Part 14 (2/2)

”Gift?” She wanted to laugh at that one. ”It's an ability, nothing more. I thought empaths were commonplace in your time.”

”Empaths exist, sure. But that doesn't mean I know all about them or how it

works. I don't happen to know any personally. Until now.”

Was he asking? She didn't know how she felt about explaining it to him. It was such a new experience, being treated so naturally. It made her feel oddly vulnerable, probably because he knew more about her, the real her, than anyone, and yet he was a total stranger to her.

He c.o.c.ked his head to the side, a grin making his dimple wink at her. ”A real battle going on in there.”

”What?”

”You really want to believe we're making all this up.” He took another step closer. ”Only maybe, just maybe, the idea that it might be true thrills you a little. Doesn't it?” He took another step closer, and the air seemed to thicken, even though it was cooler now. ”I think you want to believe there is a place where you fit in.” He stopped a mere foot away. ”You aren't all that well understood in this time, are you, Talia?”

Dear G.o.d, did he have to go and use her name like that? There was something about the way he said it, and it didn't have everything to do with that flat Aussie accent, either.

”I can understand that, you know,” he went on. ”I know what it is to be a

misfit.”

She had a sudden fleeting sensation of that dark hollowness she'd almost touched. No, they weren't remotely the same, no matter that they were both

essentially loners in their respective worlds. She worked to put a sardonic edge to her tone. ”I guess your line of work doesn't exactly come rife with pals and coworkers, huh?”

He smiled, that c.o.c.keyed half-smile that deepened the little cleft in his chin.

”Not so you would notice, no. But I was a misfit long before I found my walk in life. I imagine the same could be said of you. In fact, we probably both found our callings because we didn't fit in, wouldn't you say?”

She wanted to tell him to stop comparing himself to her, stop saying they were anything alike. But he'd moved even closer, somehow robbing her of what little rational thought she had left. She could only nod in response.

”And what about you? What about those pals and coworkers? Is there no one you trust with your secret?”

”Secret?” she managed. He was far too close.

”You don't tell anyone, do you?” He didn't give her a chance to answer. ”Is it because you fear they'll abandon you? Or simply think you're odd in the head?”

She smiled without thinking about it, then swallowed hard as she saw his eyes leap to life in response to it. She did try to move away, but he lifted his hand and gently brushed back a loose strand of hair that was dancing about in the night breeze.

”I do understand, Talia Trahaern. Everyone knows who we are as defined by our careers. We share that part of ourselves because it benefits us to do so. But we both have secrets, you and I, the things we keep locked in here.” He let the tendril drop and grazed the back of his fingertips across her heart.

”And I think your heart is more tender than you are willing to admit.”

He moved his hand away, and she had to catch herself from leaning forward.

He turned her hands palm up, cupped in his own. He was looking down at

them as he spoke. ”You don't give them names because you'll lose part of your heart to them if you do.” He glanced up into her eyes, then dropped her hands.

”And you can't risk your heart again, can you? Not ever.”

The hollow look she'd seen in his eyes during that brief glance brought her directly back to that instant she'd connected with him. Some part of her heart tightened before she pulled loose, both physically and emotionally. So they both kept their hearts safely tucked away. That was certainly a good thing.

She put some s.p.a.ce between them, but had to clear her throat to speak. ”I don't give them names for the logical reason that naming a pet should be the right of the owner, a bond made between them. No point in confusing the poor thing by giving it something to recognize only to have someone come along and change it.” He wasn't looking at her, which should have made her little speech easier, but it didn't. ”You better than anyone understand I have a special attachment to every animal here, whether I wish to or not. So naming them is of little consequence when it comes to risking my emotions.” Which was true, to a point.

That half-smile, the knowing one that made her feel naked and exposed,

returned. But mercifully, he kept his hands to himself. ”So defensive.”

She had to stop herself from crossing her arms over her chest. ”You were the one poking and prodding. I was merely trying to answer you.”

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