The Sorceress by Allison Hobbs

proximity, her mind would be zooming; trying to come up with a flirty line. But all she could do was emit tiny whimpers.
    â€œObviously, you’re not okay. Can you identify the assailant, ma’am?”
    â€œI’m fine,” she protested again, her pitch rising. She lowered her tone. “There wasn’t any assailant. Honestly.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Really. Nobody assaulted me. I’m not hurt. I…I just have something on my mind.”
    The police officer stared at Jen’s face, squinting as if trying to get a clearer view of her soul. She squirmed under his intense and penetrating gaze. It seemed as if he was trying to get to the truth of the matter by staring into her eyes. Feeling exposed and self-conscious, Jen dropped her gaze.
    â€œGot your cell on you?” he asked.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œYour cell phone.”
    â€œOh!” She patted the low-hanging pocket of her hoodie. “Yeah. Why?”
    â€œI want you to take my number in your phone…in case youdecide you want to talk. Unofficially, of course.” He pulled out his cell.
    She held up her mud-stained palms and shrugged.
    â€œDon’t want you to get your phone all muddy, so I’ll call you. Make sure you lock my number in.”
    Lock his number in? Was hot cop hitting on her while she was mud-covered, disheveled, stammering and stuttering, and obviously teetering on the brink of insanity?
    What did he find appealing?
Absolutely nothing!
she answered herself. She could tell by his kind expression that he thought she’d been victimized and was disoriented and rambling. He was using some of his police training to smooth talk her into blowing the whistle on the perpetrator.
    If she told Hot Cop what she was really running from, he’d probably drop her off at the closest loony bin. “Um, I don’t think it’s a good—”
    He stared at Jen. “You’re running, you’re crying, and you look like you’ve been dragged through mud. It’s my job to pursue and apprehend suspects. If you give me a description…or tell me what he was wearing…”
    Jen shook her head. “There’s nothing to tell.”
    â€œYou don’t have to be afraid, ma’am. Just tell me what happened?” His voice was satin. But Jen was no fool. Well, not that big of a fool to fall for his smooth talking.
    â€œNothing happened. I stumbled on something and fell.”
    Squinting, he nodded. “I patrol this area every day. Never saw you before. Are you new around here?”
    â€œSort of.”
    He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to provide more details. She merely nodded. He ran his eyes over her hoodie. “You go to Temple?” he asked.
    â€œUh. Used to.”
    â€œOh, so you sort of live around here and you used to go to Temple?”
    Jen sighed. Oh, Lord, why was this man trying to get all up in her business like this? Catherine would have a freakin’ fit if she thought Jen was discussing any aspect of her private affairs with an outsider—a law enforcement agent, in particular.
    â€œYeah, I’m sort of new in this neighborhood. I work for a family here in Chestnut Hill.” She skipped over the part about Temple. It was a personal sore spot.
    â€œDoing what?” he asked with a charming smile.
    Charming smile or not, his question made her squirm. “You sure are nosey. I mean…I’m starting to feel like this is an interrogation or something?”
    â€œNo, I’m not interrogating you. Is that how I’m coming across?” His lips spread into a lazy, non-threatening smile.
    â€œThat’s how it seems. And I shouldn’t have to respond to anything because I didn’t call for help. You came from out of nowhere and stopped me.”
    Unperturbed, he laughed. “It’s my job to provide aid to a citizen who seems to be in distress. But now that I know