Stop Me by Brenda Novak Page A

sliding confidently between hers, the play of emotions on his face when he was too far gone to hold back.
    Such a heady fantasy wasn’t easy to forget.
    He didn’t return her smile, but he made his way through the other tables and sat down across from her.
    “Would you like to join me?” she asked.
    He tilted his head. “You’re the one who came to find me, remember?”
    “I’m leaving soon,” she said. “So I won’t be around to bother you much longer.”
    “Are you planning to talk to Officer Black when you reach New Orleans?”
    “If he hasn’t taken off for the holidays.”
    “And if he has?”
    “I’ll wait till he comes back.”
    “You’re spending Christmas in Louisiana?”
    “It looks that way.”
    “Your family doesn’t mind?”
    Her family…She nearly chuckled at the thought of her parents caring where she spent Christmas but knew if she did she’d have to explain her odd reaction. “I’m determined to get what I came for,” she said.
    Pulling a napkin from the dispenser on the table, Romain asked her for a pen, which she took out of her purse. He wrote something, then pushed the napkin toward her.
    a-D-e-L-e
    A shiver went through Jasmine as she studied the mix of capitals and the strange e’s. This was what Romain had seen last night, what he’d tried to walk away from.
    Setting down the spoon she’d been using to stir her coffee, she leaned back.
    “What made you change your mind about telling me?”
    “If I could’ve ignored it, I would have.”
    “And you couldn’t because…”
    “It wouldn’t be right.”
    In other words, the truth was the truth, and he wouldn’t hide from it even if it meant he’d have to face some painful realities. Jasmine had to respect that. “So you’ll help me?”
    “I just did.” He stood up and drew a set of keys from his pocket. He was finished. But Jasmine had one more question.
    “Do you have a tattoo on your arm?”
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    One eyebrow slid up, giving his expression a sardonic cast. “I have a couple of them.”
    “Is one a heart, with a ribbon bearing your daughter’s name?” Part of her hoped he’d say no, that this was one little test she’d fail. It happened occasionally.
    And when it did, she was able to convince herself that she wasn’t so different from everyone else.
    Obviously baffled, he hesitated but then nodded. “Why?” Such incontrovertible evidence that she’d “done it again” always unsettled her.
    It made her feel that she was using only a small part of her gift. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to develop her perception any further. She was convinced that she’d been able to experience Romain’s fantasy because, in a sense, he’d invited her into his dream through his desire and she’d reciprocated through her own. She’d certainly never experienced anything similar with anyone else. “Just checking,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
    He watched her carefully. “What’s my other tattoo?” She told herself to give him the wrong answer. Then maybe he’d assume someone who’d seen him swimming or fishing without his shirt had mentioned it to her. But she didn’t understand how he figured into Kimberly’s case—and thought there might come a day when she’d need him to trust her intuition. “A rose, with your late wife’s name.”
    He stared at her, his face a mask. “Where is it?”
    “Her name? Along the stem.”
    “I’m asking about the tattoo.”
    She put her hand behind her, to the flat part of her shoulder blade, flushing because the memory of kissing him there flashed through her as she did. “Right here.”
    He swung the keys on his ring around and around as he considered her answer.
    “Do you want to tell me how you know that?”
    “Not really.”
    He hesitated but ultimately seemed to understand that he’d be better off if he didn’t allow himself to be drawn in any further. “Fine. Good luck finding your sister.”
    Unable to resist provoking him a little more, Jasmine