How Deep The Roots Go ( Book One)

Chapter 31

"I am going there tomorrow," Temperance announced, struggling to maintain her anger about the vandalism.

"Well, I cannot stop you," Gaige said, and then continued. "But until we collect what we need to, I am not sure if you'll be able to mosey around as you'd like. There is police tape everywhere."

"Gaige, it's vandalism, not a murder," Violet rounded in a voice that implied he didn't know what he was talking about.

"Exactly," Temperance offered, suddenly aware that she was carrying out a conversation about a piece of her life in front of a stranger.

"How about we take a breather and go have a bite," Roman suggested, his eyes now locked onto Temperance's frame.

"Oh, that would be nice. I am hungry," Violet agreed happily, placing her hand on her belly.

"You don't have to ask me twice," Gaige added, taking Violets arm again and turning to head back to the event.

"Temperance, I know you're hungry, so let's go get our monies worth," Violet encouraged, then began walking alongside Gaige as he took the lead.

Roman and Temperance were again alone. Both, quietly speaking volumes within their own thoughts.

His jaw was clinching again, but still Roman continued to devour her with his dark eyes, causing Temperance to lift her chin, challenging...

"Well, everyone has to eat," she announced, her voice light, filled with just a hair of restraint. "Shall we?"

She started to walk, but he grabbed her arm again, pulling her back to him. She stiffened immediately and he cringed, regretting being so bold with her. They were facing one another, their bodies aligned so closely that he could see her heart beat wildly within her chest. He could even hear its rhythm pounding in his own ears.

Immediately he dropped his hand, as if singed by the paleness of her cool skin. But still, she remained, unmoving and anticipating... She didn't know what was calling to her ...she had no idea, but the draw was there, the hidden hunger of something that neither wanted to acknowledge. It sung beautifully within the refuge of their souls, that neither could move.

He inhaled the scent of her deeply then, the tendrils of her hair dancing like wild fireflies on his face. Temperance was like stone, her body still pressed to his, as if they were a couple in a romantic embrace. She was void of a rebuttal or an inkling of when she would or could move her feet again.

"I'd like to escort you properly," he whispered into her ear, lingering there for moments. His voice no longer carried hardness, but rather, seemed choked and wounded.

Her head arched back, and her eyes softened then; the yellow and gold colors seeming to take burst into a softened glow.

"Okay," her voice now sounding entirely composed, allowing him to take her arm and walk back toward the plantation house. They did so quietly, which was odd, but it was good for her, as she felt quite uncomfortable about what occurred between them and all that he had spoken to her.

The four of them found a table that was near the fireplace of the parlor. The room was crowded, with several couples and dinner parties dining and conversing. All the noise seemed to collide with one another, making it impossible to make out what everyone was saying. They all had walked to the buffet, filling their plates with traditional southern foods. Temperance loaded up, as her belly was protesting at the lack of nourishment all day. Roman looked at her plate, raising his brow, surprised that she could eat that much with such a slender frame.

"I'm hungry," Temperance uttered, noticing the assessment of her plate of food. She walked back toward the table and then sat down across from Violet. The music was still playing; a rich jazz song drifted on the air, causing Temperance to tap her foot in rhythm under the table.