Chapter Five

Mia spent Sunday in a frenzy of anxiety. She left the envelope with the printout on Carpenter Techtronics on her kitchen counter, rubbing her hand over it frequently, hoping to call forth another image. But as if Fate were playing games, her mind remained blank. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to touch the kitchen knife repeatedly, but again nothing resulted from it.

“Damn it,” she screamed, kicking at a kitchen chair and shouting into the air. “When I want you to leave me alone, you drive me crazy. When I want your help, you leave me alone. No wonder people think I’m nuts. I must be for sure.”

The cut on her hand didn’t help, either, throbbing most of the time and serving as a constant reminder of her frustration. She cleaned it and applied ointment twice more. Then, after rewrapping it, stuffed ice cubes in a baggie and held it over the wound until the cold hurt worse than the cut.

Her sleep, what she got of it, was broken and uneven. Images from past visions invaded her dreams, bombarding her senses and confusing her brain. She found herself waking frequently and afraid to let sleep return.

At least her mystery man hadn’t made another appearance. Maybe her sense receptors had just been out of whack. Maybe her brain cells were getting fried. Maybe, maybe, maybe. She almost found herself waiting for him to make another appearance, then mentally kicked herself for anticipating it.

Pathetic, Mia. Get a real date.

She was exhausted by the time Monday morning came around. Listlessly, she dressed for work, picking up her newspaper before she left the house. She stuck it in the car with her briefcase, determined to wait until she got to her office to see whether there was any new mention of Carpenter Techtronics or its possible new project. She stopped in the little employee kitchenette to get a cup of coffee. Then, settling herself at her desk, juggling everything with her good hand, she opened the paper to the business section and began scanning the articles.

“Looking for something special?”

She hadn’t heard the man come in, and his voice startled her so. When she looked up she jerked her hand so hard she knocked over her coffee. It spilled onto her desk and dripped onto her skirt.

It was him! The man from her visions. But who was he? And what was he doing in her office?

“I’m sorry.” His voice was deep and rich, like warm, thick honey. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Mia closed her eyes, counted to ten, then opened them again, hoping he’d have disappeared.

“Miss Fleming?” She opened her eyes. He was still there. “Here, let me help you with that.”

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on her desk and began mopping the liquid. Mia was frozen in place, unable to make herself move. How was this possible? How in the freakin’ hell was this possible?

He stopped, his hands full of soggy tissues. “Are you okay? You seem a little . . . out of it?”

Out of it? Mia thought that was one way of putting it.

“W-who are you?” She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him. Was he real or another vision that had popped into her brain?

Like that man, he was well over six feet. Instead of the revealing boxers he wore a well-cut gray sports jacket and black slacks that looked as if they’d been custom made for him. The lean body beneath the fabric was the same, though, what she could see of it, giving the impression it was all hard muscle. The same thick black hair now brushed the top of his black silk turtleneck. Dark eyes like onyx, fringed by thick lashes, were the centerpiece of a face with an olive complexion, high cheekbones, and a classic nose.

And a hard look about his face that made a stone wall look soft.

Mia felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Sexuality radiated from the man, an invisible heat that made her mouth dry and her pulse speed up.

I want to fuck you.

She dropped the files she’d been gathering out of the way, shock radiating through her. Had he really said that out loud, or had she just imagined it? That damnable pulse at the core of her pussy was beating like a tom-tom, and her skin felt too hot and too tight.

She’d have to get to the ladies room and run a sink full of water to repair the damage from the coffee. And cool down her blood. Luckily her computer sat on a side extension so the coffee didn’t get to it.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look at him. “I’m fine, sorry, you just startled me.”

When they’d cleaned up the debris and she’d tossed the tissues and wet papers in the trash, she sat back down at her desk, trying to compose herself. But when she looked at him again an arrow of heat pierced through her. His presence filled the room with an overwhelming sense of power that made the air vibrate.

Get real, Mia. You’re not the type of person who falls in lust with a total stranger like this. Especially this type of man.

Oh, no? her other self countered. What about the vision? What about what happened yesterday?

She managed to pull herself together, trying to ignore the coffee stains on her gray skirt, checking to see that nothing had splashed on her tweed jacket, willing herself to keep it together.

Ha!

“I don’t recall having any appointments today.” She hoped she sounded cool and professional. “May I help you?”

“You can if you’re Mia Fleming.” He was still looking at her strangely. “And, that is, if you’re all right.”

The timbre of the deep voice made her shiver, and butterflies began a dance in her stomach. Impossible that he could be looking for her. She was used to strangers in the museum but not to having them rattle her like this. Besides, men like him never wandered into her corner of the museum. Or any corner, for that matter, except for during special events. And they certainly never came deliberately looking for her.

Unless they show up in one of my visions.

Mia took a deep breath, centering herself and trying her best to focus. Breathing, however, was difficult. This man seemed to take up all the air in the room.

“I’m Dr. Fleming.” She hoped her voice sounded at least close to normal. “Is there something I can do for you? If you want to discuss an exhibit or an event, Dr. Hunter is the person you want to see, but I’m afraid you’re out of luck. He’s out of town at the moment.”

Oh, please. Could I sound any more self-deprecating? Why don’t I hunch my shoulders and peer up at him like a mouse? Get a grip, Mia.

He stood at the front of her desk, looming over her. “No. I don’t think Dr. Hunter is the person I want. “

She took another deep breath, unsettled by his nearness. “I’m sorry you wasted your time coming here when the director is gone, but perhaps I can arrange a tour of the museum while you’re here?”

“I thought I just said the director’s not who I want.” A ghost of a smile drifted over his chiseled mouth. Something about the way his facial muscles moved told her he wasn’t a man who smiled a lot. “I would have suggested a cup of coffee, but that seems to be a lethal weapon for you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Don’t get flustered, Mia. “You just startled me.”

He inclined his head toward her bandaged hand. “I see you injured yourself.”

She waved it off, even though she’d been swallowing acetaminophen at an alarming rate to dull the pain. Surely she was just being a baby about it, right? It was just a stupid cut. “Household accident. I think I’m genetically clumsy.”

“Now, why do I have a hard time believing that?” He lowered himself into the chair opposite her desk with pantherlike grace, his rangy body dwarfing it. His gaze took in every inch of her that he could see, giving her the feeling she was being x-rayed.

I want to fuck you.

Mia shook. Had he really said that? Of course not. His actual words were, “I understand you’re the art historian for the museum.”

She frowned. Okay, he wasn’t leaving right away. He didn’t want a tour. If he hadn’t stepped out of her vision, what was this all about? “Yes. I do the research for all the exhibits and provide the material for the media kits and the brochures. Are you in the art business?”

“No, I’m not.”

Silence settled over them, and he watched her as if waiting for her to say something else.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”

The ghost smile again. “I didn’t give it to you. It’s Dan Romeo. And I have very little to do with art except to appreciate both its value and its beauty.”

Like yours.

Okay, this was getting too weird even for her. She attempted to pull the frayed edges of the situation together.

“Then I can’t imagine what you’d want with me. Are you sure you didn’t get lost here? I’d be happy to show you to the correct person.”

“No. You’re the one I want.”

More silence. The butterflies were fluttering harder in her stomach. This wasn’t about sex, despite the voice in her head. Unexplained disappointment surged through her. Something was wrong here, and she couldn’t figure out what. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

“Well, that’s very flattering, I’m sure, but I have a great deal of work to do. Unless there’s something specific you want, I’ll have to be rude and ask you to leave.”

“Before I’ve even told you why I’m here?”

Mia tried to still the panic that slammed into her. Surely it couldn’t be the email. She was positive she’d covered her tracks. But his next words told her just how wrong she was.

“I understand you like to send anonymous emails,” he said at last.

Thunk! The butterflies were replaced by the Radio City Rockettes doing a tap dance. How could he have traced her? She’d been so careful, building her protection. And no one had ever been able to get through the museum’s firewall before, giving her a sense of security when she sent her messages.

“In my job, yes. I exchange a lot of emails. And, of course, we use them for internal communications. But anonymous? I don’t think so.” She cleared her throat. “Why would you even think that?”

Say it, she wanted to scream. At least I’ll know I got through.

He leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes impaling her. “I think we can stop the cat-and-mouse game, Dr. Fleming. An email was sent Friday night to Carpenter Techtronics from your computer. I know it’s yours, because I’ve checked all the others. Does anyone use it but you?”

Lie or tell the truth? Pretend ignorance or get it out in the open? Come on, Mia, don’t be a weak sister. Show him what you’re made of.

She let out a slow breath. “No. I’m the one who sent the email.”

“And also made two calls to make sure Mr. Carpenter got it?”

She nodded.

“Thank you for telling me the truth and saving us both a lot of time and unpleasantness.”

”I’d like to know how you traced it back to me,” she said. Where had she made a mistake?

“With some very sophisticated equipment. Look,” he told her, “I’m trying to be low-key here, but if you have inside knowledge of something going on at his company, this would be a good time to tell me.”

She wet her lips again. “I don’t have knowledge. Exactly. At least, not the way you mean.”

All trace of humor and courtesy disappeared from his face. “I don’t really have time to play games here, Dr. Fleming. You obviously know something. Or are involved in it. If you won’t tell me what you know, we may get to that unpleasantness I thought we were avoiding.”

She needed a sign. Something that told her he’d believe her crazy story. And not consider her the culprit. Sometimes a simple touch gave her the signal she needed. Sometimes, although not always, she could “read” people this way and know whether she was dealing with an enemy.

“Would you do me a favor, Mr. Romeo? Shake hands with me?”

One eyebrow lifted. “Excuse me?”

“Just shake hands with me. Surely that won’t create a problem.” She waved her hands in the air. “It’s not as if I have a gun or anything.”

“Fine. If it will get me some answers.” He leaned across the desk and stretched out a hand, his face still implacable.

Mia steeled herself for his touch. This was the dangerous part in more ways than one. What if the image came back, right now, right here, sharp and vivid in her office? What if her body responded the way it had the day before? It would take all her skills to get a sense of the flesh-and-blood man without revealing more than she wanted to.

When she clasped his hand, the sense of heat spread through her as it had the day before. But now there was something else. Something that overrode it. The most amazing feeling of warmth. A sense of safety. When the image of the nearly naked man tried to intrude she concentrated on banishing it. But there was no hostility. Nothing for her to fear. She could tell him the truth. He was safe. Built of granite, but safe.

“Do you know anything about psychic abilities?” she asked, letting go of his hand. “About precognition?”

She waited for the skepticism and ridicule, bracing herself for a negative, derogatory reaction.

But he didn’t recoil or make a face as most people did. Or stare at her as if she had two heads. And what he said caught her off guard.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Are you saying you have precognitive powers?”

God, did that mean he somehow knew about her vision of him? No, not possible. Just not possible.

She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Most people think I’m some kind of a kook or a nut. I’ve tried to help the police before, but sometimes I can’t interpret the images clearly enough, and I’ve made . . . mistakes.”

“I can understand that. Your average bear has little knowledge of any kind of psychic powers. I think most people are even a little afraid of them.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “You surprise me. I didn’t think a man like you would take psychic abilities seriously.”

He shifted in the chair, recrossing his legs. “A man like me?”

“You look very pragmatic,” she told him, hoping she wasn’t putting her foot in her mouth. “Black-and-white. The hard-evidence type. Parapsychology often requires taking things simply on faith.”

He studied her again as he had before. “I own a . . . security company called Phoenix. One of my partners is a telepath. So is his wife. Their ability to communicate is the only thing that saved his life when he was captured in the Peruvian jungle.” He paused. “Maybe I could tell you the story sometime.”

Electricity crackled in the air between them, and Mia wondered whether Dan Romeo felt it as she did. He gave no indication, simply sat in his loose-jointed-but-alert way in the chair opposite her. At least the fever in her body seemed to have subsided to a controllable temperature. She could feel herself relaxing as relief stole over her. She’d been not only nearly shocked out of her senses by his appearance but also sure that he’d think what she had to say was nonsense. Instead, however, he was waiting to hear her explanation. She wet her lips. “It certainly sounds like something I’d like to hear.”

Of course, who knew if he’d be around longer than this meeting to tell her anything?

I’m going to fuck you.

Mia clenched her hands into fists and dug her nails into her palms. She stared at Dan, trying to read something, anything, into his expression. But there was nothing to give him away. If he was somehow sending her thoughts he didn’t show it. She had to get a grip here.

“Also, I happen to know the military has been experimenting with various Psi groups for years,” he went on. “So while others might blow this off, I take you very seriously.”

“Okay, that’s good. But let me just give you a little thumbnail here to flesh out whatever you might know.” She drew a breath and let it out. She didn’t like feeling off-kilter. At least in this subject she was in control. Most of the time.

“Precognitive experiences occur most often in dreams,” she began. “But they can also occur in what’s called spontaneous waking visions flashing through the mind. Some are also auditory, but mine never have been.”

He listened carefully, his expression attentive. “Go on.”

“The difference between precognition and other Psi events like premonition is that precognition generally involves an explicit future event.” Like having sex with you. She gave him a wry smile. “Providing you can decipher the bits and pieces of the visions. Premonition deals with the sense or feeling that something is going to happen, but the event is nonspecific. Like feeling someone is in danger but not knowing how or where.”

“I can relate to that.”

Her eyes widened. “You can? Don’t tell me you have psychic abilities, too. That would be too much of a coincidence.”

He shook his head. “Not exactly. I was a Force Recon Marine. What you’re talking about, at least with premonition, is kind of like the gut feelings I’d get when we were on a mission and something bad was about to happen.”

She nodded. “Yes. A different type of internal sensing. Okay, then. If precognition is a glimpse of the true or real future, then the visions are events witnessed before the causes. It makes it difficult to get people to believe you don’t really have advance knowledge or an ulterior motive.”

“Which can lead to skeptics and questions from people like me,” he guessed. “I’m assuming this all started with a precognitive vision, so why don’t you tell me what it’s all about? Chase Carpenter is a good friend of mine. I was coming here today to help him with security for his big announcement and demonstration on Friday anyway. When he got your email he called me; I jumped on our plane and arrived on the weekend.”

“You have your own plane?” Close your mouth, Mia. So do many of your donors.

“It makes life easier.” His eyes studied her. “So here I am. Your story, Dr. Fleming?”

“I’d feel better if you called me Mia.”

And maybe put your arms around me and held me against that very attractive body of yours.

Jesus, Mia. What is it with you? This is business. And he doesn’t look like a man who has the word comfort in his vocabulary. Not to mention he’s a total stranger and came here to investigate you. Except, of course, for that very weird thing that happened the night before. And the voice that kept intruding into her head.

Watching him for any signs of doubt or disbelief, she gave him the short version of her personal history as it related to her gift. Then she launched into descriptions, in sequence, of the images relating to Carpenter and their new toy. Something, she couldn‘t say what, made her hold back the vision of the stabbing knife. Maybe he’d think it too absurd and discount everything else she had to say.

“I’m assuming someone’s going to try to steal it. Whatever it is. I wanted to warn Mr. Carpenter so he’d be prepared for whatever might happen.”

“Security is very tight around his little toy,” Romeo told her. “And it’s about to get even tighter. If anyone decides to try something they’ll be in for a big surprise.”

“I’m still shocked that you don’t think I’m crazy,” she told him. “Or making this up. Usually when people hear what I have to say, they run in the opposite direction.”

“I know you’re surprised, but no. Nothing like that. I actually believe you’re onto something we can’t afford to disregard.”

She twisted her fingers together. “I have to be very careful of what my powers get me involved in because of the museum. If people thought a nut was part of the staff here, it could seriously affect our exhibits and contributions.”

“Don’t worry. No one will hear anything from me.” He stood up. “I’ve got to call Chase, figure out how to ease him into this explanation. He’s an engineer. If he can’t see it he doesn’t necessarily believe it.”

“That could be a problem,” she pointed out.

“I’ll handle it. I also need to contact my office and make some additional security plans, based on what you’ve told me. I thought we were all set, but I can’t afford to take any chances. Not in this situation.” He paused. “But I’d like to take you to lunch, if you’re agreeable.”

Lunch. With him. The man in her vision.

Mia hesitated, sensing things shifting around her. Normally her social engagements were limited to a few friends like Brad or the people she worked with to promote exhibits. Sometimes with donors but usually in a large group setting. She couldn‘t even remember the last time she’d been out on a date. Too many men had either shied away from her psi ability or treated her like some weird specimen. But, of course, she mentally kicked herself, this certainly was not anything remotely related to a date.

She wet her lips. “Lunch?”

God. Let’s hear it for my social graces. Could I be any more tongue-tied?

“I’d like to get more details about your visions and what prompts them,” he explained. “Maybe if we go over everything piece by piece, we might pick up a clue as to who and what we should be on the alert for. I just thought we’d be much more relaxed over a meal.”

Oh. So not a social event. Okay. Better. Considering what was brewing in her addled brain, the smartest thing would be to keep as much distance as possible between her and this man who sent shockwaves through her body. Make him interview her in her office, or someplace equally neutral.

“Is that a problem?” he asked when she didn’t say anything. “You do eat lunch, right?” One corner of his mouth quirked up in a lazy smile.

Her blood heated as if she’d put a match to it. Warning bells were clanging loudly in her head. But what the heck. What could happen at lunch?

“That would be very nice,” she heard herself saying and silently gave thanks that she kept a change of clothes at the office. Going to lunch wearing coffee stains wasn’t high on her list of ways to make a good impression. “Thank you. What time?”

“Twelve thirty? I’ll be waiting out front for you. And I’ll be bringing someone I’d like you to meet.”

She felt herself pale. “I don’t think . . .”

His smile involved his entire mouth this time, and her pulses began to throb erratically. Now she knew what a killer smile was.

“This person is definitely nonthreatening. He has a psychic gift, too. He’s the partner I mentioned before. I just thought it might ease things a little, and he could possibly be of some help.”

She relaxed a tiny bit. “All right. I think.”

“Oh, and you might tell whoever you need to let know these things that you’ll probably be out most of the afternoon.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And where will I be instead of here?”

“Chase is going to want to question you himself, and I’d like to make this as nonthreatening as possible. “

“Nonthreatening?”

“Mia.” His voice was even, casual but firm. “You’ve come up with the idea that someone’s going to do some kind of harm to Carpenter Techtronics. I can’t just ask you a few questions and walk away. I thought lunch would help to give you some time to prepare before we meet with him.”

“I see.” She shoved her hands into her skirt pockets so he wouldn’t notice their trembling.

“So is twelve thirty good for you?”

“Yes. That will be fine. I can get things organized in my office by then and leave a message with the director’s secretary. He’s still out of town, so he won’t miss me.”

“Good. See you then.”

Mia walked him to the elevator, but when the doors closed shutting him in the car, she stood staring at the wall for a long time. What was she getting herself into? No man had ever produced the incredible effect on her that Dan Romeo did. He was like an inexorable force sweeping her into deep waters. And then, of course, there was the damned dream, or vision, or whatever the hell it had been. How was she supposed to have a business relationship with him?

She hoped by lunch she’d gotten her senses and her hormones under control.

* * * * *

Dan sat in his rented SUV in front of the museum, trying to gather his fractured thoughts together. The last thing he’d expected when he walked into Mia Fleming’s office was the woman who greeted him. With a thick fall of dark chocolate hair and eyes like rare emeralds, she was a Botticelli come to life, the innocence of the Madonna blended with the unconscious charms of a courtesan. An image of which she seemed totally unaware.

And then there was her mouth, full lips that he’d like to devour, and a body he’d give everything in his wallet to see naked in his bed.

Well, that’s very professional. Way to go, Dan. Break a few rules.

He never, ever mixed business with pleasure. No matter how tempting the women involved in their cases were, his marine training gave him the discipline to stick to his personal code. It appeared that he and the very appealing Dr. Fleming were about to be involved together in whatever this . . . thing . . . turned out to be. He just hoped he could manage to be around her without sporting an erection that drew everyone’s attention.

His partners, of course, would laugh themselves silly. During his downtime, Romeo lived up to his name in spades. Between cases his dance card was always filled with any number of willing women. Sex, he’d learned a long time ago, was a great stress reliever, and he had a lusty enjoyment of it.

But while he might revel in it, intensely and often, for him it was purely a physical activity. Emotion never played a part in it. He’d seen too many evil things in life, been to hell and back too many times, to let himself ever open up to a relationship. He’d also learned not to make pillow talk and run the risk of giving away secrets. For Mark and Faith it was a lot different. If he could have something like that . . .

Can it, Romeo. Don’t live up to your name.

Yet with this woman he felt like a horny teenager experiencing his first crush. He had no doubt she could probably pry the code to Fort Knox out of him without even trying. He was glad he’d managed to get out of there without embarrassing himself and letting her see exactly how she affected him.

Jesus! What did he do now? He’d be seeing her every day until this situation was resolved. Maybe in the evening, too, depending on how things went. Knowing how precognition worked, it would be to his advantage to keep her with him at all times, to be there whenever a vision hit her. Talk about a time bomb waiting to go off. He’d just have to take a lot of cold showers.

Meanwhile, he had to figure out how to explain to Chase where the information was coming from. Engineers and psychics might as well come from two different planets. Well, he had one ace in the hole he could play. Mark Halloran, his telepathic partner, lived in San Antonio and was currently between assignments. Mark, a former Delta Force team leader, was about as no-nonsense as they came. He could help convince Chase that they weren’t discussing black magic.

He opened his phone and hit speed dial.

“Dragon’s lair,” Andy answered.

“I hope the Dragon’s in a good mood, today,” Dan told him, “because I have more work for him.”

“Fire away. He’s always hungry.”

Dan gave Andy what little he had on Mia Fleming and asked him to do a full search on her, then send the details to his phone.

“On it right now,” Andy assured him.

The next person he called was Mark.

“What do you know about precognition?” he asked the moment Mark answered the phone.

“Well, hello to you, too.” Mark chuckled. “I gather urgency dictates an absence of pleasantries.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hello. And hi to Faith. Okay. Precognition.”

“Probably not nearly as much as Faith. You know, when she was having trouble managing her telepathic abilities, focusing them, she went to her aunt Vivi for help. She’s learned a lot about parapsychology since then. Is that too much information or not enough?”

That trouble had been during Mark’s imprisonment in a terrorist camp in Peru and his rescue by Phoenix. Faith’s Aunt Vivi, who herself had psychic gifts, had introduced Faith to a small circle of friends who were part of The Lotus Circle, an ancient club revived recently by four women that now involved people all over the world. They were helping Faith harness her ability and learn how to direct it properly.

“She meets with Vivi and some of her friends on a regular basis. They discuss all types of parapsychology and ways to make it useful. I’ll be willing to bet precognition is one of the areas they’ve been studying. I think she’s even including some type of psychic gift in her next book. Why?”

Dan explained the situation in short, terse sentences. “So what I’m asking is, can you meet us for lunch? And somehow before that get Faith to give you a short course on the basics, if she’s around?”

Mark laughed. “You don’t want much, do you?”

“I also want to take you to this meeting at Carpenter Techtronics.” Dan told him. “I need another reasonable head assuring them we aren’t consulting with witch doctors. I need all the help I can get explaining how someone not planning to rob them knows about a crime that may or may not be committed.”

“No problem. Faith’s at home working on her next book. I’ll bribe her with a cup of strawberry tea and get what I can from her before I leave to meet you. Anyway, I think she’ll be glad to get me out from underfoot. She’s trying to meet a looming deadline, and I’m driving her nuts, if you’ll pardon the pun. Are you picking me up or meeting me at the restaurant?”

“Meeting you at Carpenter’s. I need to touch base with Chase and his people before lunch. Then we can ride together. See you in thirty.”

Dan’s next call was to Chase, who answered in the middle of the first ring.

“Well?” he demanded.

“Listen,” Dan began, “I have some answers to our questions, but they’re not quite what you’re expecting.”

“I don’t understand.” Chase’s voice was edgy. “Did you find the person sending the email or not? Do they know who’s planning to steal Oscar? Are they the ones?”

“Not exactly. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“Damn it, Dan,” Chase exploded. “I want some straight answers. Too much is riding on this to play games.”

“No games. I’m bringing someone to your office who can help me explain what’s happening. We’ll be there in half an hour. And Chase? I think now it’s time to let your partners in on what’s happening.”

By the time Mark and Dan hooked up in the Carpenter lobby, Andy had sent him the file with Mia’s very interesting history, both professionally and psychically.