before, and he found he couldn’t stop looking at them. They stood out in her face, a vivid contrast to her warm, copper skin. They turned her from merely pretty to strikingly beautiful.
And they were filled with anger.
“Please don’t ask me that again, Mr. Witherspoon,” she said tightly, taking a step away from the table. “All the massages we do here at Massage Envy are strictly therapeutic.”
“But come on, Nina, darlin’—what could be more therapeutic than a happy ending?”
A happy ending—what the hell is he talking about? Reddix wondered.
The man turned over on his back suddenly, showing a tent under the white sheet and giving Reddix his answer. He felt a growl rising in his throat—or would have if he’d been there in person. How dare this filthy son of a bitch go near her? How dare he try to touch her like that? Despite his determination to keep himself aloof and distant from the girl, Reddix felt an instant surge of protectiveness. Floating above, watching the scene as a silent, invisible observer, he had never felt more helpless. He could do nothing but watch as the scene unfolded…and it wasn’t nearly over yet.
“I’m sorry but no,” the girl called Nina said firmly. “And if you say anything else about it, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Just a little…” The man reached for her hand. “Come on, sweetie—just a little rub. Just touch it. Just once.”
“No!” Nina yanked her hand away, a disgusted look on her face. “I told you, this isn’t that kind of a place! We’re a national chain, for God’s sake—what’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong is that I need your sweet hands on me.”
“Mr. Witherspoon, this is the last time I’m warning you…”
“All right then.” The man flipped back over onto his stomach with poor grace. “Just finish up.”
From the look on Nina’s lovely face, she would rather have touched a cesspool full of slime. But she simply nodded and went back to work on the man.
“So how is your wife?” she said pointedly. “I met her that time I saw you in the grocery store, remember? She’s really pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you, darlin’.”
“Mr. Witherspoon…”
The man sighed. “You can’t blame me for trying, you know. You’re so gorgeous and sweet and talented. Ah, that’s the spot.” He sighed as she rubbed his lower back. “I always feel better after you work me over. You have the healing touch—you know that, right?”
The scene was beginning to fade, but as he heard the words, Reddix felt a shock that ran all the way through his invisible, incorporeal self.
The healing touch. Can it be? Is she the one? She must be, or I wouldn’t be dreaming of her.
As the dream broke apart and he rushed upward toward consciousness, he knew there was only one way to find out…
But getting off the Mother Ship and down to Earth wasn’t nearly as easy as Reddix had hoped it would be. The docking bay was on the other end of the ship from his guest suite. By the time he finally got there, having to go through a hellish stew of emotions in order to do so—it was nearly forty-five minutes since he’d awoken from his dream.
No dream, he told himself grimly as he strode down the long, echoing corridor of ships to the place where he had parked his own. It was a vision. It was real—the girl is real, and she’s the one who can help me. The only one—I have to get to her!
As if to prove his point, the dream hadn’t faded away like most dreams do, melting away to nothing ten or fifteen minutes after one wakes up. Instead, Nina was as fresh and as clear in his mind as if she was standing right in front of him. Reddix though he could close his eyes and recall her so vividly he’d be able to count the flecks of gold in her deep blue eyes.
He still couldn’t understand why he hadn’t remembered his previous dreams of her. For some reason, though, this one seemed to stick and the others were coming back too.