An unedited excerpt from CHAPTER TWO
Casey lugged an overstuffed carry-on bag past the stewardess and through the open door of the plane, feeling ever so grateful to have returned safely to earth. Funny that. She had no problem fighting off muggers and rapists in Central Park or dueling with semis on the New Jersey Turnpike, statistically far more dangerous, but this flight had had her white-knuckled and hyperventilating from Newark to Miami and from Miami to Mexico City.
But she’d arrived and was now officially starting her vacation. No, vacation didn’t cover it. Her adventure. Her quest. That was it. She was on a quest to learn the purpose of her “gift,” and either how to return it to sender or control the damn thing. If she could shut it down when she wanted, then maybe she could build the semblance of a normal life. As it was, it tended to have its own agenda.
Casey took a step onto the rickety rollaway stairs. Most of the other passengers had already disembarked and now walked across the sweltering tarmac toward the main terminal. Another step and Casey’s bag snagged on the railing, knocking her off balance. The bag dropped from her hand, her loafer flew off her foot, and she fell. She heard an “oof,” likely indicating that the shoe had hit some poor soul in the leg, but she had no time to apologize as she glared at the forthcoming pavement and released her power.
A steadying hand gripped her elbow at the same time a gust of power surged against her body and propelled her back to her feet. She nearly tipped too far, but something warm, solid, and male stopped her reversal and sent a frisson of awareness through her body.
Dammit! She’d sworn to lay off the power usage during this trip, at least in public. She planned to practice it in private, gain more control, while pretending to be normal for a little while.
Casey turned to face her would-be savior and saw that he held her shoe in the hand not cupping her elbow. She glanced cautiously at his face—a very yummy face—wondering if the man had any inkling of what he’d just witnessed.
He squinted his eyes against the bright sun. Green eyes, Casey noted despite the squinting, almost emerald, like the tree line in Central Park. “Did you feel that?” he asked.
Pulling herself back to the situation at hand, she decided her best defense was to feign ignorance. She cocked her head and widened her eyes. “Feel what?”
He was really quite nice looking. More than nice looking. In fact his looks likely attracted drooling women the world round. It would be all too easy to get lost in those dreamy eyes of his. She couldn’t bear the thought of ruining her chances with him at the outset by telling him the truth.
His eyebrows lifted. “That strange wind.”
So she lied. “Oh that. Yeah, that was weird, wasn’t it? Maybe it has something to do with being on top of an ancient lake.” Uh huh, that made sense. Casey nearly snorted at her tall-tale.
The delectable man with muscular arms encased in white shirtsleeves shook his head as if she was daft and offered her the loafer. “I believe this is yours.”
Casey couldn’t stop the rush of blood to her face. “I’m so sorry! Did it hit you?” Then she noticed the scuff mark on his pant leg. “It did!” She reached down to wipe off the smudge as if she were a mother and he a 6-year-old. He stepped away from her hand, so Casey looked up to find him flexing his solid square jaw in annoyance.
She froze. “Uh…” Lowering her hand, she hid the offending appendage in her pocket. “I-I’m sorry…again.” She tried for a smile.
Suddenly a grin lit his face and all seemed right in the world. “I’m Parker Nelson. You are?”
“Acacia Summers…just call me Casey.”
“Hi Casey, nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand.
Casey grimaced as she shook the proffered hand, trying not to notice how the heat of his touch affected her system. “Hardly nice, I’m sure, since I beat you with my shoe.”
“Really, it is nice to meet you.” They continued down the stairs, where Casey retrieved her zipped carry-on. It had landed upside-down on the tarmac next to the bottom step. Now well behind the rest of the passengers, they continued walking until they’d entered the air-conditioned terminal. Casey expected the handsome man to ditch her immediately, but he kept pace with her and asked, “Are you here for business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure.”
“Yo tambien.”
“Huh?”
He pulled a small Spanish dictionary out of the back pocket of his khakis. “I also.”
“Oh. I’m a bit rusty on Spanish,” she lied. She wasn’t rusty; she was clueless, which was an insult to the culture she planned to spend time getting to know. She’d consider it an immersion class. Surely hearing it spoken all around her would allow her to learn via osmosis.
“May I help you?” A young Hispanic porter blocked her path with a wheeled cart, speaking English like an American. Beyond him the terminal bustled with equal parts tourists and natives, sounding a bit like Babylon and nothing like a Spanish language tape. Blinding sunlight passed through large windows along the hallway, illuminating white tiles and chrome baggage carousels.
“No graciás.” Parker even had the accent down. The boy nodded and set off in search of his next prey.
Parker guided Casey to the baggage area, fending off eager porters with a cold glare.
“Gee, you’re good at that.” She glanced his way, spotting the smile that touched his ultra-kissable lips. With a gulp, she focused on the armies of luggage meandering past on the carousel. “I bet you’re somebody’s boss somewhere.”
“Actually, no. I’m just an underling.” He neglected to mention what line of work he was in.
That’s okay; I have my own secrets to keep.
“What color is your bag?” he asked.
“Multi. Tapestry actually. Kind of reddish I guess.” Deep in thought about the actual color of her bag, Casey almost let one piece pass her by. “Like this.”
It was the lighter bag, so she easily pulled it off the track and thunked it down next to her feet. Just before checking the bag in at Newark, she’d tucked a folding metal carrier inside the suitcase, knowing she’d need it to drag her hulking suitcases through the airport and customs. Unzipping her bag, she found a wheel and yanked the contraption out.
Parker eyed her cart. “Good idea.” He extricated a black wheeled suitcase from the moving track. A moment later, the last tapestry bag—better known as “the monstrosity”—zipped around the bend, but Casey had her arm deep inside the first suitcase searching for the Bungee chord she used to hold the luggage to the cart, so she couldn’t get to it.
“Wait, my other bag!”
Parker rescued the monstrosity from the carousel before it passed by, biceps straining with the effort. So there was a good reason to pack the kitchen sink after all!
“I believe this is yours.” He grunted. “What do you have in here?”
Casey was too enthralled with the memory of his muscles bunching to answer, so Parker dropped her bag rather close to her nose, seeming a tad annoyed. Bungee in hand, Casey straightened and smiled. “Thanks! And I’ll never tell.”
“Tell what?”
“What’s in the bag.”
“State secrets?” Parker’s grin was stunning, nearly knocking Casey off her feet from the impact. But she swore there’d be no more falling off of feet this trip, and there would definitely be no more public displays of her telekinesis.
“Yes indeed. Confidential.”
Coming July 2007 to New Concepts Publishing!
