The vision vanished.
Kneeling beside him, Dana fought to keep her breath regular. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her pulse raced as arousal slithered through her body.
Still in the massage chair, Aidan reached up with the hand he had removed from her grasp and rubbed the back of his neck.
Dana stared at him, glad the face cushion blocked his view of her. She hadn’t moaned or gasped or anything like that, had she? What the hell had that been?
It certainly hadn’t been a vision of the past. So… what? Her gift was telling her that she and Aidan were going to be lovers?
Aidan lowered his arm to the armrest.
But Dana didn’t move.
What was happening here? Visions never came to her this clearly. And it had happened twice now with Aidan.
“Everything okay?” he asked, no doubt wondering why she had ceased the massage.
Was his voice a little deeper than it had been before?
“Yes,” she said, but sounded shaken even to herself. “Everything’s fine.”
“Should I not have moved?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to break the flow of things.”
Hell, if he hadn’t broken the flow of things, the vision would’ve likely continued and let her see and feel them making love until she orgasmed. It had felt that real.
“No. It’s fine.” Except she was afraid to touch him again. Even though she really wanted to touch him again. Holy crap, his hand and lips had felt good on her. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time. And Aidan’s touch had electrified her.
“Did you see something again?” he asked when she didn’t resume the massage.
“No,” she lied. What was she supposed to say? Actually, yes. I saw the two of us naked on a bed about to have what looked and felt like it would be hot, sweaty, never-want-it-to-end, never-felt-this-way-in-my-life sex.
Yeah, right. And have him think her a total perv who only used the massage thing as an excuse to fondle her clients while she fantasized about having sex with them? I don’t think so.
“I was just going to move to the other side,” she said, forcing a light, friendly tone. Rising, she moved to his other side and stared down at his strong shoulder.
“You’re worried I’m going to break your chair, aren’t you?” he asked. “Is it creaking beneath my weight?”
She smiled, relaxing a bit. “No.” Taking a deep breath, she lifted his arm and rested it in the crook of her own.
No naked flashes. No visions of his mouth on her breast.
Dana began to manipulate his shoulder, breathing a little easier every second she didn’t have another vision. Get it together, she counseled herself again and rushed through the rest of the massage. “All done,” she pronounced.
Aidan sat up, rolling his broad shoulders. “Can’t remember the last time anything felt so good.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” She motioned to the comfy chairs in the corner. “Would you please have a seat over there?”
“As you will.”
When he rose, towering over her, she studiously kept her gaze from dropping below his waist. She wasn’t sure how she would react if the massage had aroused him as much as that vision had aroused her, so she thought it better to leave that a mystery.
As he seated himself in one of the chairs, she reached up and retrieved a box from the top shelf of the bookcase. Carrying it with her, Dana sat in the chair opposite him and placed the box on the table between them.
She felt his gaze like a touch as she opened the box and withdrew her tarot cards. Placing the box aside, she glanced up. “Would you shuffle the cards, please?”
Nodding, he complied. “Since your gift stems from touch, do these really help you? Or do you use them because your clients expect it?”
The words carried no sarcasm, only curiosity.
“A little of both. If I tell them what I see when I touch them, they have only my words. If I tell them what I see in the cards, they have a visual confirmation of sorts.”
“Seeing is believing,” he murmured.
“For many, yes.”
Aidan watched Dana lay the cards on the table one by one. He nodded and feigned interest as she explained what each card meant but in truth had difficulty concentrating.
His heart still hammered against his ribs. His pulse raced. His body burned.
If seeing was believing, then he might have at last found the woman for whom he had been searching. Because Dana had seen the two of them engaging in love play.
Aidan’s telepathy enabled him to read her thoughts. So he had seen it as vividly as she had. Had felt it, too, and been so swept away that he had had to break contact with her to bring the vision to an end while he fought the desire to dive off her odd chair and reenact the scene with her.
“Do your visions always come true?” he asked, interrupting her explanation of the chariot card. “The ones of the future?”
She hesitated. “More often than not I don’t so much see things as know them. My client will ask me a question and—”
“But when you do see them? When you do have visions? Do those visions always come true?”
Color invaded her cheeks as she ducked her chin and dealt another card. “Yes. They always have in the past.”
Elation filled him. Not just because she had answered him truthfully even though the question clearly flustered her. But because they would be lovers.
Lovers and something more?
It took every ounce of concentration to keep his eyes from glowing. Younger immortals couldn’t prevent the involuntary response. Any deep emotion, good or bad, tended to make their eyes glow vibrant amber, something that immediately tipped off mortals that they weren’t human. But Aidan was quite old and had more control over the response.
She frowned, her blush fading. “It looks like you have a very formidable enemy in your future, Aidan.”
He grunted. “In my business, I tend to attract them like flies.”
Dana shook her head. “This one is different.”
She must mean Gershom. That powerful bastard was determined to kick-start Armageddon. And the Immortal Guardians were having a hell of a time bringing his arse down.
She set the cards aside and reached across the table. “Let me see your hand.”
Eager to touch her again, he extended it toward her.
Taking it in her own, she turned it palm up. “You have a very long lifeline.”
His should be the longest lifeline she had ever seen.
Her brown eyes flickered up to meet his. “You’ve lived much of your life alone.”
He shrugged. “I’ve had friends. Men I consider brothers.”
“But no wife?”
“I haven’t been so fortunate, no.”
And she could feel the loneliness that plagued him. He saw it in her thoughts and felt a little lighter when she wondered how the hell that could be possible, having experienced a tiny hint of the passion he could bring a woman in her vision.