CHAPTER TWO

      RANDI LOVED ATTENDING galas at the Kennedy Center, especially when they were honoring a well-known humanitarian who deserved the award. Since her parents were still out of the country, she was attending with Trey and Haywood and her godbrother and her cousin, Zach and Anna. It was a dressy affair, and she’d enjoyed going shopping to buy what she thought was the perfect outfit.

      She glanced around, remembering the first time she’d come here. It was with her parents and paternal grandparents when the Kennedy Center had honored the Performing Arts. She’d been eight at the time and had been starstruck, not only by the performances but also by the notoriety of her father. That night, she realized Randolph Fuller might be Daddy to her, but to others he was a world-renowned defense attorney. She had been amazed at the number of people who’d admired her father and whose lives he’d touched.

      She couldn’t help noticing how close Trey was sticking by her side tonight and was about to ask why when she remembered Haywood’s heads-up that Larry and his wife might make an appearance. Since she wasn’t supposed to be privy to that information, she had no choice but to let him play the role of big brother and protector.

      “You okay?” Trey leaned down and asked her for what seemed like the tenth time that night. It was intermission and they’d stepped out into the lobby. She was glad to see so many people were in attendance. Security was high due to the number of celebrities and dignitaries in attendance, including the President.

      “Any reason why I wouldn’t be, Trey?” she asked, reaching up and giving him a sisterly pinch on the cheek.

      “None that I can think of.”

      Yeah, right. She glanced over at Haywood, who looked as though she was trying hard to keep a straight face. “I guess it’s time to go back to our seats,” she said. At that moment, Trey and Zach left Haywood’s and Anna’s sides to flank hers.

      “Good evening, everyone.”

      Randi recognized the masculine voice immediately. Glancing up, she took in Larry’s face as well as the woman by his side. His wife.

      * * *

      THERE IS A big crowd tonight, Quasar thought, glancing around the huge lobby. The celebrities and dignitaries sitting in the balcony areas were now mingling upstairs. He was posted by the bank of elevators to make certain that only those with VIP passes got past him. Several young women had tried him, all but offering him a hot night in their beds if he looked the other way for a minute so they could sneak up to socialize with the rich and famous. Of course he’d turned down their offers. They would have to hobnob on someone else’s time. He had a job to do.

      He glanced around, not for the first time admiring the beauty of the inside of the Kennedy Center. The decor was colorful with beautiful, gigantic chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, which gave the lobby an intrinsic charm. His attention went to the huge bust of President John F. Kennedy. He recalled the first time he’d come here and seen it. He’d been around ten at the time, and his mother had brought him for his first tour of DC.

      His mother.

      Not for the first time, he wondered how different things might have been had cancer not claimed her at forty. He’d been fourteen, and a part of him would forever feel the loss. His life had gone downhill after that. With his mother gone, there was no one to protect him from Louis’s verbal abuse or Doyle’s bullying. At some point, his godmother, Lucinda, had stepped in, giving him the love and support he’d desperately needed and wasn’t getting at home.

      Checking his watch, he noted intermission would end in ten minutes. Already the crowds were dispersing as individuals began leaving the lobby to return to their seats. In a few hours he would be able to go back to his hotel and rid himself of the suit and tie. He’d decided to take advantage of Roland’s offer and stay in town until Sunday. He’d contacted Ryker, and they would be hanging out on Sunday. Tomorrow he would take in the sights. The last time he’d been in DC, he’d been with Striker and Stonewall. They’d eaten breakfast at a café in Georgetown, and he planned to revisit it tomorrow morning.

      Several crowds lining the lobby floor shifted, and suddenly his breath caught. He did a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Standing across the room was the one woman he’d assumed he would never see again, although he’d hoped otherwise. The woman who’d stolen her way into his thoughts for the past three months. Dr. Randi Fuller. Psychic investigator extraordinaire.

      He studied her profile, willing her to turn ever so slightly. Then he would know for certain it was her and not a figment of his imagination. She was standing in a group. Friends of hers, he assumed. Or was one of the men standing so close to her side more than a friend? A lover, perhaps? The thought of her involved with someone tightened his gut.

      She looked beautiful, and her gown flattered her body in a way that had every cell in his body responding to her curves. A deep sexual hunger surged to life within him, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. How could a woman he didn’t know arouse him to a degree no other woman ever had? And why did the very thought that they were standing under the same roof practically thicken the air flowing through his lungs?

      What were the odds that he would see her again? Here? Tonight? Was she a resident of DC? Or was she, like him, just in town for the gala? More than once he’d been tempted to research her, to see what he could find. But to do so would put too much importance on the night he’d seen her and the connection he’d felt, so he hadn’t. Now a part of him wished he had.

      Then he wouldn’t have been wondering where she lived. Where had she grown up? Was her family as fucked-up as his? Did she have a lover? He continued to look at her while those questions went through his mind.

      He was about to force his gaze away, fix it on something else—like that huge bust of President Kennedy—when something happened to halt those plans. As if she felt the caress of his gaze, she tilted her head in a way he thought was sexy as hell, such a damn turn-on. And then, as if she had a sensor detecting his exact location, she looked over at him.

      * * *

      RANDI DREW IN a sharp breath when something akin to an electric current passed between her and the man standing across the lobby.

      Quasar Patterson.

      Where had he come from? Why hadn’t she detected his presence before now? And why was she tempted to leave everyone standing right here and cross the room to him? She then quickly remembered one of the things Gramma Mattie stressed in the vision. He had to make the first overture.

      “I guess we’ll head back our seats now,” Larry was saying. “It was good seeing you again, Randi.”

      She quickly broke eye contact with Quasar to look at Larry. “Same here.” Giving Larry’s wife a gracious smile, she said, “And it was good meeting you, Yvette.”

      “You, too, Randi. I hope everyone enjoys the rest of the show.”

      When the couple walked off, Randi quickly returned her gaze to Quasar. He was standing in the same spot, staring at her. He looked blatantly male, handsome as sin in a dark suit. He broke eye contact with her when a well-dressed, very attractive woman approached him. It was obvious the woman wanted to use one of the elevators, and he was denying her the right to do so. It then occurred to Randi why he was here. He was part of the security detail. When the woman walked off, Quasar returned his gaze