Page 56

“Come on, Alex. The way I figure it, this ability of yours is just like a muscle. You need to push yourself if you want to get stronger.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. More Colin logic? Who the heck was this guy?

“Fine, last one.” This was never going to work. He was too far away, surrounded by eight other men and hidden behind the dance floor.

She trained her senses on the man below, picking through the static until she singled him out. Then she brought the connection into focus, tuning in while holding back the chaos. The full spectrum of his emotions blazed over her nerve endings.

It was all so—clear.

She pulled back with a gasp. Heart pounding, she grabbed Jericho’s forearm. “I did it. I don’t know how, but I did it.”

Not only had she succeeded, but it had been easy. How the hell was that possible when she’d been struggling to even keep her blocks in place? Until Jericho walked up and…

She dropped her eyes to the fingers she’d wrapped around his tan forearm. Heat permeated her skin where their shoulders were pressed together.

She’d been touching Jericho. That was the only thing that had changed.Jericho.She jerked her hand from his arm and took a step back, rubbing her chest.

Jericho frowned, watching her retreat. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’ve had enough practice for one night.”

Colin’s gaze shifted between them, then narrowed speculatively. She tensed, not liking the calculating glint in his eyes.

“Fine. If you’re done practicing, it’s time for some fun.” Colin snagged her hand, towing her behind him with long, determined steps.

“Wait. What? Where are we going?” she protested. “Dang it, slow down a second.”

“You can’t spend the rest of your life playing it safe, Alex.” He hustled her toward the steps.

She threw a desperate glance at Jericho, who watched them with a murderous expression on his face. Oh man, no wonder Colin was in such a hurry.

She stopped resisting, fearing for Colin’s life. “Colin. Wait. It’s too crowded down there.” Pounding music muted her protest.

Seconds later, Colin guided her onto the dance floor. He whipped her hand over her head, spun her in two quick circles, and dipped her over his arm like Fred Astaire. Her appletini churned in rebellion.

He loomed over the top of her, his face inches from her nose. “It’s time you and Jericho stepped out of your comfort zone.”

“Comfort zone?” Was this about her training or Jericho? Either way, it didn’t bode well. “Colin! No, I can’t do this. I don’t dance. I—”

Colin drew her up, spun her out, andlet her go.

Fred Astaire was a dead man.

The crowded dance floor was Alex’s worst nightmare. Bodies surrounded her, gyrating to the pulsing music. Colin moved with an athlete’s natural agility, a skill she might have appreciated if she’d been watching fromthe balcony.

The crowd closed in from all sides, blocking her escape. Her anxiety ratcheted higher. How many people would she brush against if she made a run for it? She spun in a circle. Not dancing, panicking. There was no way out.

Strangers brushed against her. Her heart pounded in her ears.Too close. They’re too close.

Where the heck was Colin? She turned to find a woman in a skin-tight catsuit pulling him farther away, grinding against his hips. No help there. Alex was on her own.

She raked her fingers through her hair, grazing someone’s shoulder. Her guards slipped. Psychic energy whirled like a tornado, slithering through the cracks. Lust, hunger, desire. Too many people. Sharp breaths squeezed through her lips.

Hands brushed her hips. Not Colin’s. A cry rose in her throat. She had to get out of there. Had to—

She stepped back and smacked into a hard, masculine frame.

Jericho.