Magnolia Dawn by Erica Spindler Page B

sense of sight, his others were heightened. He smelled the sweet flower of Anna’s perfume and the scent of her sweat. And he felt her presence—her heat, her energy, the quiet intensity that was Annabelle Ames.
    He’d never experienced a sensation such as that before, and he swore softly as his eyes began to adjust.
    â€œBlue’s trapped in my bedroom,” she murmured. “He’s afraid of the thunder. I have to get him.”
    â€œYou have candles?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’ll help you.”
    â€œI don’t think—”
    He reached out and caught her hand. “I’m not going to hurt you, Anna.”
    She met his eyes. “How do I know that?”
    â€œI guess you’re going to have to trust me.”
    â€œThat’s a big leap of faith you’re asking for.”
    Especially from someone who’s been burned so badly in the past. Rush saw that truth in her eyes. Anger at whoever had hurt her charged through him, and he took another step closer to her. “I’ve given you my word, Annabelle. I won’t hurt you.”
    Anna hesitated. Blue whined and scratched again, this time frantically. Outside, the storm intensified. Somewhere in the house a shutter came loose and began to slam against its window frame.
    Trust him? How could she trust him when just looking at him made her long to throw her doors wide and step fully into the storm? Anna caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Rush was a stranger. He made her uncomfortable and on edge. He brought forth memories she’d rather stayed locked away.
    And he made her feel, made her ache. He made her want to do things she’d been too uncertain to do before.
    And he made her afraid. Of failing again. Of proving to herself once and for all that she was less than a woman. Of feeling the way she had this afternoon in his arms.
    And of never feeling that way again.
    â€œAnna?”
    â€œThe candles are in the kitchen,” she muttered, her heart beating out of control. “I’ll show you.”
    She started for the kitchen; he followed. There, she took a dozen candles and holders from the pantry. He helped her light them, and she took great care that their fingers didn’t touch, even jerking away and burning her hand once.
    â€œI’ll get Blue,” she said, selecting a candle. “See if you can find the loose shutter.”
    She reached her bedroom in moments. As she opened the door, Blue lunged at her, almost toppling both her and the candle. She squatted beside him and petted him. His whole body quivered with fear.
    â€œPoor baby,” she murmured. “Whatever happened to make a big, brave dog like you so afraid of something so little bitty? You can’t live in Mississippi and be afraid of rain, Baby Blue.” She rubbed his chest and he whined, this time with pleasure. “It’s just not natural.”
    â€œAnna?” At the sound of Rush’s voice, Blue picked up his ears. “All’s secure down here. Do you need me to come up?”
    She glanced involuntarily at her bed, ghostly white in the darkness. She could imagine them on it, naked, writhing. Her hand began to shake, so badly she feared she would drop the candle.
    She squeezed her eyes shut. What was happening to her?
    â€œNo,” she managed, her voice high and breathless sounding. “I’m…coming down.”
    Blue beat her downstairs and by the time she stepped off the last step, the dog was wrapped around Rush’s legs like a long-lost lover.
    Rush stood to the right of the staircase, candle aloft to inspect a drawing hanging on the wall. Anna took a deep breath, grateful for the distraction.
    â€œMama did it,” she said, crossing to stand beside him.
    â€œIt’s you?”
    â€œYes, at eight.”
    He met her eyes, the expression in his strange. Or maybe it was the candlelight playing tricks. “Is that a music box you’re