Authors: Deborah Cooke
Even though it was close.
It was
not
his problem.
Lorenzo was in the act of donning his top hat when the music swelled. One pair of curtains swept back and the other curtain rose skyward.
Right on cue.
Perfect.
The audience stared at him in expectant awe. Lorenzo had a moment to think that everything would be just fine.
Then he raised his hand in a welcoming gesture, and the light of his own firestorm sparked from his fingertips.
Lorenzo was astounded.
His firestorm launched an arc of fire that illuminated the space between him and a woman in the front row. She was lit suddenly with radiant golden light.
The audience gasped.
Lorenzo wanted to swear.
The woman had been sitting with her arms folded across her chest, reluctant to be impressed. Her skepticism would have made his eye skip over her under other circumstances. The blonde beside her was more typical of the women Lorenzo took as lovers.
But the bright glimmer of the spark startled her.
And it compelled Lorenzo to look. Her bones were good. She could have been attractive if she'd chosen to do anything other than tug her hair back into a sloppy ponytail. She wore no makeup and was
dressed in jeans, a cotton shirt, and hideous red cowboy boots.
Lorenzo couldn't stand cowboy boots.
Even on cowboys.
Women certainly shouldn't dress like cowboys, not if they wanted to show their glory to advantage. Women should wear skirts and high heels, lacy little bits of nothing, and lipstick. They had serious assets and they should use them.
This woman apparently didn't bother. Her hair was reddish blond, her skin fair. She jumped when the spark struck her shoulder, and the golden light revealed that she was young and pretty. There was intelligence in her expression, wariness and interest mingled together.
Despite that, there couldn't be a woman on the face of the earth whom he was less likely to find intriguing. She seemed to feel the same way about him. Lorenzo didn't find it promising that they had that one thing in common.
Meanwhile, he smiled at the crowd and bowed, as though everything were going according to plan.
Far from it! Curse the firestorm, its timing, and its choices. Curse his
Pyr
nature and everything that came with it.
Lorenzo was just going to have to work with the firestorm.
Somehow.
Cassie jumped when the spark struck her shoulder. She'd assumed it was an illusion, but the collision of
that flame with her skin gave her the strangest sensation.
She was hot.
She was simmering.
No, she was
aroused
. The electric heat of desire slid through her body, turning her mind in earthy directions, making her fidget in her chair. She was consumed with lust, which was about as far from her usual frame of mind as possible.
She stared at Lorenzo, wondering what the hell he was pumping into the air in this place. He smiled at her as slowly as she'd anticipated. Like he knew what she was thinking. He was suave and confident, and she wondered whether he made love slowly, too.
In fact, she tingled at the very idea.
He was manipulating her, but she couldn't figure out how.
Lorenzo was gorgeous, but Cassie saw lots of hot guys up close and personal in her line of work. Genuine or augmented. She talked to them, she cajoled them, sometimes she even shared a joke with them. Not a one of them had ever made her feel like this. Not a one of them had ever made her mouth go dry or made her panties wet with a single glance.
She wasn't sure there had ever been anybody who had made her feel like this.
And she didn't like it one bit.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys.” Lorenzo's voice was low and rich, the kind of voice a woman could listen to all day long.
Or all night long.
Cassie stifled a shiver and folded her arms more tightly across her chest. Charisma. He had charisma. Buckets of it. That was all. And he knew how to work a crowd. He had each and every one of them in his pocket already.
Maybe there were vibrators in these chairs.
Or just in hers.
“I hope you are prepared to be amazed!”
A flick of his wrist, and the stage erupted in flames. They were brilliant orange and waist-high, surrounding Lorenzo. He stood, smiling, in his tux, untouched by the fire. Maybe he was Faust, completely at ease with the heat of hellfire. Certainly there was something wicked in his smile.
With a gesture from him, the flames were all extinguished, the stage still looking like wooden boards.
Unburned.
The audience applauded wildly, but Lorenzo was already on the move.
“Yum!” Stacy whispered, and Cassie nodded agreement.
Okay, she wasn't just burned-out. She was going insane. Cassie felt like a besotted teenager, but she couldn't take her eyes off Lorenzo.
This was not good.