Deep Waters

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Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
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had an ulterior motive.
    "Let's hear It," she snapped. "What do you want from me? If this has something to do with the lease negotiations, you're wasting your time."
    "I don't care about the lease arrangements. All I want from you is the chance to get to know you."
    She came to a sudden halt and swung around to face him. "I beg your pardon?"
    "You heard me." As if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if they shared a regular habit of walking along the bluffs in the evening, Elias reached out and took her hand. "My turn to ask you a question."

4

    The approaching storm turns the surface of the sea to steel and silver. Only danger reflects clearly from such a mirror.

    — "On the Way of Water," from the journal of Hayden Stone

    Charity instinctively tensed as Elias's powerful hand wrapped around her fingers. He was strong. Stronger than she had realized. But she still did not sense so much as a tiny frisson of the old claustrophobic sensation that had seized her during the days when she had dated Brett Loftus. And certainly nothing of the twinge of the fight-or-fiight response she had felt last month when Rick Swinton, Gwendolyn Pitt's assistant cult manager, had attempted to sweep her off her feet with his oily charm.
    At least she now knew for certain that she was not going to be stuck for the rest of her life with panic attacks every time a man touched her. What a relief.

    Euphoria shot through her. Cured at last. She felt a ridiculous grin curve her mouth.
    And then she became aware of an eerie thrill curling through her insides. The sensation was not one of sharp, terrifying anxiety, but it certainly did not have a calming effect.
    It took her a moment to recognize the devastating sweep of raw desire. She stopped grinning, caught her breath, and nearly stumbled when she realized exactly what it was that was affecting her senses. So this was how real sexual attraction felt.
    "Are you okay?" Elias asked as he steadied her.
    "Yes." Damn. She was actually breathless. "Yes, I'm fine. Tripped over a little stone. Hard to see clearly at this time of night. It'll be full dark soon."
    He gave her an odd look but said nothing.
    She'd had one or two pleasant, sincere relationships over the years, no more than a couple because there had never been any time. Her life had not been her own since the day the avalanche had killed her mother and stepfather. Saving Truitt for the next generation had been her only focus. Then she had developed that stupid phobia to poor Brett.
    What with one thing and another, she had never experienced anything even remotely akin to this wild, fluttering excitement.
    Please don't let this be another kind of precursor to an anxiety attack, she thought. Please. Not with this man. No more dumb phobias. This feels too good.
    What shook her was the sense of intimacy involved. It was as if Elias was allowing her to sample some of his own personal energy. She wondered if he was get ting a few tingles from her. Then she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
    Different, she decided after due consideration. Very different. About as out-of-the-ordinary, say, as the arrival of a fleet of spaceships carrying aliens from outer space.
    "All right, it's your turn," she said briskly. "What's your question?"
    "Hayden mentioned once that when you opened your bookshop a year ago, you single-handedly revived the rest of the businesses on Crazy Otis Landing."
    Charity made a face. "That's a gross exaggeration. Tourism has been gradually increasing here in the cove for a couple of years. We've been discovered in a small way, and the pier is a natural draw. All that was necessary was to provide a reason for visitors and locals to stop. A bookstore does that nicely."
    "He also told me that under your influence, the other shopkeepers have become more businesslike this past year. He said they come to you for advice. He credited you with convincing Bea to install an espresso machine, for example."
    "I had the

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