Once they were on the porch again, the rain pounding on the roof, he yanked her back against him, bending her over his arm as he took control of the kiss. She clung to his shoulders, twisting one hand in the sleeve of his shirt to hold on, trailing the other down the definition of muscle along his other arm.
The taste of him, the rain-washed scent of him filled her senses as he pivoted her and pinned her back against the door of the cabin, sheltering her from the sweeping rain at the same time kissing her until her knees melted.
She untangled her fingers from the knit sleeve and coasted her palm up his jaw, curving her hand around the back of his head, holding him to her, just in case he got the idea to move away.
A shiver ran through her, and he broke the kiss, his face hovering above hers, as far as she would release him.
“You’re cold,” he murmured.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, trying to pull him down to her again, but he resisted.
He released her long enough to reach down and open the door, letting it swing open behind her. Cold air rushed out, and this time she shivered in earnest.
“Let’s get you inside and warm you up,” he encouraged, a half-grin hitching up the corner of his mouth.
Oh. She liked the sound of that. She liked the sound of that a lot. She turned to follow him in, making sure to lock the door tightly behind them.
Twenty-Five
The Victorian was ablazewith light when they pulled up in front of it. At first, Erielle thought it was the way the sunlight was hitting the windows after the storm had passed, but no. As she got out of the truck, heart thudding, she saw that every light in the house was on. She looked back at Sam, who shrugged, but she could see his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel as he looked up at the house.
“I’ll go,” she said quickly.
“No. You said you don’t know exactly where they are, that it could be any of the pictures.”
“It’s only five places. I’ll be fine.”
But he was out of the truck already, closing the door a little more firmly than necessary. She noticed, as he rounded the front of the vehicle, he fingered the front pocket of his jeans, the protective pouch his mom had given him. Then he tugged it free and held it out to her, on his open palm.
She took his hand, stepped closer and folded his fingers around his offering, smiling up at him. “Thank you, but I’m okay. Gigi will watch over me. You keep it.” She stretched up on her toes to kiss his lips softly—oh, she liked the ease of doing that, something she’d craved for so long.
Millicent, apparently, did not. The front door slammed repeatedly, and from inside the house, she could hear a cacophony of other doors opening and closing.
“She’s learned a new trick,” Sam murmured, keeping Erielle’s hand in his as they marched up to the house, the sachet of herbs between them. “You think she knows we’ve figured out where the book is?”
“I don’t know,” Erielle said. She suspected that Millicent sensed the change in their relationship and did not approve.
She thought they might have trouble opening the door, but Sam caught it on one of its inward swings and pushed open. Maybe Millicent couldn’t slam all the doors and hold one closed at the same time.
Once they were inside, Sam turned to her. “Where do you want to start?”
“The workroom. There are four in there.”
She pivoted toward the library. The heavy oak door to the library slammed shut, and didn’t open again. Erielle jumped back, but she was not going to let this ghost chase her away. She gripped the handle and twisted, pushing hard at the same time, and was relieved to find she could open it. Sam squeezed through behind her and they hurried toward the passageway.
“Wait.” Sam stopped, looked around the room. “I don’t want to be trapped in there. We don’t know where the switch to open it from that side is.”
She understood now. He wanted to block the shelf from sliding shut. She joined him in the search, but they’d removed all the books, finally.
“The desk,” she said. “She shouldn’t be able to move that.”
In fact, the two of them barely could. But they managed to wedge it in the opening and climbed over it, into the hallway.
The workroom was surprisingly quiet, the banging of the doors muffled. But once again, the lightbulb popped off. This time, Sam was prepared. He flicked on a small flashlight and shone it on the pictures hanging on the wall.
“So you think it’s behind one of these?”
“I think my grandmother hid it behind the paintings so her…group—” She couldn’t say coven, not in relation to her grandmother. “Would find it. She left it as a clue.”
