Rise of the Wadjet Witch - By Juliet C. Obodo Page 0,34

and placed it on the base of his throat.

He began to count. “One, two, three. One, two, three.”

She felt his pulse.

“One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.” He repeated.

“They say that if two people are meant to be together, their hearts will beat in sync,” he whispered.

“One, two, three.” Their beats were in sync. This was too much, too soon. Their feelings shouldn’t be so strong; they barely knew each other. She dropped her hand from his throat and tried to move away from him.

He didn’t let her get too far. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and gently forced her to look directly into his eyes. She felt weak, but relaxed against him. Her eyelids fluttered closed as he bent down to kiss her.

The night’s mystery was solved—he tasted like strawberries. He tasted better than strawberries, and better than anything she’d ever tasted. He pulled her on top of him. His lips were soft but his body was hard underneath her, lean and muscular. She was getting warm. The heat from his lips spread throughout her body. She began to perspire. Gross. She didn’t want him to feel her sweating. She broke the kiss and turned her head, but he continued to kiss her neck lightly down the side. She tried to get up, but she was just too hot. She was burning up. She looked down at Lawrence. Her vision was suddenly blinded by a bright, white light.

Chapter 12

Memphis woke up alone in her bed with her head pounding. Memories from last night rushed back into her mind. Did she and Lawrence—? She looked under the sheets and found that she was fully clothed. Nothing had happened. Memphis ignored her disappointment; she must have passed out and he tucked her in. She blushed at the thought of him carrying her to bed. Her cheeks became hotter when she thought about what they almost did. He was a colleague. What a terrible idea.

She looked at the clock and realized that she was almost late for her appointment with Virgil. She leapt out of bed and quickly dressed.

She met Virgil at the coffee shop creatively named Coffee Shop. He was already seated at a booth when she arrived ten minutes earlier than their scheduled meeting. Something in her chart must have caused his haste. He sat toward the back of the restaurant and faced the entrance. His head was well above the booth; he was quite tall. He confirmed her observation when he got up from the booth to greet her; he was well over six feet. He had a smooth complexion, and his deep blue eyes smiled at her from behind his glasses.

“Memphis, it’s so lovely to meet you.” He had a slight accent. She couldn’t remember whether she’d noticed it when he was on air.

“Hi.” She was surprised that he knew who she was.

They sat down. “It’s great to meet you, too. I try to watch your show whenever I’m home. How long has it been in production? It’s the best one airing on the local channel.”

He gave her a strange smile before thanking her for the compliment. “I haven’t been on long; it’s been almost three months now. I actually just moved here from Paris.”

“Oh really? For work?”

“No, actually, for a personal project.”

Memphis knew to stop asking questions when someone dropped the P word. She pulled out a folder that held her chart and placed it on the table; she’d brought it just in case he wanted to examine the original.

“I was so worried about our meeting this morning. I spent the night wondering about what you could have possibly seen in my chart.” She said though she’d actually slept without waking and hadn’t even thought about Virgil until she looked at her clock.

He leaned forward. “Memphis, what do you know about your family?”

“Nothing, really. As I stated in my e-mail to you, I was raised in foster care from the age of six.”

“Yes, yes. Do you recall when I told you about the houses that show psychic ability?”

“Do you mean did I watch that episode of your show?”

He was about to say something, but quickly changed his mind. “Yes, that’s right. On my show.”

“Were you running a marathon this past week? It seemed like it was always on whenever I turned on the television.”

“Not sure. The episodes are prerecorded; it’s up to the network and the viewers when they actually air.”

“That makes sense. I guess your ratings have been high.”

He