The Medium

He watched my mouth as I chewed and my throat as I swallowed as if he'd never seen someone eating before. If it had been anyone else staring at me with such curious intensity I would have felt self-conscious, but not with Jacob. He had a way of making me feel special, not strange.

He reached out to my throat but pulled back without touching me. "May I?" he asked. I nodded. His fingertips lightly grazed down my throat and, as I swallowed, he gently pressed his palm against my skin. Tingles raced across my body as he caressed my throat with his thumb, his hooded eyes riveted to the spot.

"So beautiful," he whispered.

His words startled me. He'd said I was beautiful to Aunt Catherine but part of me assumed that was in defiance and he hadn't really meant it. But here he was using that word to describe me again, and this time he wasn't trying to convince anyone.

I swallowed once more because a lump seemed to have formed in my throat. The movement made him smile, but he pulled away nevertheless. "I'm sorry. That must have been disconcerting."

"Not at all."

"I like to watch you eat."

I'm sure there was a witty response to that if only I thought about it, but my mind wasn't working properly. It seemed to be filled with a fuzziness that made thinking slow. "I like it when you watch me," I said in a voice that sounded breathy and nothing like my own.

"You shouldn't," he said then added, "You shouldn't like me at all." He stood and removed himself to my dressing table stool where he stretched out his long legs, crossed his ankles and crossed his arms over his chest. He regarded me as if I'd been a threat and he was safer because he was further away from me.

I was too confused by his behavior to think clearly. "I'll like who I want to like," I said lamely. "Now stop sounding like my sister and, and..." I waved my hand. There really was nothing in my head worth saying.

He raised an eyebrow. "Your sister?" He grunted. "I see she thinks as I do. That would explain why you're in bed so early."

What in the world was he talking about? "Stop speaking in riddles. You and she are not alike at all, in thoughts or otherwise. You would not have confined me to my room after I got a little wet."

That brow forked again. "Wouldn't I? And what do you mean, 'got a little wet'? I told you to take an umbrella with you."