accompany him. “Ouch!” she said as she tripped on
    a tree root in the rutted path.
    “Shhh!” Gavin turned around. “We don’t want them to know we’re here!” He
    looked down at her sandals. “You should have worn sensible shoes, Miss
    Whitney.”
    Sensible shoes. She didn’t own any. Sensible was not an adjective she ever
    used for anything. “B-o-r-i-n-g,” she said.
    Gavin blew out a breath and took her arm as they proceeded. “I just don’t
    want you tripping.”
    Well, okay. She didn’t mind if he wanted to play knight-in-shining-armor.
    Not at all. His hand was firm and comforting, although she was surprised to
    realize he had calluses on his palms. That didn’t fit with the Armani suits he
    favored or the casually stylish clothes he wore. Even tonight, his black
    turtleneck was cashmere, the denim jeans high-end. Now if she could just
    convince him to take them off—
    “Here’s a good spot,” Gavin said and gestured to a place behind some low
    rocks not too far from the shore. It didn’t look all that comfortable to her,
    but he’d already crouched down, his back to her. So much for romantic
    inclinations. With a sigh, she sank down beside him.
    “What is it that you think you’ll see tonight?” she asked. “Witches dancing
    naked under the moon?”
    “Shhh!” he said again. “People are coming!”
    Chloe turned to follow his gaze. Several women emerged from another
    group of trees and she wondered how they’d gotten there. Even though this
    was a popular boating and fishing lake, the area they were in was pretty
    desolated, given that the slough was pretty shallow. Probably a perfect place
    for teenagers to make-out on the weekends—if that was a term they still
    used these days. It would certainly do for her, if Gavin would just—
    Chloe shook her head. Gavin had a one-track mind, it seemed, and it wasn’t
    centered on her. She focused on the women. They were all dressed in long,
    flowing robes that looked light blue although it was hard to tell in the
    moonlight. Each was holding a round object. She spotted Morgan’s auburn
    hair. Another woman, dressed in green with flowing platinum hair
    approached from an area near them. Chloe glanced backwards. Where had
    that woman parked?
    She watched as they gathered in a circle. The round objects turned out to be
    candles as each was lit and the women held them high and began to chant
    as they moved clockwise. The green-robed woman stood in the middle of the
    circle and appeared to be its leader. The chanting changed, turned more into
    a droning sound, and then became very melodious as they began a
    harmonious litany, moving in graceful, fluid movements with their music.
    “It’s pretty,” she whispered.
    “Shhh!”
    Well, geez. Gavin didn’t have to treat her like some nit-wit child. It wasn’t
    like those women could hear her or something. She turned her attention
    back to the ritual which seemed to be concluding as the circle stopped and
    then walked counter-clockwise one time.
    “Widdershins,” Gavin said below his breath.
    “What?”