sweat lazily traced its way down her spine. "We're getting ready to close. I
thought maybe you'd like to go have a drink." Or some kinky, mind-blowing,
illegal-in-thirty-seven-countries sex.
In one languid movement, he stood, forcing her to crane her neck to look at
his face. He reached down and took her hand in his before placing a gentle
kiss on the back, which sent shock waves of arousal straight to her aching
labia. "I'm Grayson—"
"Hello, Grayson." An older woman pushed her considerable bulk between
them, cutting off his words, forcing him to drop Katelyn's hand and
making Katelyn take a step back. "I'm Ethel Harding, and you're the sexiest
man I've seen around here since my fourth husband, Earl."
Katelyn glared at the interfering woman who had pressed her ample
bosom against Grayson's arm while one hand caressed his chest. There was
no way Katelyn was going to lose him to some woman who was ninety if
she was a day—especially after she'd finally worked up the nerve to
approach him. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Harding, but this is a private conversation
between myself and Grayson."
Ethel batted her fake eyelashes at Grayson, and Katelyn was surprised the
poor things didn't crawl off her face like indignant black spiders that
refused to do her bidding.
"It's Ms. Harding. The last Mr. Harding passed on last year." Ethel's drawnon eyebrows disappeared into her overdyed hairline. She waved a fleshy
hand liberally dripping with gaudy rings and bracelets that clacked
together like discordant wind chimes.
Katelyn narrowed her gaze and wished she could shoot lasers from her
eyes and fry Ethel where she stood. She dropped her voice to arctic-chill
levels. "All right... Ms. Harding. Again, this is a private conversation, and
the store is now closed. It's time for you to leave."
Ignoring Katelyn, Grayson raised Ethel's beefy hand to his lips. Katelyn
harrumphed and crossed her arms in front of her.
He brushed a gentle kiss across the back of the wrinkled skin, and Katelyn
resisted the urge to turn her glare on him.
A heavy sigh escaped Ethel, and Katelyn knew the woman was lost.
"Perhaps I can be of some assistance, Ethel." Grayson had the gall to toss
Katelyn a saucy wink.
"Aren't you the charmer?" Ethel blushed like a virgin and licked her thin
lips as her whole manner became . . . predatory. Ethel's hungry gaze raked
over Grayson, and his brow furrowed for the first time.
Sensed the danger a tad too late, huh? Katelyn resisted the urge to smile at his
predicament.
"Actually, Ethel, a woman of the world, such as yourself, deserves a man
with more means and the ability to take care of you properly."
Katelyn clenched her fists and tried not to make retching noises in the
background of Grayson's "performance."
Oblivious to Katelyn's sarcastic thoughts, Grayson continued. "But let's
consult the gods, shall we?"
He placed Ethel's hands between his own and closed his eyes as if waiting
for enlightenment. Out of curiosity, Katelyn let her senses expand to
sample the energy surrounding him again.
As a Seer, she was used to reading people's auras, and she'd always been
fascinated by people who were true psychics as opposed to Seers, who
received visions only as needed. She'd been a Seer since birth and had
spent many years trying patiently to educate the populace about the
difference.
Grayson's aura was definitely different from anything she'd ever sensed—
he buzzed with power, whereas most people possessed only a faint hum.
Katelyn stiffened in surprise. This power intrigued her more than his
handsome face and his killer body. He was either an old soul or an actual
practitioner who knew how to harness and use energy. In either case, this
made Grayson a rare and interesting man.
However, when his energy didn't change, she immediately saw him for the
fraud he was. She allowed her shoulders to slump as disappointment and a
thin tendril of anger flowed through her. In order to receive impressions or
messages, psychics needed to change their energy levels. As a Seer she
didn't get a choice—the vision came whether she wanted it or not, and her
energy not only changed but usually sucked her under.
Grayson's deep voice broke the expectant silence and caused goose bumps
to march over her skin. Something about that voice slipped past all her
shields and reached deep inside her, exciting her and scaring her at the
same time.
"Apparently, the next Mr. Harding is right at this moment sitting down to
lunch at the Phoenix Resort. I see a gray, pinstriped suit and a large garnet
ring on his right pinkie finger."
Ethel's wide eyes and sudden intake of breath told Katelyn she'd been
totally reeled in. "No one has ever been able to give me such detail in a
reading before. You're truly extraordinary!" She cast a condescending glare
in Katelyn's direction before turning her adoring attention back to Grayson.
"What else can you tell me?"
He closed his eyes once more, as if seeking enlightenment from the
universe. "I see lots of money in your future and ..." His voice trailed off,
and he pursed his sensual lips.
"What? What?" She slapped her other hand over his and shook it as if the
jerky movement would spill the answers from his lips.
He opened his eyes. "I'm loath to speak of something so private in front of
such cultured women as yourselves, but because the gods are giving me
this message for you, I suppose I should share it."
Ethel shook his hands some more and seemed in danger of exploding on
the spot if she didn't hear his next words. "Share! Share! We can't
disappoint the gods."
He sighed as if deciding whether to override his better judgment. "Well, it
seems the future Mr. Harding is rather ... well endowed, and enjoys using
his ... equipment."
Ethel's mouth dropped open, and Katelyn thought the woman might drool
on the floor like a bulldog. "I mustn't keep him waiting. Thank you! Thank
you!" Quicker than Katelyn would've given her credit for, Ethel grabbed
Grayson and mashed her fleshy lips against his. Then she reached into her
purse and thrust a wad of bills into his hand.
In seconds, the whirlwind who was Ethel Harding left the shop, the chimes
on the door tinkling to show Katelyn she hadn't imagined the whole thing.
Then her gaze again found him.
"So, are you a professional con man?"
He shook his head, still recovering from Ethel's kiss—though he did stop
short of wiping any remnants of the deed from his lips. "She obviously
didn't know the difference between a Seer and a psychic and didn't care, as
long as she received the answers she sought. So I gave them to her."
Katelyn resisted the urge to be impressed that he knew the difference. "And
what happens when Ms. Harding gets to the Phoenix Resort and realizes
you lied to her? You'll be long gone, and she'll be back in my shop
screaming bloody murder."
Anger and frustration roiled in Katelyn's belly. She stalked to the front
door to flip her OPEN sign to CLOSED. Then she strode behind her display
case, putting distance between her and Grayson.
Why are men so high-maintenance? I only wanted a hot night, and now I may
have a pissed-off retired debutante on my hands.
Grayson followed Katelyn but stayed on the customer side of the counter.
He laid down the wad of money, obviously an offering for her, and then
placed both long-fingered hands on the case and leaned forward, invading
her personal space.
Her gaze was pulled downward like a magnet. Katelyn tried not to dwell
on how those large calloused hands would feel gliding over her body.
Heat flowed through her, causing her nipples to harden against her bra
and moisture to gather between her thighs. Her calf-length peasant skirt
swirled around her suddenly sensitive skin, making her wish she had worn
jeans.
She huffed out a breath. If he wasn't a good candidate for her one hot night,
she should just move on. But her body had different ideas. She couldn't
explain why, but she was drawn to this man like a drug. In fact, she'd
never reacted to a man this way before.
Grayson leaned forward, the well-defined muscles of his forearms flexing
with the movement and threatening to turn her into a needy puddle of
hormones. His amethyst eyes danced with mischief as he spoke. "When she
reaches the Phoenix Resort, she'll find the owner, Mr. Fowler, who when I
left him a few scant hours ago said he'd gladly trade his entire fortune for a
doting wife to share his life and lavish vacations in someplace called Boca.
Somehow, I think that's exactly what she will be more than happy to offer."
Katelyn reached forward, intent on removing his hand from the top of the
display case—but leaning closer only brought those sensual lips way too
close to allow her to think clearly.
When her hand made contact with his arm, she gasped. Her sight grayed,
and the familiar disorientation that accompanied her visions assaulted her.
She tumbled into a lush wilderness—no, it was too manicured to be
wilderness ... a park or garden perhaps. Fragrant plants of every type
surrounded her while a massive white stone mountain that glittered almost
pink in the distance rose off to her right.
Mist from the waterfall made the air heavy with moisture, but the air was
sweet with the scent of gardenias, lavender, and all manner of growing
things. Thick grass rose under her bare feet, and she realized she wore only
a skimpy cotton half top and some boy shorts that sat low on her hips.
Katelyn searched the clearing, and joy suffused her as Grayson walked
toward her. She enjoyed watching the play of his muscles as he moved. His
gaze was predatory and hungry, and her skin tingled in anticipation.
When he reached her, he folded her into his arms. She melted against him,
their mouths fused together as if they'd done this a thousand times. His
tongue delved inside her mouth, and those wonderfully large hands
slipped under her half top to cup her aching breasts. She moaned against
his lips as her body screamed for more.
She clawed at his clothes as each touch of his hands spread electricity and
mindless need through her entire body. When they'd bared each other, she
moaned as he guided her gently down to lie in the sun-warmed grass.
Katelyn sighed as the grass tickled her sensitive skin and the scent of lush
vegetation, lavender, and a fragrance uniquely Grayson filled her senses.
He swallowed the sound as his weight settled over her, his body cradled in
the vee of her open thighs. He braced himself on his forearms and
continued to explore her mouth while his thumbs stroked her cheeks and
neck.
His crisp chest hairs teased her engorged nipples with every movement,
and she writhed under him as her arousal spiraled higher.
He pulled back enough to look into her eyes. "Katelyn ..."
Her name on his lips sounded exotic, forbidden, and a sudden orgasm
slammed into her. She dug her nails into the muscles of his back as her
world spiraled.
Katelyn blinked as blood slowly returned to her brain and she realized she
still stood inside her shop with a death grip on Grayson's arm. Her legs
wobbled, and she held on tighter to keep from collapsing.
He gently pried her fingers off his bare arm, wincing at the deep indents
her nails had left. "Katelyn, are you all right?"
She nodded, amazed she didn't have another spontaneous orgasm when he
uttered her name. As if a large weight pressed down on her, Katelyn
leaned heavily on the counter and concentrated on slowing her ragged
breathing and pounding heart.
"A vision?"
She closed her eyes against the sensual assault of his deep voice as she
continued to concentrate on bringing air into her lungs while her body
screamed at her to throw him to the floor and ride him until neither of
them could move.
What the hell is wrong with me? Something isn't right.
When she looked up, expecting to see a calculating gleam in his eyes or,
even worse, distrust and pity, she was stunned to see genuine concern. His
reaction both shocked and warmed her. Most people didn't understand her
visions, so, therefore, they feared them and reacted accordingly.
Without a word, Grayson walked around the counter and steadied her. She
recoiled, afraid she'd have a repeat vision and become a puddle of goo on
the floor at his feet. But when his warm hand closed over her shoulder,
nothing happened except for the enticing scent of man and chai that filled
her senses.
He led her from behind the counter to the overstuffed chair he'd spent the
last few days in and gently helped her sit.
In no condition to object, Katelyn sank into the cushions.
Grayson cupped her cheek and ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom
lip. "I'll try to find you some bread or sugar. Stay here."
Her skin still tingled where he'd touched her, which did nothing to help
her shake the effects of the vision. Katelyn fisted her hands in her lap,
resisting the urge to bring her fingers to her lips.