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

overheard Jerkwad Jerald say, but he couldn't hold back a snort. "I don't feel sorry for you. I have no reason to."
    #
    Rick's voice rang with surprise that had Caro blinking behind her shades.
    Before she could muster a reply, he touched her arm gently . "I'm guessing you grew up in Wesleyan or Idle Hour, some great neighborhood full of beautiful houses, with successful, loving parents who, based on what I saw at the gallery, either have a strong marriage or deserve acting awards. Good schools, art lessons, nice clothes, fun vacations. Yeah, you have impaired vision, but everybody's got some problem. On the overall ledger, you got a boatload more pluses than minuses."
    " I know that," she said. "My parents made certain we–I–knew that."
    " I'm sure you do." Again he touched her elbow gently. "But you asked. So the answer is definitely no, I don't feel sorry for you."
    " Good. I wouldn't want you to, but I'm used to people seeing the white cane and not looking any farther."
    His faint image in her mind nodded. Before he could change the subject, Caro asked, "Where did you grow up, Rick?"
    Now his emotional walls shot up. Under her fingers, his arm tensed. Quietly, he said, "Birmingham. Alabama. It's not something I talk about a lot."
    Caro could read a n emotional no trespassing sign as well as the next person, but those rising walls made her curious. What had his childhood been like, to make him shield it so?
    Well, it wasn 't really her business. They had no reason to see each other after her demonstration two days from now. Yet her curiosity about his childhood reminded her she had no idea what he looked like. And she wanted to know that. Very much wanted it.
    " Are you ready to walk on?" he asked.
    " Almost." Putting herself out there was tough. This might be her only chance, though. "Rick, we've spent a good bit of time together, but I don't know what you look like. May I touch your face?"
    Surprise leaked through his barriers. After a moment, cautiously, he said, "Okay."
    He turned to her. Caro slid her hands up his arms–muscular, solid arms covered by blue Oxford cloth, the sleeves rolled up on his forearms–across his broad, straight shoulders and then up the sides of his neck. Rick stood like a statue, but his vibe in the magic subtly warmed. Her breath hitched.
    Cupping his cheeks in her palms, she brushed rough stubble. Like Will, Rick must see shaving as optional.
    She longed to caress his face , but that would send a message she wasn't sure she wanted to.
    Instead, Caro made her fingers keep moving, examining his features and building a map in her mind. Golden-brown beard shadow on lean, tanned cheeks. Firm jaw. Wide brow under short bangs the pale brown of vanilla caramel laced with gold. At his temples, his hair was thick. Soft.
    Her fingers wanted to explore, even caress, but that was too personal, and certainly not smart. "How long is your hair?" she asked, feeling slightly breathless.
    " Check for yourself."
    Low and warm, that aged whiskey voice made her fidgety, even eager. Caro slid her hands into his hair. It brushed the tops of his ears on the sides and touched his collar in back.
    A tiny shiver rippled through his frame. He set his hands at her waist.
    Caro 's heart beat faster. Touching him felt right, no matter how stupid her common sense screamed that this was.
     
    Gently, she traced his eyebrows–darker brown and level above a straight nose. His mouth was wide and generous, the skin of his lips warm and soft.
    How would that mouth feel on her skin?
    Way too soon to go there. If ever.
    She forced her hands down, but they somehow came to rest on his shoulders rather than dropping to her sides. Suddenly, she realized he'd drawn her against him.
    The hard bulge at his crotch pressed into her mound, generating quivers of heat. Caro swallowed a moan.
    " If you want to step back," he began in a husky voice.
    " No," she whispered, sliding her hand up to cup his nape.
    " Thank God," he muttered, and