The Thrill of It All Read Free Page A

then back to him. “Oh, my God. I didn’t, did I? Tell me I didn’t hit you.”
    “No can do, dollface,” he replied, shaking his head. “You hit me, all right, even though my car’s gotta be the only thing bigger than yours within a thirty-five-mile radius.”
    Her jaw dropped. “But—but how could that be?” She didn’t remember it.
    His teeth flashed in something that wasn’t a smile. “Karma. The way I figure it, you’re my very own spitwad of bad karma.”
    Felicity barely paid attention to the words, because he shifted, the moonlight now illuminating the dark stubble on his chin. She remembered watching the short bristles brush against her cheek as his mouth found hers and—
    No! She put her hand to her head again. The accident must have knocked her wiring loose. “Nothing’s making sense.”
    He grunted. “Take a few more minutes—but do me a favor by taking them lying down.”
    “ No .” Recalling her earlier fear, she pulled her skirt closer against her bent legs and scanned the deceptively quiet sand around her. If she hadn’t felt too dizzy to stand, she’d be on her feet.
    He raked back his hair in an impatient gesture. “Please. You hit your head, so you need to take it easy. I get that you’re a little confused or scared, but—”
    “I’m terrified .”
    He muttered a curse beneath his breath. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you.”
    No, no. She shook her head, too late realizing it set her brain to rattling around in her skull. It wasn’t him that had her mouth drying. Some people had a phobia of heights or closed spaces. Call her weak if you wanted to, but she had a thing about tarantulas crawling through her hair.
    “It’s not—”
    “Lissie—”
    They both spoke at once, stopped.
    She frowned. “What did you call me?”
    “Lissie,” he replied. “When I was trying to get you to wake up, I asked your name. You mumbled, ‘Lissie.’ Isn’t that right?”
    A mumbled “Felicity” would come out sounding like that, she guessed. “Lissie’s fine.”
    Though her head still ached, her thinking was sharpening with each passing second. There was a thick folder of “fan” mail in her office at GetTV that attested to some people’s weird interest in TV personalities. No matter what her instincts said, if this guy didn’t recognize her as Felicity Charm, maybe that was all to the good.
    “Lissie’s perfect.” She took a deep breath, the oxygen sweeping more of the fuzziness away. “And you are…?”
    She wasn’t sure, but he may have hesitated.
    “Michael,” he said. “I’m Michael.”
    Felicity took in another deep breath, clearing away a few more cobwebs. Feeling much closer to normal, she held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Michael.”
    This time she was certain he hesitated, but then his fingers reached out and his tough, callused palm met hers.
    Goosebumps bolted toward her elbow. Her head went woozy again and she clung to his fingers, not wanting to let go. Unable to let go, as the strangest thought yet flowered in her brain: He was her lifeline.
    Felicity tried blinking it away, but it didn’t budge. What was happening to her? More than anything in the world she wanted to move closer, into him. She wanted to put her head on his shoulder once more, bury her face in the skin of his neck, and smell his warm, citrus-and-leather scent again.
    From scalp to toes, her skin prickled. Again ?
    “Michael?” she whispered, raising her gaze to his.
    For the space of a heartbeat she thought he was as helpless against their connection as she, but then he pulled free of her and stood up. “What?” Looming over her with the moon behind him, his face was a dark, unreadable blob.
    Felicity rose to her feet, too, now less concerned about dizziness than the tarantulas, the darkness, and most of all this unnerving, inexplicable link between herself and a total—not to mention dangerous-looking—stranger.
    “I feel better. Fine, as a matter of fact.”