Page 3 of Tanglewood Magic (The Three Sisters 2)
His mouth worked, but no sound came out.
She left him to rummage in the storeroom. “Aha!” She returned with a jar labeled Pepper of the Valley. Fishing a dark orange pepper from under its lid, she diced it and added it to the brew, stirring the cauldron with six sharp strokes.
Rhys’s face was grim, and it occurred to her that it was a good thing she’d moved quickly because if the man hadn’t been shocked into inaction, she was sure he’d have kept her from touching his brew. Instantly, the color of the potion changed to a muddy orange and started to bubble. She seized the dropper from Rhys’s hand, drew up a dose of the new elixir, and administered it to the narwit.
For a few moments, nothing changed. Rhys’s scowl grew darker.
The narwit rocked, then scrambled to its feet, blinking and wiggling its nose. Circe grinned.
Rhys’s eyebrows climbed in increments to his hairline. He donned his enchanted glasses again and examined the narwit’s internal happenings. “Remarkable. Circe, you’ve done it!”
Circe flourished her hand and took a bow. “Glad I could help.”
He removed his glasses and locked eyes with her. Again, the intensity of his stare made her knees wobble, but this time she saw more in his expression. The corner of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Rhys never smiled. That twist of lip made her feel important. Vital. Like her heart had never beat before he’d gazed in her direction. She had to remember to breathe.
“You truly are a brilliant and gifted witch, Circe.”
“Th-thank you,” she stammered.
He stepped closer to her, until mere inches remained between them, and the slightly herbal scent of his skin filled her nose. She doubted he was the type to wear cologne and thought it must be his soap or the remnants of the herbs he gathered every morning.Ugh, he was so handsome. That curl that persistently teased his forehead no matter how many times he tucked the rest of his hair behind his ears drove her mad, and the deep blue of his eyes was worthy of drowning in.
“I’m very lucky to have you here,” he said softly, his attention drifting to her lips. “I meant what I said before about wanting you to stay. I need you here, no matter how many windows those bastards break.”
She allowed the intense connection between them to draw her forward another fraction of an inch. His lips were full, and he looked at her from under impossibly long lashes. He leaned forward. Circe’s heart thudded in her chest. Was he going to kiss her?
The front door chimed, and Rhys started as if waking from a dream. He blinked rapidly. “You should get that.”
“Oh, uh, of course.” She slid past him and hurried to the front desk, where she was surprised to find a man in a royal tunic. It was not unheard of for Darnuith’s soldiers to seek treatment there, but this man did not appear ill.
“Circe Tanglewood?” he asked her.
“Yes?”
He held out an ornate purple envelope with a red wax seal pressed with an insignia in the shape of the Tanglewood tree—her sister’s seal. She accepted the envelope from the soldier.
“What is this?” she asked.
“An invitation to a royal banquet. The queen sends her love.” He bowed and headed for the door.
“Wait!” Circe raised a hand and smiled when the soldier looked her way. “Please tell Medea I love her too, and I wouldn’t miss it.”
ChapterTwo
He’d almost kissed her. Rhys tipped his head back and groaned toward the ceiling of his laboratory. Of all the stupid things he could have done! Thank the Fates the door had chimed when it had, or he might be in a terrible mess. A kiss would have been a disaster.
He swept the narwit off the table and returned it to its cage, where it squeaked and ran in circles. Circe was the queen’s sister and a gifted employee. So talented that one day he might even make her his apprentice. He’d be a fool to enter into a romantic relationship with her. One false move and he could lose the best thing to happen to his apothecary in years, or worse, should his actions displease the queen, he could lose his head. And that didn’t even begin to encompass the blowback he’d get from the residents of Mistcraven for dating one of the three sisters. He’d already been pulled aside by more than one well-meaning friend to warn him about hiring her. Anything more and he’d never hear the end of it.
No, the last thing he should be doing was kissing Circe.
He straightened his lab coat and composed himself before striding to the front of his apothecary to see who’d come in. A man in a royal uniform was halfway out the door. “What was that all about?”
Circe stood at the counter holding a purple envelope with the royal seal. She frowned at the card within. “An invitation from my sister,” she said absently. “She’s throwing a royal dinner party.”
“A royal banquet?” He raised an eyebrow. “Seems like a joyous occasion. Why are you looking at it like you want to set it on fire?”
She smiled at him. That smile held the sun. For a moment, his brain blanked trying to process the beauty of it. Then he swallowed hard and busied himself straightening a box of healing crystals.
“It requires that I bring a guest.” A gusty sigh left her lungs. “I don’t want to turn Medea down. She’s been so lonely since she became queen. But I’m not sure I can do this.”
