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"I’m wild again, beguiled again..."

"Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered" -- Ella Fitzgerald

"Who was that?" Dex's eyes were wide. He looked from Grace to me and then to Gaelen, who was back on the other side of the bar now, preparing to mix a drink… or was she just standing there, leaning against the bar top?

"That's Gaelen," Grace said at last, giving me a look. "And she seems to have made quite an impression on our friend Evan."

Again, I heard what was said, but I had a difficult time caring or responding to it. My focus had narrowed to the woman behind the bar. Had she really said yes? Gods, I hoped so. All I could do now was wait until ten and pray she didn't change her mind.

"Excuse me, guys," I said, giving Dex a pat on the shoulder. "I think I'll take a walk. Be back later." I just couldn't sit still. As I walked away, I heard Dex ask Grace, "Where did that music come from?" But I don't know if Grace answered.

Moving on autopilot, I wandered the darkening streets. Something strange was happening, interfering with my control. I'd felt this sexual pull many times before, but not with this intensity, except maybe with Star. The problem was, Gaelen wasn't Star.

Star and I understood each other. Together we could be ourselves, let go, without worrying about hurting someone. I remembered my discussion with Roca. People like us couldn't afford to lose control with an ordinary person. And, though subtle differences told me Gaelen wasn't from Earth, I doubted she had more than everyday human strength.

I shook my head. I'd just met the woman, and it was one thing to feel aroused, but to have my body show its reaction without my permission... that frightened me. I wanted her so much I felt helpless against it.

What if I lost control again, in other ways? It would be unthinkable to hurt her because my mind was so overcome with lust that I couldn't keep remembering how fragile she was. That small body under all those layers of cloth… so precious, so delicate.

I closed my eyes, trying not to think about it.

And… what if she was just being friendly? What if all she wanted from me was a pleasant walk in Central Park? From scanning Grace's surface thoughts (sorry, Grace) I knew she wasn't married; she had no steady lover, male or female. But what if that was the way she wanted it? Could I walk away now, knowing how it felt to be in the same room with her, knowing how much I wanted to be with her and that she didn't feel the same?

Shit.

She was so beautiful. I could see her as clear as if she stood before me: her creamy brown skin, wonderful luminous eyes, generous mouth, and exquisite hands. Her dress covered almost everything else, but there was more than just imagination in my perceptions of her body. I literally couldn't help noticing.

And, when we had touched, didn't it feel like she wanted me too?

All at once I was hard again.

I sighed. The streets were busy, as always, but like a true New Yorker, I hadn't seen anything but the inside of my own mind. I only hoped I hadn't made myself conspicuous in some way. That said, I stopped in front of a store window, and didn't move on until I got a certain part of my body back under control.

Since Star, many women had been drawn to me and I to them. I loved feeling sensual-sexual. Controlling my strength had been no problem.

Why did it seem so different now?

Because, I had to admit, in spite of truly caring for all the others, no one of them had been really important to me before.

I ducked into a coffee shop and ordered a latte, then sat at one of their tiny tables by the window, palms pressed hard against my forehead as the coffee grew cold.

I wanted her… Gods, yes. But even if she wanted me in return, something I was not at all sure of, the strength of my desires could kill her.

I should leave now, go back to Denver… or somewhere, anywhere else. Unbelieving, I felt a tear run down one cheek.

I knew I was going to meet her.

It would be impossible to stay away.

* * *

For the tenth time, I thought about opening the door to the bar. It was almost 10 p.m. What if she didn't come out? Well, if she didn't want to see me again, then going in and begging wouldn't help matters.

I was just running through the same scenario for the eleventh time, when the door opened. She had changed into a pair of faded blue jeans and an oversized yellow sweatshirt. Without the full skirted dress, she was even tinier than before. Her long curls fell loosely over her shoulders and back, beneath a green New York Jets cap with the brim turned backwards. While I watched, she pulled on a lumpy blue down parka. She looked wonderful.

I held my breath as she walked toward me, her face expressionless. I wanted so much to touch her mind, to see what she was thinking, feeling. She smiled at me for an instant, then looked away down the street. A shiver seemed to run through her, though I didn't think it was from the chilly evening.

"Hi," she said, briefly glancing at me again. Her deep voice was almost palpable.

"Gaelen," I croaked.

"Didn't know if you'd be here or not," she said, staring at the lamppost.

"I didn't know if you'd meet me," I replied.

"I guess we're even, then."

"What?"

"I've spent the last few hours wondering why a good-looking guy like you wanted to take a walk with someone like me."

"Why wouldn't any man want to walk with a beautiful woman?"

She snorted and shook her head, making the curls swirl around her shoulders, picking up stray glints of light. "You're… what, twenty-five at the most? I'm old enough to be your…."

"Sister?" I asked.

She laughed, low and throaty. I could feel the warm sound in my chest. "Here I am thinking you're an inexperienced guy in search of an older woman, and then you come out with a smart remark like that." She really looked at me then, her face tilted up to study mine for a long moment. "There's something different about you," she said thoughtfully. "Something… I don't know."

I felt blood rising to my cheeks and turned away from those intense, knowing eyes. What did she see?

"What, you sorry you asked me out now?"

I turned back quickly, knowing my face was still blazing, "No, not at all, I…."

I almost reached out for her hand, but drew back, remembering the electric thrill I'd felt the first time we touched. Had she felt the same? I thought I saw her flinch away from me a little, so I just held out my arm instead, feeling like some dorky hero from a romance novel. I was relieved when she linked her arm with mine, a small smile playing around her mouth. Even that slight touch was enough to rock me, but I covered my reaction as best I could, not wanting to frighten her. This had to go well.

A man and a woman, talking happily, appeared in the doorway. They gave us a look as they threaded their way around us.

Gaelen cleared her throat. "I think we're blocking the sidewalk."

I smiled. How long had we been standing there? "Shall we walk?" I asked, looking toward the park. She nodded.

"Why would you think I wouldn't meet you?" she asked, lengthening her stride even as I shortened mine.

"I was, um… afraid I might have offended you. When we were dancing… you know?"

She laughed that wonderful laugh again. "So that really happened? It would take more than a hard-on to offend me. My mother always said it was the only honest compliment a man could pay a woman."

I smiled, blushing again. "She sounds very wise."

Gaelen nodded. "She was. And she also said that dynamite comes in small packages. That might be something you'd want to think about."

I stared at her, but she was looking away. Was she trying to tell me something? With her beside me, I was very conscious of how small she was; her head barely reached my shoulder.

Before I knew it, we were in the park. The trail branched in several directions, but my feet took the one toward the old carousel, even though I knew it would be closed. Other couples passed us, arm in arm, the fog of their breath in the cooling night trailing behind them like banners.

After a while, the familiar brick building loomed up before us. All year round it was the place to find laughing children and young-at-heart adults riding the carved ponies to all the places their dreams could imagine. By unspoken agreement, we both stopped beside a window. She let her hand fall from my arm, and I felt the loss keenly. The air seemed heavy, as though I couldn't catch my breath. She stepped up onto a low bench and peered inside.

"I love coming here. The horses are so beautiful, like works of art."

I didn't say anything. I loved carousels, but I couldn't see anything this time except her. After a few seconds, she turned toward me.

"Yes," I said. "Beautiful." As she stood atop the bench, her face was just the right height. I moved closer, very slowly, until our lips touched.

She didn't pull away, but she shivered a little. I thought I knew how she felt. The touch of her hand had been electric; her lips were like fire. She gasped, and her arms went around my neck. I pulled her into a full embrace.

This woman drew me as no one ever had before. I wanted to get to know her in every way, to understand all the things that were important to her. But first… first I would have to have her body, or I would not be able to think about anything at all.

So much contact, my brain was on overload. Then some reserve of control kicked in and I wanted more. She clung to me, her slender arms so much stronger than I would have thought. Her whole body was pressed against me. I could feel her hard nipples through our clothing. I knew she had to feel my hardness as well. We'd only just met, but I'd never felt anything this intense before.

I made myself pull back a little, to look at her face. She was breathing faster, and I could see a blush burning through the natural color-richness of her skin. Her clear brown eyes opened, fixing boldly on mine. Then somehow we were kissing again, this time with open mouths and questing tongues.

She tasted so good, her mouth sweet and rich, as though with exotic spices. I felt lightheaded, but it was important to remember where I was, where we were. This was a public place. We were not teenagers to sneak away and make out in the bushes.

The very logic of that thought surprised me. I had feared that control of any sort would be impossible for me, but I found that if I concentrated on what might be best for her, I could think as clearly as I needed to. This increased my confidence enough to say what I so much wanted to say. I broke the kiss, pulling gently back but in no way letting her go.

"Gaelen." Saying her name was intoxicating. I knew somehow that this question was important, not just to me, but to both of us. "Please… will you let me make love to you tonight?"