pick you up at the end of the day?
“Why?”
I want to buy something to wear for my date. She didn’t own anything but jeans, yoga pants, and T-shirts. She’d already gotten permission from Verna to take off a little early. Actually, Verna had insisted.
“Maybe we could go shopping together and have dinner out afterward?” Her mother’s brows rose hopefully.
Yes, that would be fun. She grinned.
Chapter Five
Cassie looked more beautiful than Psy remembered, and he’d thought about her plenty. Her hair, released from its braid, tumbled like a glossy, brunette curtain almost to her waist. Her eyes appeared greener, her lashes thicker and more lustrous. A black-and-white top left one smooth shoulder bare and clung to her breasts. White slacks, ending below the knee, molded her thighs and left trim ankles bare. Cute little toes, the nails painted mauve, peeked out of flat strappy sandals.
He dragged his gaze away to focus on her mother. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Steward.” He smiled and shook the woman’s hand as Chameleon’s mate had instructed him to do when he met the parents. The ’Topians had been on Earth for about six months, but they were still learning local customs.
“It’s miss, but call me Rosalie. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s wonderful to meet you,” she gushed. Emerald eyes creased with a welcoming smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your last name.”
“I only have one—Psy.”
“I guess there aren’t so many Psys that you could get them confused. What is it you do for a living?” she asked.
“I’m a consultant with Mysk Industries.”
She pursed her lips. “Impressive!”
The well-known tech magnate Edwin Mysk had made a name for himself with his futuristic vision and inventions. Not known was that he was a Verital who’d fled ’Topia the same time as the castaways, but due to the anomalies of jump space, had landed on Earth fifty years ago. When the castaways arrived, Mysk had put them on the payroll, advising them to say they were consultants if asked about their occupations.
Rosalie nodded approvingly. “I’ll bet the job pays well.”
Cassie sliced the air with her hand.
Her mother appeared unfazed. “If you weren’t going to ask him, then I needed to.” She smiled at Psy. “Where are my manners—could I get you a drink? Would you like to sit down?” She gestured to the sofa.
Cassie scribbled furiously and shoved the notebook in her mother’s face.
Rosalie glanced at it and sighed. “My daughter says you have to leave. She thinks I talk too much. I’m so glad I got to meet you. You must come for dinner some night.”
Cassie’s eyes flashed and, before he could reply, she grabbed his arm and hustled him out the door. On the walk, she wrote in her notebook. Sorry about that.
“It wasn’t bad,” he reassured her.
She was just warming up.
“What did you tell her in your note?”
That she was embarrassing me, and we needed to leave. She pivoted her head, eyeing the street. Where did you park?
“My hover scooter is around the block.”
Hover scooter? Like, from your planet? Her animated expression mesmerized him. He could hardly look away.
“Yes.” They would be unable to communicate while on the scooter, and he wanted to keep talking to her. He touched her elbow. “Um…you won’t be able to write. If it’s okay, I’d like to establish a mind-link.”
She nodded, turning her face toward him with undisguised eagerness.
Strands of silky hair clung to his fingers as he clasped her head. His powerful psychic energy didn’t require physical contact for access—he could achieve it from across the room, but it did facilitate the entry and offer forewarning to the individual.
In actuality, he had the ability to slip in and out of a person’s mind without him ever being aware his psyche had been breached. However, no ethical individual would violate the Verital Code of Honor by doing that.
Holding her gaze, he linked their minds. All right?
Well, hello there. She smiled.
He reached for her hand, and, when she curled her fingers around his, a shaft of heat shot straight to his groin. Veritals were cerebral, the bonding between genmates more mental than physical, but herian if her touch didn’t activate baser urges. An atavistic sexual awareness tingled through him from head to toe.
He became tongue-tied all of sudden—not that he needed his mouth to communicate. He shot her a mental picture of the location of the hover scooter.
I see bushes.
The light refractor renders it invisible. He focused and conjured a mental picture of the vehicle.
This is what you call