Marked. Lydia Parks
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across that connection suggested an upcoming invitation to a movie or dinner, or maybe more.
She reminded herself that she didn’t need a man in her life, no matter how good-looking. The last boyfriend had been more trouble than he was worth. She liked keeping her life easy.
Still, Cole might be worth a little trouble.
He lowered his beer. “How was your day?”
Was he too shy to just ask her out? Or was she wrong about the vibes?
“Okay. Hospital’s a little busy this time of year, but not impossible. How was yours?”
He nodded. “Fine.”
She waited but he didn’t elaborate. Instead, he stared at her necklace. She raised her hand to finger the metal twisted long ago into strange symbols. The action yanked his eyes back to hers.
Alicia lowered her beer to her lap and settled back on the sofa. Cole drank again, sipping this time, and he glanced around her apartment.
She waited.
Finally, he placed the bottle on the coffee table, leaned forward with his elbows on his jean-clad thighs and clasped his hands, lacing his fingers. “I must tell you something.”
“Yeah?” She shrugged. “Okay, shoot.”
“It’ll probably be hard for you to believe.”
“Okay.” Strange opening line, but he had her attention.
He suddenly rose from the chair and stepped around the coffee table to cross the room. With his back to her, he stood perfectly still and stared out her front window. All he could see from there was the parking lot and the side of the next building, but he watched as if a parade were passing.
“I know you were raised by your grandmother,” he said.
Had she told him? She didn’t remember having a conversation with him about her grandmother.
“Her name was Mildred Ortiz,” he continued, “and she was from the Ohkay Owinge Pueblo.”
“You knew my grandmother?” An uncomfortable warmth spread down her back. Had he been spying on her for some reason? If so, why?
He turned to face her, but remained across the room. “Your mother’s name is Pearl. You were told your father died in a vehicle accident when you were three years old. Your mother, lost in her grief, left you with your grandmother and disappeared. You haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
Cole wasn’t here to ask her out, and he had definitely been spying on her. Her throat tightened and a sour knot started in her stomach.
“Why—?” She swallowed hard. “How do you know so much?”
“Alicia,” he said in a purposely soothing voice. “I’m not here to frighten you.”
No? He was doing a fairly good job of it.
“Then why the hell are you here?”
“To tell you the truth about who you are.”
Where should he start? How would he convince her?
Cole sat in the chair, gripping the arms, fighting the desire to pace. He listened to water run, and then the bathroom door open. Alicia returned to the living room looking even more wary than when she’d excused herself.
She eased onto the sofa, watching him, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth.
Cole stared at her mouth and imagined her under him, her eyelids heavy with passion, her lips parted. A ripple of desire ran through him.
He must stop thinking about her this way. She wasn’t some potential mate, or even a woman he could bed and leave. She might be the only hope for the future of his people.
This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. One thing he’d discovered about those on the outside was that they didn’t connect with the Earth anymore. So few of them believed in possibilities beyond their experiences, or even wondered what might be. Instead, they focused on their electronic, high-speed worlds and thought their futures would survive through technology.
“You said I was told my father died in a car crash. Is he still alive?”
He admired the fire in her emerald eyes, even when flashing suspicion. “No, he’s dead.”
“But?”
“But he wasn’t the man you think he was.”
She frowned. “My father was Joseph Ortiz. He was—”
“Your father’s name was Lorne. He was…like me.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, like you?”
Cole let his gaze sweep quickly over her body. She had skin the color of potent earth, smoothed by water, dusted by wind, and holding the promise of the sun’s warmth. Her long black hair she wore pulled back, but shorter strands outlined her face like an artist’s brushstrokes. She was beauty born of both nature and man, and her soul whispered to him.
His gaze returned to hers. “I come from a place few people outside know of.”
“Where?”
“I can’t tell you that, but it isn’t far. When you’re ready, I’ll take you there.”
Her brow furrowed, and she stood.
He also rose and stepped closer to her, leaving only an arm’s length between them. “It’s a place where—”
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.”
“What makes you think I’d go anywhere with you, much less to some secret place?” She crossed her arms.
Standing so close, it was all he could do not to draw her to him and take her tempting mouth. “I hope I can convince you to trust me.”
Her gaze snapped to his and stayed there, unblinking, as though she were reaching inside him, studying his soul, measuring his worth. He saw her strength, felt it in his mind, and he suddenly believed she was the hope for his people.
“What difference does it make who my father was?” she asked.
“Your father was one of the leaders of my people who devoted his life to helping others.”
She waited.
He had to risk it. “I hope to convince you to follow in his footsteps.”
Her eyes slowly widened. “Me?”
Cole nodded.
Alicia shook her head as if to loosen stray thoughts. “This is too much.” She stepped around him and crossed the room. “I’ve heard some pretty good lines, but this one’s out there. I think you should go now. I’ve got stuff to do.”
He followed her to the front where she waited, holding the door open.
“Alicia—”
She raised one hand. “Look, I had a long day at work. I’m tired. Please go.”
He could tell by the set of her mouth and the disappearance of her hospitality that this wasn’t the time to argue the point. Nodding, he walked past her, trying his best not to notice her scent. “Thank you for the beer.”
She closed the door as soon as he crossed the threshold.
He stood in the breezeway, filling his lungs with dry New Mexico air, easily sorting out diesel fumes, grilling pork, wild rosemary and honeysuckle. A faint hint of rain raised goose bumps in his flesh. He loved the way it smelled in The Valley when clouds built over the Jemez Mountains. Everyone always moved a little faster and smiled a little more, knowing the cool rain would soon fall. Were they gathering around an evening fire now, waiting for thunder to fill the canyon, looking for potential mates with whom to share