Seized By Seduction

“Don’t worry. Your time is coming, Quasar.”

Quasar lifted a brow. “How you figure that?”

A smile touched Striker’s lips. “Not sure. I just do.”

Quasar didn’t like that prediction. He leaned over the table, got almost nose to nose with Striker and looked him dead in the eyes. “What are you now? Some damn psychic?” he asked angrily. Any other man with a lick of sense would have thought twice before getting in Striker’s face. He was just as tall as Quasar—in fact, maybe a few inches taller—and was a total badass who worked out a lot, rode his motorcycle like a bat out of hell and spent a lot of time at the gun range, perfecting his aim.

Instead of knocking the hell out of him, Striker merely sat there grinning like he enjoyed getting a rise out of Quasar.

“If figuring that out makes me a psychic, then so be it.”

As if anticipating a brawl was about to take place, a man Quasar assumed was the manager of the establishment rushed over to their table. “Not in here, guys. Take it outside.”

Quasar sat back down in his seat. “No need. I’ll put off his ass-whipping for another day.”

Ignoring Striker’s laugh, Quasar resumed eating his pizza.

* * *

RANDI’S FINGERS PAUSED on the keyboard of her laptop as she gazed at the huge arrangements of fresh flowers that had been delivered to her earlier. They had certainly brightened up her Wednesday morning. They were from Quasar and the card simply read,

Thanks for spending the day with me, and I’m looking forward to seeing you this weekend.

She couldn’t help smiling as she recalled the last time a man had sent her flowers other than her father or her godfather, Noah. Larry had never sent her any. Probably couldn’t afford to as a college student. To say the delivery had been a pleasant surprise would definitely have been an understatement.

A few hours later, after completing her project, she swiveled her chair around to pull her cell phone out of her purse. There was no reason she couldn’t take the time to thank Quasar now. It was polite and had nothing to do with the fact that she’d thought of him a lot since Saturday. More than she really should have with all the work she had to do. Next month she would be teaching a class at Quantico. She needed to get prepared and not daydream about Quasar every chance she got.

“Hello, Randi.”

She wished she could ignore the warm sensation that flowed through her. Why did he have to sound so sexy and say her name with so much sensuality? “I got the flowers, Quasar, and they are beautiful.” She refused to trot out the old cliché You shouldn’t have, when she was glad he had. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Like I said on the card, I enjoyed my time with you Saturday and look forward to this weekend.”

And I enjoyed my time with you. “Is there anything in particular you’d like us to do while you’re here?” Too late she realized how that might have sounded. Given the opportunity, she’d bet any man could come up with several things, all sexual in nature.

“Um, I’ll leave the plans to you,” he said in that ultrasexy voice stirring her in places that hadn’t been stimulated in years.

“So tell me, Randi, how have you been?”

She leaned back in chair while gazing at her flowers. “Great. I’m teaching a class at the FBI Training Center next month, and I’m getting prepared for it. New recruits always try to challenge my mind.”

“In what way?”

“By attempting to test my abilities. They figure if I’m a psychic, I should know everything, including who’s winning the Super Bowl next year.”

“A few skeptics, huh?”

“More than a few, but I’m used to it. What I do is use my degree in analytical behavior to smooth out the doubters. I explain that not all psychics are alike and not all of them can do the same thing. Every gift is pretty personalized. And then, unfortunately, there are the great pretenders. They give those of us who are legitimate a bad rap. That’s something the doubters see as logical and making sense.”

“You’re the real thing. I’ll admit, I was a skeptic at first, but you made a believer out of me.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, I need to get back to work. I just wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome, and while I have you on the phone, what’s your address?”

She rattled it off to him.

“Thanks, and I’ll see you Friday around seven.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

After hanging up the phone, she picked up her cup of tea and took a sip while trying to ignore the giddy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She almost jumped at the sound of her phone ringing. She glanced at it, not recognizing the number. “This is Dr. Randi Fuller. May I help you?”

“Yes, Dr. Fuller, this is Special Agent Jarez Riviera of the Los Angeles FBI.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Yes, Agent Riviera?”

“You came highly recommended from Special Agent Tommy Felton in Charlottesville. He said the two of you worked together on a couple of cases.”

Randi doubted she could forget Special Agent Felton and his blatant dislike of her, mainly because he had chosen not to believe in her capabilities. The first time had been a case involving a human trafficking ring. If the Bureau had taken her findings seriously, they could have captured the leader of the group, Levan Shaw. They had managed to rescue over fifty kids and young women. However, Shaw remained at large. He was out there involved in no telling what types of criminal activities. He hadn’t resurfaced in over two years. Some thought he was dead, but a part of her knew the man was very much alive.

Shaw was the one person she’d never been able to get a clear read on. However, when it came to his criminal activities of kidnapping kids for the slave trade, she’d been able to key in. It had been the children crying out to her for help that had aided her with the case.

Because Agent Felton had blown the chance to apprehend Levan Shaw, the director of the FBI had come down hard on him, and he’d gotten overlooked for the big promotion he’d felt he deserved. He’d blamed her for it.

She would admit that in the course of the last case they’d worked together three months ago, the Erickson case, she felt she’d finally gained his respect. In a move that had surprised her, Agent Felton had approached her during her last day in Charlottesville, thanked her for all her help and apologized for his past hard-hearted behavior toward her.

“By the way, Agent Felton told me to tell you that he sends his best regards.”

“Thank you, Agent Riviera. How can I help you?”

“Rival gangs are about to go head-to-head here in Los Angeles unless we can stop them. The mother of the Westside Warlords gang leader was brutally murdered a few days ago. The rival gang, the Eastside Revengers, claim they had nothing to do with it and are being set up. We have reason to believe that’s true. We need to find the perp and make an arrest before this city is covered in blood.”