Free ServingNicole by Marilyn Campbell Page A

handle on the door and entered.
    The first word that came to mind was ostentatious, then
regal, then…suffocating. The room reminded her of a movie set for eccentric
British or French royalty, ornately carved furniture, heavy velvet drapes,
blood reds and glittering gold. She didn’t realize she was making a face until
the male voice came to her again.
    Perhaps you would prefer this?
    Nicole gasped as the entire room underwent a total
redecoration. Now she was surrounded by bright, tropical colors, white wicker
furniture and a whooshing, broad-bladed fan overhead. It took her a moment to
realize there was a man sitting across the room in a rattan peacock chair.
    “Better?”
    His actual voice sounded even deeper and sexier than it had
in her head, but she was stunned by the jaw-dropping visual before her. He
looked completely relaxed, holding a hurricane glass of pink liquid with an
umbrella in it. A snow-white suit created a vivid contrast to his tanned skin
and raven-black hair tied back from his face. Dark eyes and prominent
cheekbones suggested Polynesian or Native American somewhere in his genetic
line. A large diamond stud adorned his right ear, while a visible shadow along
his jawline proclaimed his masculinity.
    As she tried to put the entire scene into a logical frame of
reference, the man casually analyzed her. His eyes moved slowly from her old
leather sandals, up the faded jeans hugging her slim hips, farther up over her
dark-blue tank top under which her nipples had just puckered to points within
their B-cups. The only makeup she wore was around her eyes, but it was
dramatically applied to enhance her blue irises. When he finally got to her
choppy silver and neon-pink hair, he laughed aloud.
    “No. I guess not.” He wiggled the fingers of his right hand
as he made a small wave across the room. In an instant the décor changed again.
It was now ultra-simple, uncluttered and, except for a green vase of orange
bird-of-paradise flowers on a table, everything was black, white, gray, chrome
and glass. A low-profile bed with black satin sheets was the largest item in
the room.
    Along with the décor, his attire changed to black jeans and
a black t-shirt. The white suit jacket had masked his broad shoulders,
well-developed biceps and the tattoo of a gray, thick-bodied snake coiling down
and around the length of his left arm. Its slitted eyes seemed to observe her
from the back of his hand. His straight, medium-long hair now hung loose,
tucked behind his ears with a stray lock falling over his forehead. His
tropical drink had turned into a bottle of domestic beer. However, the exotic
features and stubble remained the same.
    “Interesting trick,” Nicole said with a smirk. She had yet
to take another step into the room. “Even better than the mental
communication.”
    “You’re not shocked?”
    She shrugged. “I’ve learned different people have different
talents. But if you can get in my head, why didn’t you immediately know what
style I’d prefer?”
    “I only sent you a message. I didn’t poke around. That would be unethical without your permission. I have quite a few other talents
you might be interested in. I’ll be pleased to teach you all of them.”
    “No thank you. I have enough problems with the talents I already have.” Contrary to her words, his offer intrigued her, but she had no
intention of revealing her vulnerability to a complete stranger. She took
another look around the room. The only feeling she picked up was desire,
an intense wanting in her mind and an aching emptiness in her vagina. But those
feelings were her own…which was understandable considering she hadn’t had sex
in years and this guy was a huge helping of testosterone on a silver platter.
Oddly, she usually had no problem keeping the need tamped down. Why was it
suddenly so insistent?
    The more bewildering part was the total lack of impression
she got from him. She always picked up what everyone else felt, as long as