A Chance Encounter

by Lindsay McKenna

  “None of the above, princess,” he murmured, walking beside her to the front of the classroom. He put his arms around her, marveling at how small she was—and yet how strong and loving. “I’m deeply touched by your ability to help these people and their pets,” he began slowly, searching her upturned face. Dark smudges had begun to show beneath her lovely eyes. The last few days had been hard on her, he realized. Katie didn’t deal with certain types of stress very well. But then, he told himself, if someone were trying to expose him to the world, he’d be stressed, too.

  “I wanted to be a veterinarian for a while,” she admitted, disturbingly aware that mere inches separated them. He made her feel feminine, made her long to make love with him. She smiled softly. There was a charisma about Taylor Grant, one that drew her effortlessly to him “What stopped you?” he asked, trailing a finger down the velvet slope of her cheek.

  “I couldn’t stand biology.” She flinched slightly. “It was all those experiments. I can’t stand the sight of blood. I—uh, well, I faint.”

  “I’d believe that.”

  She gave him a dark look.

  “Because, princess, you’re overly sensitive to everything.” And then he scowled. “And to everyone.” He thought of the threatening phone call—as he did almost once an hour, whether he wanted to or not.

  Katie reached up to rest her hands on his well-muscled arms, aware of their controlled strength. “People like me do tend to be sensitized to everything,” she agreed. “We feel things more intensely, perhaps, than most.”

  He cocked his head, studying her guileless face. “I saw the tenderness in your eye when you were working with Brandon.”

  “He’s a wonderful little boy,” she said. “So manly. He was trying so hard not to cry—all out of worry over his gerbil. I was touched by it, Taylor.”

  “So was I. By both of you.”

  Katie tilted her head, her luminous eyes sparkling. “That’s nice to hear. I know you feel things deeply, too, but you rarely allow those feelings to surface. Nor do you share that side of yourself with anyone.”

  “It’s you,” he accused, leaning down to taste her lips. “You,” he repeated against their pliant sweetness. “You reach out and touch the world, and you wear your heart on your sleeve.” He molded his mouth against hers, feeling her body against him, graceful as a willow. He claimed her gently, as if she were a priceless, fragile gift. There was melting fire in her returning ardor, and he was aware of her strength. And Taylor could sense that where she was weak, he could be strong for her. An even more disturbing discovery was that Katie could be strong in those areas where he was weak.

  Reluctantly, Taylor drew away, his eyes silver with passion. Her lips were full and petulant, begging to be kissed again. And the lilac fragrance mingled with the scent of her warm, willing body, made him almost dizzy with need. “Lord,” he groaned, crushing her against him, “you feel good, taste good….”

  Katie smiled languorously, allowing him to hold her. “So do you.” She sighed softly, barely able to think coherently. Her body flamed, her knees felt wobbly and she didn’t trust herself to walk without support. So she simply rested against his hard length, listening to the powerful beat of his heart while she recovered. “Leave it to a Scorpio man to be the world’s greatest kisser.” She sighed with satisfaction.

  Taylor laughed softly, nuzzling his face into the silken folds of her hair. “Another generalization about Scorpio males?”

  “Well—Scorpio’s a water sign, and Scorpio men can communicate well on the emotional level—if they want to.”

  “I like communicating this way.”

  “Every Scorpio male does.”

  He grinned down at her. “You mean we’re passionate?”

  Katie drew slowly away, meeting his taunting smile. “Scorpios have a corner on that particular market,” she warned with a grin.

  Taylor shrugged. “It can’t be all that bad, if you enjoyed it.”

  “I enjoyed it,” she told him huskily.

  Devilry lurked in his gray eyes. “On a scale of one to ten, how did it rate?”

  She laughed throatily, leaving his embrace. “Oh, no! I’m not going to be responsible for swelling your head any more than it already is. You and I aren’t children. We know how we affect each other.”

  Taylor shot her a playful look. “I think I just got an eleven.”

  “You’re impossible!”

  “Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

  She eyed him, enjoying their renewed intimacy. He had been hurt by a woman, her instincts told her. And he needed to know how deeply he affected her. It would do his wounded ego good to find that not all women were out to destroy his manhood. But Katie kept these thoughts to herself, rewarding him with a dazzling smile.

  “Come on,” she said, “I have to relieve Maud. She’ll want to get some dinner. We don’t close till eight tonight. Remember?”

  “The only thing I remember is your warm body next to mine, your soft, hungry lips—”

  ‘Taylor!”

  He grinned, watching a flush paint her cheeks fiery pink. “I’m just communicating my emotions.”

  “You Scorpios!” she said. “You’re all alike!”

  Taylor busied himself at the desk, writing down some notes of what he had seen earlier, while Katie forced herself to go through several boxes of newly arrived books. Deep in thought, he raised his head and watched her. Katie struggled silently with the list in her lap as she sat on the floor, completely surrounded by books. A slight smile crossed Taylor’s mouth. Her brows were drawn together in concentration as she checked the book order, her mouth pouty. Did she realize how delicious she was? And then he laughed to himself. Maybe Katie was right. He had passion on the brain. But it rose in direct response to Katie Riordan, and no other.

  Idly he sat back in the creaky chair, enjoying the stolen moment. Since Maud’s departure at five, customer traffic had dropped to a minimum. “Want to take a break?” he asked. “I’ve got some questions for you.”

  “Am I glad you asked! I hate doing this detail work!” Smiling, she sprang to her feet and brushed the wrinkles from her skirt.

  “You looked in need of rescuing,” Taylor murmured dryly.

  “You should hire someone who enjoys detail work.”

  “What I need is a Virgo. They’re great at organization,” she muttered.

  “What are you, anyway?”

  “A Sagittarian.”

  “Ah, the centaur. Running around with his bow and arrow.” Taylor nodded sagely, holding her gaze. “That suits you—galloping off half-cocked, tilting at windmills like Don Quixote.”

  Katie smiled. “Sagittarian’s like to travel. They like to stay in a state of constant motion. And they love their freedom.”

  “Is that why you’re not married?”

  The laughter left her face. Sitting down at the desk, she said, “No.”

  Clearly he had struck a nerve. But the detective in him demanded to know more. “Why not, Katie? You’re certainly pretty enough. Great sense of humor. Nice body.”

  She tried to rally to his gentle teasing and pull herself out of the sudden tailspin of depression. “I was engaged once…quite a while ago. I made a fatal mistake when I was twenty-one.”

  “What? Falling in love?”

  “No. When I met Wes I neglected to tell him about my healing ability.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “I thought nothing of it, but he did.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She turned her head, staring at him intently. “This afternoon I watched you closely, Taylor. I saw the outright disbelief on your face. And, yes, I saw your fear, and then your confusion.” She held up her hands. “I’ve met very few people outside the field who can accept what I am and what I do. And when I told Wes about it, he thought I was crazy. He thought I should see a therapist.”

  “He was unable to accept your healing abilities?”

  “Yes. And I couldn’t marry him if he couldn’t acc
ept that.” Her voice showed her pain. “He called me an oddity. And he treated me as if I had leprosy or something.”

  “Katie, you have to admit that you’re very different from most people.”

  She gazed at him sadly. “But what you don’t understand is that there are hundreds of thousands of people all over the world who have the same abilities as I do. Only we don’t go around talking about it, because most people would be frightened. We aren’t a secret organization. We willingly share what we know when asked. Healers have been around since the dawn of time, Taylor. And I’m not much different from anyone else. I have a heart that feels, eyes that see. I’m human…only that. Nothing more, nothing less:”

  He was shaken by the pain in her voice. “I’m beginning to understand why you shy away from publicity, Katie,” he admitted quietly. “Wes wasn’t the only one who called you an oddity, was he?”

  Katie closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. From the time I was nine years old, I’ve learned—the hard way—to say nothing about my healing. And I can’t remember how many times I ran home from school to cry in my mother’s arms because the other children were afraid of me.” She opened her blue eyes, which were now awash with tears. “I’m a healer, just as you’re a writer. Do I condemn you because you have writing talent? Isn’t that an unexplained skill? Isn’t musical ability? Isn’t artistic talent? I only wish that healers could be as easily accepted as writers, musicians and artists. All we want to do is be of service to our fellow human beings.” Katie clasped her hands and bowed her head. “I want to fall in love with a man who will accept me as I am. I want children. I want what everyone wants—just a small portion of happiness….”

  Taylor roused himself, trying to find words that would soothe her, but discovering none. “Look, Katie, don’t you think it’s time you—or someone like you—took a stand? Showed the world what you have to offer?”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve thought about that, Taylor. But you’ll find that most healers are modest, shy people who can’t take the glare of publicity.” She gave him a meaningful look.

  “And I was a real barracuda, wasn’t I?” he muttered ruefully.

  “Now you understand why I begged you not to print that story.” She shrugged. “And I was right, too. What has it gotten me besides threatening phone calls, people coming here to stare at me as if I were an exhibit on display, and harassment by reporters from trashy newspapers and magazines who want to exploit me?” Katie got up, pressing her fingers to her temples, willing away a headache. Maud returned just then, making it impossible to continue the conversation. Taylor grimaced and looked down at his notes. Perhaps, somehow, he could make amends.

  “First things first,” Katie told Taylor as they entered her apartment. “I’m going to soak in a hot bath. I’m so exhausted!”

  Taylor nodded, shutting the door. “Go ahead. I’ll rummage around in the refrigerator and get us something to eat.”

  Katie hesitated at the bedroom door. “Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Okay.”

  She gestured toward the spacious living room. “Kick off your shoes and make yourself comfortable. There’s wine in the refrigerator.”

  “Sounds good. Want some?”

  Katie laughed ruefully. “Tired as I am, one glass of wine would send me under the table. No thanks.”

  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the bathtub filled with orange-scented crystals, but she had. The past few days had been hard on her emotionally, and at night her sleep had been punctuated by worry. She had greeted each new morning with bloodshot eyes. Now, immersed in the fragrant hot water, her eyes dropped closed and she relaxed completely. Katie heard a noise in the small bathroom, but opted to remain in that in-between state, desperately wanting to sleep. She felt strong, gentle hands sliding up her rib cage, settling beneath her arms and lifting her up…up and out of the lukewarm water. Her lashes opened drowsily. Taylor’s worried face danced before hers.

  “Just relax, princess,” he murmured gruffly as he wrapped her in a fluffy pink towel. He dried her gently, then reached for her lavender silk robe.

  “What happened?” Katie mumbled.

  “Nothing. I got worried when you’d been in here forty-five minutes. You fell asleep in the tub, Katie.” Taylor smiled tenderly, ignoring her protest as he wrapped the robe around her soft, naked body and drew the belt tight around her waist, tying it awkwardly. “Come on, you’re going to bed.”

  Her mind wasn’t functioning at all, and Katie groped to resist his arm as he led her into the darkened bedroom. “But—”

  “Shh, you need sleep, Katie. You’re worn out. Now, come on, slip under the covers….”

  Her heart pumped noisily in her breast as he lifted her off her feet and into his arms. She was aware of his provocative male scent, of his potent masculinity. She was safe, her heart whispered. Releasing a sigh, Katie slid her arms around Taylor’s neck, resting her head wearily against his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  Taylor laid her on the bed, drawing the sheet over her. Moonlight gleamed through the latticework of drapes, giving the room a molten glow. “Go to sleep, princess,” he urged, leaning over her to caress her hair.

  Her thick lashes rested against her cheeks as she snuggled into the downy pillow. “You’re a true knight,” she whispered, her voice trailing off into sleep.

  Taylor watched her sink into the arms of slumber. She was so small she seemed little more than a child in the huge bed. And she looked even more beautiful in sleep, if that were possible. With her lips slightly parted, a slender hand curled near her head, moonlight cascading over her quiet form, she was like an ethereal dream…. Shaking his head, Taylor wondered if he had fallen under a magical spell. He had experienced feelings and emotions that he’d thought were long dead and buried. Were Katie’s simplicity and honesty the keys to a rebirth of sorts—another chance at life for Taylor Grant? Bending down, he placed a light kiss on her cheek.

  “Good night, princess. See you in the morning.”

  For the rest of the evening the phone rang incessantly until finally, in frustration, Taylor took it off the hook. The reporters would not let up. Had they been calling this relentlessly since his article came out? Grimly, he paced the length of the silent living room ruthlessly examining his own behavior, but refusing to look too closely at his personal feelings for Katie. Sitting at the Queen Anne desk in the corner, he tried to make sense out of his notes. At eleven, Taylor decided to go to bed.

  Finding a blanket and pillow in the bedroom closet, he left the door ajar—in case Katie woke up feeling disoriented, and needed him. He remembered how she’d insisted he take the bed—and smiled. She’d been too exhausted to think of that tonight, no doubt. As he made his bed on the small bamboo settee, he had a vivid image of how beautiful she had looked asleep in the bathtub. Having knocked several times, he’d gotten worried. He’d opened the door. The sight of Katie, dark hair piled atop her head and curled by the steam, had sent an ache of longing through him. Her flesh was pink from the hot water, and she looked incredibly tranquil. Her body was firm and supple, breasts small but nicely formed. He had brushed such thoughts away and, concerned, had lifted her out of the water and into his arms. Her flesh was slippery and yielding beneath his grip as she collapsed against him, fighting to awaken…

  Taking a deep breath now, Taylor undressed in the bathroom. He showered quickly and slipped into blue drawstring pajama bottoms. He wore no top, and his broad chest caught the moonlight as he walked softly into Katie’s bedroom. A feeling of intense yearning passed over him. Lord, how he wanted to lie down and gather Katie’s small form against him. Just to sleep with her in his arms…Taylor banished the idea, berating himself as he walked quietly back out into the living room. He wanted Katie—all of her. Body, heart, soul and mind. And he knew this was no light matter. She couldn’t ever be a one-night stand. Would never allow herself to be. She was a woman who n
eeded a permanent and lasting relationship…. Grimacing, he lowered himself onto the small settee, letting it creak in protest under his two-hundred-some-odd pounds.

  ‘Tough,” Taylor muttered to the piece of furniture, “you’re just going to have to take it on the chin.”

  He drew the sheet to his waist and punched the pillow into a softer form that was more comfortable. A wry smile lingered on his lips. Right now he could be in that room with Katie in his arms. He knew she would come to him. He had seen the longing in her gaze. He closed his eyes. Give her time, Taylor. Time. She’s a butterfly, arid until you’re able to offer her something more…. Yet he was hungry for the feel, the touch, the fragrance, the sight of her. He was happiest when he was near her. Mentally he reran the day’s events. Katie…Katie…Lord, she was so exquisitely vulnerable…and then sleep stole the last of his lingering thoughts. Thoughts that blazed with emotion he ached to share with only her. And he knew Katie would treat his feelings with the greatest of care. Treasure…she was a salve to his badly scarred heart, and he longed to possess her body and soul…forever.

  Chapter 8

  Dark, marauding shapes stained her ordinarily brilliant dreams. Katie tossed and turned in her bed, the pale blue sheet twisted beneath her. Her heart picked up a dreaded beat, panic licking through every nerve in her body. She watched in terror as a large, shadowy shape congealed into the form of a man. An arm was raised and a rock hurled through the front window of her bookstore. Glass shattered and splintered like a shimmer of rainbow fragments and Katie screamed, retreating to the back of the store. Her panic turned to hysteria as she saw a bottle with a flaming rag in the top. The bottle exploded into a wall of flame as it skidded across the purple carpet of the bookshop. And then, as she crouched, arms thrown across her face, she cried out for help.

  “Katie? Katie, wake up!”

  She moaned, caught in the throes of the nightmare. The sinister shape of the man walking through the flames, grinning at her. Coming for her…trying to wrench free of the hand that held her shoulder, Katie jerked awake.