undermine their every male maneuver or be aware of their every planned move. Although I try assuring them that’s not how my gift works, they don’t believe me.”
His jaw tightened. “Any insecure, weak-minded man would think that way.”
She placed her cup down. “Should I assume you don’t fall in that category?”
He smiled warmly. “I don’t consider you a freak or a threat. I admire you and your gift and have seen firsthand how remarkable it is. You assist law enforcement in saving lives and getting hard criminals off the streets. I don’t want to think of the outcome had you not alerted the authorities about that assassin’s next move. Your psychic powers should be commended, not scrutinized.”
She smiled, please by his words. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, pushing his cup of coffee aside. “But there is something I would like to ask of you.”
“What?”
“Would you spend the rest of the day with me?”
Randi’s stomach fluttered at the same time she felt her heart rate kick up a beat. “The rest of the day? ”
“Yes.”
“Why would you want to spend the rest of day with me, Quasar?”
He smiled, and the fluttering in her stomach increased. “Because I’m not ready for our time together to end. I have nothing else to do today and would love spending more time with you.”
She considered him for a moment, trying not to get giddy because of what he’d said. “What do you have in mind?”
“We could visit that new museum, for starters. And no matter how often I come to DC, I enjoy visiting the National Zoological Park. I understand two new pandas were added since I was here last.”
When she didn’t say anything, he leaned forward. “One day, Randi, is all I’m asking for,” he said softly.
Would that really be all? she wondered. What if he invited her to his hotel room at the end of the day? She would decline, of course. It would be as simple as that. But then, nothing about the strength of their attraction to each other was simple.
Randi met his gaze, felt the heat of his desire but refused to be overtaken by it. She had to keep a clear head. Drawing in a shaky breath, she said, “Okay, Quasar. I’ll spend the day with you.”
* * *
RANDI SURMISED QUASAR was a touchy-feely person since he liked touching her every chance he got. While at the museum, his hand had stayed at the center of her back as they viewed one painting after another. At the zoo, as if it was the most natural thing, he’d taken her hand in his. The contact caused all kinds of heated sensations to cascade through her body and made her even more aware of him.
More than once she found herself studying Quasar instead of the animals at the zoo. Whenever he looked back at her, she would quickly avert her gaze. She figured he knew she was checking him out, but she hadn’t been the only one. Other women, both young and old, were eyeing him, as well. Some inconspicuously and others openly.
And then there was that bold, heavy-breasted woman in the tight jeans and too-revealing top who seemed to appear wherever they went. Randi thought she was stalking them, and that suspicion proved true when the woman finally got the nerve to approach and ask Quasar if he was some actor from one of the soaps. Even when he took off his aviator sunglasses and assured her he wasn’t, she tried flirting with him right in front of Randi.
Randi couldn’t help but admire how Quasar shut the brazen woman down by letting her know he was annoyed with her lack of respect for his girlfriend and she should take her bullshit elsewhere. Of course she wasn’t his girlfriend, and Randi knew the lie had been told mainly to get the woman out their faces. He had spoken to the woman in Spanish and afterward, apparently assuming Randi didn’t understand the language, had given her a cleaner version of what he’d said. She decided not to tell him she spoke fluent Spanish and had understood what he’d said. What mattered was that what he’d told the woman had worked, since they never ran into her again after that.
Randi looked at him as they walked from one habitat to another while holding hands. His hair fell to his shoulders, and more than once today she was tempted to reach out and run her fingers through the silky strands, wondering again about his ethnicity, especially since he’d spoken Spanish earlier.
Deciding to satisfy her curiosity, she asked, “Where is your family from originally?”
He glanced over at her and smiled. “Depends on what side. My mother’s parents are from Cuba. They were Afro-Cubans who fled the Castro regime years ago. They made it to the United States just in time. My grandmother gave birth to my mother a couple of days after their arrival in Miami.”
“So she was born an American.”
“Yes. My father is white and is proud to claim a little bit of Irish in his blood.”
Intrigued, she asked, “How did your parents meet?”
They stopped at the monkey pen and watched as the animals scampered about when other people tossed them peanuts. “Like many Cubans, my grandparents settled in Florida. Years later after finishing high school, my mother decided to attend college in Los Angeles. While at UCLA, she met a young woman by the name of Lucinda Coker, and they became the best of friends. My mother was introduced to Lucinda’s cousin Louis, and the rest is history.”
Randi nodded. She always enjoyed hearing a good love story. “Are your grandparents still living in Florida?”
He shook his head. “No, they both passed away years ago.”
Then, as if he wanted to change the subject, he asked, “Want to grab something to eat before we take the trolley back to our cars?”
Instead of driving either of their cars, they had taken one of the DC sightseeing tour trolleys. It was great since it allowed them to hop on and off at various sites. “Yes. That would be nice.”
It was getting close to five, and she had gotten hungry. Other than grabbing a few snacks from vending machines, they hadn’t eaten a meal since breakfast. When she left that morning, she’d told everyone she was meeting a friend for breakfast. After agreeing to extend her time with Quasar, she had texted Haywood that she wouldn’t be returning until around six or so that evening. Other than telling her to enjoy herself, no one asked the identity of the friend, and she hadn’t provided any information.
“How about you suggesting a place we can grab a bite to eat this time?” Quasar asked.
She smiled up at him. “What about Marlon’s Seafood? Their crab cakes are to die for.”
He chuckled. “So you’ve got a taste for seafood, huh?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to confess that what she really had a taste for was him, but she figured that would be too scandalous. Her body had felt like it was in heat most of the day. Just being with Quasar Patterson set off intense desire. This was a unique experience for her. One she intended to take full advantage of...within reason. She was a woman, and as far as she was concerned, there was nothing wrong with appreciating a good-looking man who could fill out a pair of jeans like he did.
