unsure of what had scared her. Of course, he could compel her or physically touch her, but that probably wasn’t the best way to start this professional relationship with his new director. Her fear was in check, at least for now, and that’s all that mattered.
“Where should we go?” she asked.
“Anywhere. Lady’s choice,” he replied, adjusting the seat all the way back. He tilted the seat as well and gave himself some extra headroom.
“Starbucks?” She suggested.
Her voice pitched higher than he thought seemed normal for her, so he scanned her mental patterns. “You okay?” He watched as she took a deep breath and told him she just wanted another hit of early morning caffeine. Raymond continued to feel her fear as she started to drive.
Naturally, since there’s a Starbucks on every corner, they found one quickly. The place smelled like ground roast and cinnamon when they walked through the door. “I love their pecan mocha latte and cinnamon buns. What do you like?”
Raymond heard her inhale deeply and enjoy the aroma of the place. But as she finished her last sentence her heart rate had sped up, and her stance turned more stoic. He softly replied, “I enjoy drinking coffee. It's one of the few foods that do have a taste. You assumed a blood exclusive diet?”
“That’s what Hollywood and my nightmares would have me believe,” she barely managed to squeak out.
“Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He listened to her heart beats slow down. “You dream of vampires?”
A blush came to her cheeks, and he realized it was more than her twinkling emerald eyes that captured his attention. She looked absolutely beautiful, and so damn flushed at the moment. Her loose hair framed her blushed cheeks. He started to reach out to her. He wanted to brush the hair from her face when she smiled, but she turned away from him.
“No. Sorry. Bad joke. I’m a bit nervous.” She glanced at the menu board on the wall. “Nothing else has a taste?”
What was he doing? He nearly touched her face – in a very intimate way. Oh sure, he could justify touching her if it meant saving her from being hit by a car, or even offer first aid if she were wounded, but that wasn’t the case here. He cleared his throat. “Everything has a taste. Most foods just taste like paste. Coffee is good and so is alcohol. A few other specific things taste good to me. But that’s all.”
She placed her order and spoke specifically ordering low–fat cream, a half shot of hazelnut, and a whiff of cinnamon. She obviously had a favorite from their varied menu selections. She then turned to Raymond. “What would you like?” she asked.
“Make it two,” he said to the hostess. Raymond didn’t care overall what coffee he drank, as long as it was coffee.
“Do you miss eating?” she whispered.
Raymond thought little of food any more, but the question mentally pulled forth a wonderful childhood memory. “My mother made these great honey cakes for special occasions. My father harvested honey from a nearby beehive. I can still remember the taste of those warm cakes. I’ve forgotten what most other foods taste like. So I guess I don’t miss food all that much.”
He watched as she reached into her purse, obviously to pay. He quickly touched her hand. “I’ll pay, Alex.” He handed some money to the cashier.
Alex’s hand felt warm and soft. Damn. He told himself he wasn’t going to touch her. He mentally cursed himself for such little restraint. If he were honest with himself, he felt grateful for the opportunity. He just didn’t want to think about that meant right now.
“Thanks,” Alex said.
She glanced down at the hand he touched. Raymond held no body warmth and he knew his touch felt cold. She obviously noticed. He carefully accepted the change from the cashier. After years of not touching humans he didn’t want to add another one to the tally today.
The time was mid morning and the place ran in a reasonably quiet atmosphere.
“Where should we go?” she asked.
“Anywhere. Lady’s choice,” he replied, adjusting the seat all the way back. He tilted the seat as well and gave himself some extra headroom.
“Starbucks?” She suggested.
Her voice pitched higher than he thought seemed normal for her, so he scanned her mental patterns. “You okay?” He watched as she took a deep breath and told him she just wanted another hit of early morning caffeine. Raymond continued to feel her fear as she started to drive.
Naturally, since there’s a Starbucks on every corner, they found one quickly. The place smelled like ground roast and cinnamon when they walked through the door. “I love their pecan mocha latte and cinnamon buns. What do you like?”
Raymond heard her inhale deeply and enjoy the aroma of the place. But as she finished her last sentence her heart rate had sped up, and her stance turned more stoic. He softly replied, “I enjoy drinking coffee. It's one of the few foods that do have a taste. You assumed a blood exclusive diet?”
“That’s what Hollywood and my nightmares would have me believe,” she barely managed to squeak out.
“Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He listened to her heart beats slow down. “You dream of vampires?”
A blush came to her cheeks, and he realized it was more than her twinkling emerald eyes that captured his attention. She looked absolutely beautiful, and so damn flushed at the moment. Her loose hair framed her blushed cheeks. He started to reach out to her. He wanted to brush the hair from her face when she smiled, but she turned away from him.
“No. Sorry. Bad joke. I’m a bit nervous.” She glanced at the menu board on the wall. “Nothing else has a taste?”
What was he doing? He nearly touched her face – in a very intimate way. Oh sure, he could justify touching her if it meant saving her from being hit by a car, or even offer first aid if she were wounded, but that wasn’t the case here. He cleared his throat. “Everything has a taste. Most foods just taste like paste. Coffee is good and so is alcohol. A few other specific things taste good to me. But that’s all.”
She placed her order and spoke specifically ordering low–fat cream, a half shot of hazelnut, and a whiff of cinnamon. She obviously had a favorite from their varied menu selections. She then turned to Raymond. “What would you like?” she asked.
“Make it two,” he said to the hostess. Raymond didn’t care overall what coffee he drank, as long as it was coffee.
“Do you miss eating?” she whispered.
Raymond thought little of food any more, but the question mentally pulled forth a wonderful childhood memory. “My mother made these great honey cakes for special occasions. My father harvested honey from a nearby beehive. I can still remember the taste of those warm cakes. I’ve forgotten what most other foods taste like. So I guess I don’t miss food all that much.”
He watched as she reached into her purse, obviously to pay. He quickly touched her hand. “I’ll pay, Alex.” He handed some money to the cashier.
Alex’s hand felt warm and soft. Damn. He told himself he wasn’t going to touch her. He mentally cursed himself for such little restraint. If he were honest with himself, he felt grateful for the opportunity. He just didn’t want to think about that meant right now.
“Thanks,” Alex said.
She glanced down at the hand he touched. Raymond held no body warmth and he knew his touch felt cold. She obviously noticed. He carefully accepted the change from the cashier. After years of not touching humans he didn’t want to add another one to the tally today.
The time was mid morning and the place ran in a reasonably quiet atmosphere.
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