“And where did you grow up?”
Quasar loved her smell. Why did her scent have such sexy undertones? “Los Angeles.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
And he wouldn’t want it any other way. Instead of telling her that, he said, “Yes, I am.”
Wanting to shift the focus from him back to her, he said, “So tell me some more about you, Randi.”
She laughed and the sound fired his blood. “I would bore you.”
“I doubt that. Try me.”
* * *
TRY ME.
Randi didn’t want to think of all the ways she could try him, and they were ways she’d never thought of until now. She never considered herself an overly sexual being, even when she and Larry had been together. But the man sitting across from her looked so ridiculously sexy, it was hard not to fantasize a little. Um, maybe a lot.
His chestnut complexion, aquiline nose, sharp cheekbones and strong chin were what female fantasies were made of. Then there were his brown bedroom eyes and chiseled jaw that made him appear too handsome to be real. The straight texture of his dark hair that stopped at his shoulders made her curious about his ethnicity. Mexican? Italian? Or other? His mouth was holding her senses captive, namely the shape of his lips. They were the kind of lips a woman would want to kiss and lick until she was sexually silly. Pretty much how she was feeling now.
And when he’d stood, he appeared to be around six feet two or three inches of solid muscle, a lean, well-built physique with great broad shoulders. She couldn’t help but appreciate a body that was so powerfully male. And why did his scent, a masculine blend of soap, aftershave and cologne, travel along her nerve endings? What she found so mind-boggling was the fact that the man sitting across from her, playing havoc on her body from top to bottom, was meant for her.
“I’ll tell you what,” she decided to say. “If I tell you a little about me, then you have to tell me things about you.” This meeting between them was important and would establish the framework for the rest of their lives. Of course there was no way for him to know that.
He shrugged, smiling over at her. “With your psychic abilities, I’d think there’s not much about me you wouldn’t know already.”
Searching his eyes, she considered his words and knew she needed to nip that assumption in the bud. “You’re not showing up on my mental radar,” she said truthfully. “I don’t have the ability to read every single human being.”
“Then how did you know I was an ex-con?”
She tilted her head. “I didn’t until you mentioned it. I had no idea.”
He held her gaze as if trying to divine the veracity of what she’d said. “Then why didn’t you react when I told you?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “How was I supposed to react? Did you expect me to run out of here hollering and screaming?”
After huffing out a short laugh, he shook his head. “Nothing that drastic, but experience has taught me to expect some sort of reaction.”
Randi wondered what kind of response he was used to getting. Was it similar to the one she got whenever it was revealed she had psychic powers? She decided to explain a few things to him. “My father is a defense attorney, probably one of the best...at least I think so. And the one thing he’s instilled in me is the belief that not all people in jail are there because they are guilty. Not saying whether you were guilty or not. All I know is that you’re sitting here, which probably means you served your time.”
“I did. And that’s good enough for you?”
“Yes, Quasar. That’s good enough for me.” When you want to tell me more about that time in your life, you will, she thought to herself. When he didn’t say anything but continued to look at her, she said, “I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a lawyer.”
“You did?”
“Yes. From the time I found out what he did for a living. I was so proud of him. That wasn’t in someone’s plans for me. But in all fairness to my gift, which I am now very proud to have, I learned early on that it’s meant to help others more than to help myself, which is why I probably can’t read you. I’m meant to find out some things on my own.”
She’d discovered this when Georgie betrayed her and Larry broke things off with her. She’d felt with her paranormal abilities that she, of all people, should have known Georgie couldn’t be trusted and Larry would end up being a jerk.
“You said that now you are proud of your gift. Does that mean that hasn’t always been the case?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding her head. “What fifteen-year-old wants something like that dumped on her? The realization that she has psychic powers? To be considered a freak of nature?”
She forced to the back of her mind Larry’s cruel words to her that day. She figured if Larry saw her that way then others would, as well. “I knew my great-grandmother was psychic as well as her mother, but not in a million years did I think the gift would be passed on to me.”
“How did you come to terms with it?”
Randi immediately recalled that year spent on Glendale Shores. That had certainly helped. But more important had been her relatives. She decided to credit the latter. “My family’s love and support.”
“Then you should consider yourself fortunate to have such a wonderful family.”
At that moment, the waitress returned with her tea and Quasar’s cup of coffee. That was good timing since it gave Randi a chance to dwell on what he’d just said. His words led her to believe that his family was anything but wonderful, not even close.
A part of her wished she didn’t have a mental block where he was concerned. But then, maybe it was for the best. It was up to her to get to know Quasar Patterson and break down any barriers he erected. She had a feeling that doing so wouldn’t be an easy task. He had invited her to breakfast under the misconception that whatever was drawing him to her was purely sexual. Eventually he would discover that wasn’t totally true.
“You know what I think?” he asked.
She met his gaze. “No, what do you think?”
“I think with your proven track record as a psychic assisting law enforcement, especially with the Erickson case, anyone who doesn’t appreciate your gift would be crazy. What you’re doing is pretty awesome.”
A smile touched the corners of her lips. Randi didn’t say anything, but she appreciated his compliment. There was no reason to tell him that although she did have a proven track record, some of her cases weighed her down. She often dealt with the struggles of not having every single case laid out for her, like Erickson’s death. She hadn’t seen it coming. And then there was Levan Shaw, the one who got away. “Thanks.”
“I spoke the truth, Randi,” he said softly.
And what was so utterly amazing was that deep down, she knew he had. He was definitely nothing like the last guy she’d gone out with, about six months ago. The one who thought a date with her was a sure win at lotto. Colin Kennesaw had spent the majority of his time during dinner trying to get her to give him the winning numbers for Powerball.
“What about your mother? Does she work outside the home?”
She positioned her mind to return to their conversation. “Yes. She’s an architect and has her own firm in downtown Richmond. She loves what she does and designed the house my parents live in.” Randi rook a sip of her tea before asking, “What about your mother? Does she work outside the home?”
She noted the drooping of his shoulders when he said, “My mom passed away when I was fourteen.”