Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

less?”
    She opened her mouth and then abruptly closed it. “I don’t want anyone on my boat and that includes you. You’d touch my things.”
    “I’ll learn not to.”
    Her frown deepened and she narrowed her eyes at him. “You will not.
    You’ll do whatever you want to do. You’re one of those men.”
    “If I don’t know what kind of a man I am, how could you know?”
    84

    “Because so far, you’ve been on my boat, in my house, touched my things, slept in my bed, and you’re probably going to want food. You’re demanding.”
    Laughter spilled over, startling him. A real laugh. Out loud. He sounded rusty, but it didn’t matter. He was shocked at the sound, at the feeling, at the freedom he felt with her to laugh. “I suppose you’re right about that.”
    She stared into his gaze, her eyes so black, there in the night with the moon hidden behind the clouds, that she appeared mysterious and elusive, like the storm passing overhead.
    “You’re damned beautiful,” he said, before he could stop himself. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”
    A slow smile curved her mouth. He realized, like him, she didn’t smile often. “How would you know? You can’t remember who you’ve met and who you haven’t. But in any case, thanks. No one ever says things like that to me.”
    A shadow crossed her face and he remembered the fiancé, the man who had died in a fire. “Tell me about him. His name. What he did. How you met him.” How he died and why you’re so afraid you started the fires.
    She blinked, looked startled. “I heard that. What you were thinking.
    You are telepathic. And you’ve made me weird, just like you. Okay . . .
    maybe I was already a little weird, but now I’m way worse than I already was. Am I going to hear what everyone’s thinking? Can you hear my thoughts?”
    “You aren’t projecting them to me. And that was an accident. I didn’t mean to have you hear that, but I honestly am interested.”
    Rikki laid her head back on her pillow and stared up at the ceiling, her mouth set in stubborn lines. The sound of the rain hitting the roof and windows seemed to drain the tension from her. He could tell she was listening to it, and while she listened, her fingers began to react, tapping against her leg. She didn’t seem to notice, caught in the spell of the rain falling.
    Lev remained silent, realizing this was a part of Rikki’s nature. Certain things—especially anything to do with water, he supposed—took her outside herself, and she focused completely on whatever captured her attention, tuning out everything else around her, tuning out him. His first thought was to bring her attention back to him, but before he could speak, her hand went up and she began to weave patterns in the air, just as he had done when directing healing energy, although her designs were more like those of a conductor with a large orchestra.
    85

    At once he detected a difference in the pattern of the rain. The beat changed and then the resonance, the sound, depending on where each drop landed and how fast or hard. He found himself holding his breath. Her control and power were extraordinary, and she didn’t seem to notice she was directing the rain. His brain computed her patterns, recognized and spit out the data for him. She was drawing the layout of her farm in the air and directing the heaviest parts of the storm where she wanted it.
    The rain over the grapevines was soft and gentle like the sounds of flutes and clarinets. The rain in the trees and along the creek banks where the ferns grew was much more dramatic. It pounded down to saturate the area and feed the voracious redwoods, the other evergreens and the flora growing in the forest throughout the farm. The garden was treated with a melody of patterns spread out over the various vegetables and herbs, in a symphony of violins and other instruments.
    Rikki was so deep into her concentration and focus—obviously completely forgetting him, her surroundings and everything else—that he began to pick up images from her mind. Entire sections of the garden were dedicated to pharmaceutical plants, to plants for making various dyes, to all sorts of flowers, to vegetables of all kinds, and there was another section for herbs. There was an olive grove and an orchard with apples. It was amazing how clear the images in her head were—with exact coordinates, like a map.
    Just as the map in his head was laid out in grids, so was hers.
    He closed his