Sentinel: A Light Mage Wars Novella (The Light Mage Wars) by Nancy Northcott

read at close range. But he didn't need magic to read her obvious emotional withdrawal.
    He blew out a n audible breath. "Sorry. Beautiful day, gorgeous woman, and a walk in the woods. It's a recipe for libido, but I didn't ask you out here for that."
    " I know." When she cocked her head, that sexy half-smile quirked her mouth. "Considering all that, I'll just thank you for the compliment, and we can move on."
    Moving on. Great idea. Not as great as the idea he wasn't pursuing, but a smart guy seized his reprieve and ran with it. Yet the light grip of her slim, strong fingers on his elbow seemed to echo through his body.
    " You said you began weaving with one of those potholder kits," he said as they strolled down the path. "Why? What drew you to that?"
    He 'd emailed her that question, but he was desperate for any topic that would divert the tiny idiot brain in his jeans from its doomed preoccupation.
    " I wanted to make something. Mom sculpts, as you know, and she's not a bad painter. I wanted to create with colors."
    Her brother was reportedly a talented painter, too. Had she trained herself never to mention that?
    " Why not paint, like your mom?" he asked, and then realized. "Ah. You can't run your hand over wet paint the way you can over the threads on your loom."
    " Exactly."
    She beamed at him, and he had the feeling he 'd passed some sort of hurdle.
    " I learned to use the potholder frame pretty quickly, but I wanted more choices of colors and patterns. My folks got me a small loom, and we went from there."
    " Well, however you started, you're a genius now. You're brilliant, Caro."
    " Thank you," she said quietly.
    A rush of color suffused her cheeks, and he clenched his fist against the urge to caress that swath of bright pink. Especially when he sensed her doubt.
    " I mean it," he insisted. "Surely you know how good you are."
    Caro shrugged. "I like what I do. That doesn't mean it's good."
    " All the critics agree it is, even if one or two demonstrated a certain lack of perception."
    " Lack of perception." She smiled. "I like it."
    " Well, I do fancy myself a writer," he said lightly.
    " According to my dad, you're a very good one. How did you get started on that?"
    " Made up stories about characters in books I'd read. I guess you'd call it fan fiction, though I never showed it to anyone. Then one day, a librarian found some of my stuff on a desk. She told me she thought it had promise."
    Trusting that Caro would feel the vibe of his smile even though she couldn 't see it, he added, "Besides, I like being boss of my own small universe."
    " Who wouldn't?" She bumped her shoulder companionably into his. "So what kind of trouble was Max Grant in this morning, and did you get him out?"
    " He'd followed a beautiful woman into a deathtrap. The Shade's goons–do you know who The Shade is?"
    When she nodded, he continued, "Anyway, the goons have Max tied up in the wine cellar of a Swiss chalet, planning to sell him to a jihadist group in Pakistan. Or maybe Chechnya. I haven't decided."
    " Thinking with the wrong brain, was he?" she teased.
    Rick grinned and carefully returned the shoulder bump. "You could say. Though Max would say he had to follow the woman because she was his best lead to The Shade."
    " Can he have something up his sleeve? Or somewhere else he can reach?"
    " He could, but I did that in the last book."
    They walked along in silence. Caro didn't seem to mind his rejection of her idea. He could almost feel her thinking, trying to find a solution.
    Paying him back, he realized abruptly.
    Damn it, he didn 't want payback. He wanted her to trust him so he could get his story. Clear his dad. More–worse–he simply wanted her to like him. Crap .
    " What about a new character?" Caro suggested. "Someone he knows and maybe isn't counting on?"
    The back of Rick 's brain went click . Slowly, he nodded. "I could work with that. It's worth a try."
    " Glad I could help." She squeezed his elbow again, and the contact