Knock, knock... (27 page)

She sighed. "That you don't answer speaks more than real words."

"Does it?" his strangled voice made her laugh.

"Yes, it does." She grinned. "I'll take it we're somewhere between friends and something more?" She looked directly at him.

"Agreed." He nodded immediately, and she laughed.

"Good. That's on both sides. Where we go from here is our choice. We appear to be at a crossroads. I can't go forward unless you believe in me. And I can't share what happened tonight unless you have an open mind. A
really
open mind." She gazed out the window for a long moment. "Like Stefan has. He is the one person who I trust over anything and everyone."

At the slight twist to his lips, she paused. "And considering that we might be heading toward the more-than-friends side of life..." Was it just yesterday that she said she wasn't going there again? Anyway, she focused on his narrowed gaze and that eerie stillness, and finished with, "Stefan and I are friends. Only friends...we've
never
been lovers. I love him like a brother and trust him with my life."

His lips untwisted into a warm smile. "Thank you for sharing that with me," he said with sincerity in his voice. "You're blessed to have that relationship with him."

She couldn't help it. She chuckled. "It comes with its own set of problems. He can read your thoughts, jump into your mind, see what you're feeling, and that's just for starters."

"So he's really…psychic?" Roman asked.

"Oh he is." She leaned back slightly, losing the hint of humor that had kept the conversation light. "And that's one of the things I need you to believe. Stefan
is
," she stressed, and then continued, "the real thing." She took a deep breath. "And so am I."

Late Monday evening…

T
here it was.
The answer to that very question he'd been wondering about.

Roman turned his head, his gaze pinning her in place. She looked so normal, beautiful even though exhausted – but she also appeared to be calm. She lounged on the couch so casually after dropping a fairly important bit of information.

And indeed, her claim wasn't exactly a claim everyone would make.

"Oh." Not very intellectual but it's all he could think of to say.

She nodded her head. "Yeah." She shrugged. "It's not a term I think of when I consider my abilities. But that's what the world calls it."

"What
would
you call it?"

"I'd prefer intuitive, maybe energy specialist. I do a lot of different stuff, but most of it…only rarely." She shrugged. "As my abilities defy categorization, I try to avoid doing so myself."

"And can you do all that Stefan can?" He knew some about Stefan's telepathic abilities and mind reading from Dr. Maddy, and he wanted to ask if she could read his mind too, but at the same time, he desperately didn't want to know the answer. The humiliation, if she discovered his secret, would be too much.

"No. Not at all."

Thank heavens for that. He took a deep sigh and released the breath he’d been holding.

She laughed. "I'm not a mind reader, if that's what you're worried about."

"Then what do you
do
?" he asked curiously.

A self-deprecating smile slid off her lips. "I read energy. I can see where people are coming from, see how they use their energy, and see what they use their energy for. If they are the kind to cheat others, their energy will tell me. It they are the type to cheat on their wives, I'll usually be able to see it. And that is just for starters."

"Wow." He didn't know what to say. An interesting concept. He could see why she used the term intuitive, as much of what she saw others would intuit from body language, facial expressions, and even nuances in a voice. And he had to admit it was a relief that she couldn't read his mind.

But what
could
she see of him? He decided to ask, remembering Stefan's words on insights.

"And what do you see…with me?"

She shook her head. "I make it a policy to not delve too deeply with people I know. I use my skills to administer the foundation money as well as I can." She sighed. "It's a problem with friends. Whether it's me being afraid of reading too much into the issue or not being detached enough, I find it difficult to read my friends."

"Good. I think." But it didn’t answer what he really wanted to know. And damn it, he really wanted to know. He took the plunge. "Stefan mentioned something about you having interesting insights into my artwork. Is that the type of stuff you can pick up?"

She waved her hand around. "Stefan told you that? Interesting." She shrugged. "It's not much. I just saw how much you related to your model. That she's your muse. Your passion." She hesitated. "That's why I'm surprised you're interested in me. The way I see it, you're madly in love with her."

Madly in love with her.

With his model. With Shay. She could see
that
?

He sat back on his heels. Rocked by the revelation.

His heart sighed at a sad lonely truth. Though he hadn’t admitted it, he'd been in love with her for a long time
.
His mind filled with images he'd poured over to get everything about her, down just right. The curve of her shoulder as he painted it, the long smooth strokes making the skin glow like it was meant to. He'd tried to paint other models, women, children. He'd even tried to get into landscapes. And he hadn't managed any creative energy at all.

Was that why?
He was painting the object of an unrequited love. God, that made him sound like a schoolboy. Or worse – a teenager.

"I'm sorry."

He quickly turned his head back to face her.

"I didn't mean to bring up a painful topic. It's not like I was reading energy or anything, it's just that it was obvious to me that you were obsessed with her. In a good way," she added hurriedly.

"Obsessed."
Interesting… Was he?

Absolutely.
What else could he call it? He'd given into the need to paint her two years ago then had worked up the nerve to contact her. Bad timing on his part as her fiancée had just passed away. Still, he'd stayed always there, slowly building the relationship until he could get back to Portland. Hoping she'd be ready for him. That he hadn't been able to paint anything different since that first canvas
might
be viewed as an obsession.

"That she is the other half to your heart." Shay sounded distant, hurt…insecure.

And he got it.

Oh God.
And how did
that
work? He had been trying to get Shay to move forward with this relationship, and she’d assumed what, that he'd lost his heart to the model? That she was his second choice? A poor one at that?

He couldn't possibly have seen this coming. Who could?

"So, I don't want to know what happened between the two of you, but I am sorry."

"Sorry?" He felt disconnected. As if he were hearing the conversation from a long distance away.

"She's obviously unavailable to you for some reason."

He blinked.
Say what?

She flushed. "I'm getting personal, again I'm sorry. Forget I said that."

She went to stand up, and he tugged her back down. "Please, finish what you were going to say."

Troubled, she said, "It's just that I feel like you've always admired, loved this woman from afar. The paintings are stunning. But the woman was distant. As if your love was never recognized. You never had a chance to fully experience that passion. You painted it on the canvas because you couldn't have it, have her in your life – in your heart."

He sat back. Oblivious to everything but the second truth bomb she'd just dropped. How could she possibly know all that? Especially when he hadn't seen it that clearly himself.

And even worse. How could he ever explain that she was the model? She was the one he pined for? That he loved.

And now he was certain – Shay
was
the other half of his heart.

***

Shay studied the shock on his face. He really hadn't known it. How could that be? And if he hadn't known it, then he wasn't ready to move on with another relationship. And maybe that was a good thing. With the mess going on in her world, she didn’t need another complication. And Roman was complicated. Even as they spoke, his energy curled up next to her. Twining into her own energy. Wanting to be close. To her.

Wanting to be with her though a part of him was unsure. Was it his own feelings causing that hesitancy or was he uncertain about his welcome?

That lack of clarity made her uneasy.

And the one truth she'd always believed was that energy never lied. But people did.

So, for whatever reason his mind might be stuck on his model, his heart and his energy from his heart, said he was ready for so much more.

Stefan had said it was time. When he’d told her, she didn’t agree. She was still unsure. But Stefan trusted Roman. And if she trusted one thing for sure, it was Stefan. His judgment. His ethics. His understanding beyond what she knew. And that knowing she could trust him brought her some relief––she had to trust
someone
.

Besides, Stefan had inner knowledge about her supposed time for a relationship that he hadn't shared. And he wouldn't give her any more information at this point – suggesting free will and all that.

She mentally knocked on Stefan's mind – and found it locked against her. She sighed. Now what was he up to?

"Problems?"

"Stefan isn't answering," she said absently.

"And you know this how?" His extremely neutral tone of voice alerted her.

She turned to look at him. "Remember about that whole belief stuff? Well, I just knocked on Stefan's mind to see if he was home. I planned to ask him why the hell he contacted you when I'm fine."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shook his head and said, "Was he so wrong? Weren't you
not
fine a few moments ago? You said you woke up on the living floor. Surely that's not normal."

"He's rarely wrong. But that doesn't mean he's thinking the same way I am." She closed her eyes and mentally reached out for Stefan again. "He's still not there."

"I think, from what I understood, he couldn't be with you because he was going after someone."

"The black smoke. Right I remember now," she whispered as the memory of being smothered in dark nasty energy overwhelmed her. "I wonder if he can get the answers we need."

"Black smoke? If he can
what
?"

She didn't answer.

Roman leaned forward and placed a gentle hand under her chin and tilting it up so he could see her eyes. "Tell me."

Taking a deep breath, she broke the code of silence she'd kept all of her life. And she told him exactly what she knew about tonight.

He sat back and listened quietly. Not judging.

For that she was grateful.

She ventured a glance up at him. He was still studying her quietly. She dropped her gaze and sighed inwardly. What had she expected? Understanding? Acceptance?

She should be grateful his energy hadn’t whipped back to wrap tightly around his body. Instead it stayed, shimmering up against her energy.

"You know how farfetched all this sounds?"

It was the thin thread of amusement in his voice that had her head coming up sharply.

"Oh yes," she said softly, a tiny smile playing at her lips. "I do. It must sound totally crazy."

He sat back, crossed his arms. "You mean what you say, but I hope you won't mind if I ask Stefan to confirm this?"

She laughed. "Ask away."

"Well, I'll have to call him."

"Don't bother. He's here now." And sure enough, Stefan's warm laughter flitted through her mind. "Go ahead and ask him. He'll answer."

Roman laughed, disbelieving. "Sure, but you'll be telling me what he said so that won't help any."

Oh boy
. She grinned. "Do you really want to know the truth? Deep inside? Do you want to know if any of this woohoo stuff is real?"

"You're talking about proving it to me?"

"Yes." She laughed. "That's what I'm suggesting." She tilted her head. "So yes or no?"

He lifted his shoulders then dropped them. "Sure. Go for it."

Inside she laughed.
Go for it, Stefan. Let's make a believer of him. We could use a few more good guys.

Her mind was instantly empty, no more Stefan. She sat back to watch.

Roman sat bolt upright, his face went slack, and if the color could be wiped off in a single stroke, that's what it looked like.