Her eyes slowly blinked. And blinked again.

"Do you see me?" he chuckled. "You might want to enjoy what you see while you can." Again her pale blue eyes blinked up at him. "Look at me. At me," he said, leaning down further and brushing a fingertip along her cheekbone.

"So pretty. So precious. So mine."

Chapter Seven.

Rogan set the coffee cup down as he stared at the paper. Sedona was a nice upper crust town, not large, but not too small. Lots of retirees and golf courses, lots of spas and naturalists/newagers. A Mecca for those on the fringe of what most considered normal. Here, off-the-beaten-path seemed the perfectly rational way to go.

Place made him twitchy. Give him good 'ole inner city crime any day.

The sky outside was crystal clear, a sharp crisp blue that hurt the eyes. The air was dry and yet, strangely welcoming.

He breathed deep, the scent of the dark roast coffee beans the owner of Desert Cup was grinding filled the air, heady and strong. Should have waited to have a cup from here.

Last night he'd been plagued with nightmares from the attack back in the mountains of Afghanistan, sleep wasn't his friend and he'd made the mistake of eating fast food breakfast burritos earlier. Why he'd been so stupid, he didn't know. He wasn't a snob, but all fast food tasted the same to him, no matter if it was breakfast, lunch or fried pies. They all tasted the same.

The B&B he'd chosen wasn't but a few blocks over and run by a friendly family. He could have stayed out at on the interstate, or one of the major hotel chains scattered throughout and around the town. There were even some high-class hotels, but Rogan had never been comfortable in hotels. He could sleep on the ground in some godforsaken land, but he couldn't sleep in a hotel. It used to not bother him, but ever since he had woken up at Ramstein after the attack, he found several things had changed for him. One of those was hotels.

To him, a hotel room could never be clean enough. The bed and breakfast he chose was different. It was like staying in someone else's house. People were funny about their homes if someone was staying with them. The place, a few blocks over in the historical part of town, made his mother's house look questionable and everyone in Mrs. Duran's bridge club knew she kept the best house in the neighborhood. No one could argue that fact. Her windows were the cleanest and there were never skid marks on her floors. She'd been a housewife all her life until his father passed away several years ago. Then she'd gotten a job at a local flower shop and informed him just a few weeks ago that she wanted to buy out Old Man Lipisky.

Rogan didn't know what to think. Life was odd. Life could be shit and it could just be normal.

He wasn't normal.

He didn't remember what the hell normal was. Normal people could probably sleep just find in Best Western or at the Courtyard or Holiday Inn. Most people would love a chance to stay in The Four Seasons or have enough money to stay in the penthouse. If he had that kind of dough, which he didn't, he wouldn't stay in one of those places.

No, he liked his nice, quiet, impeccable bed and breakfasts.

He should have eaten breakfast, but he told the owners last evening he wouldn't be eating in today.

Today he was sitting in a coffee shop, reading the local and state newspapers, scanning news articles to see if any other women ended up missing.

So far nothing.

He was on his way to California to speak with the family of one of the missing girls who had disappeared some seven years ago.

Instead, he'd decided to swing down to Sedona. He still didn't know why, instinct maybe.

Or, as his late night reading explained, perhaps it was more. Maybe it was more than instinct, perhaps it was some wacky psychic ability.

He smiled into his coffee at the absurd thought and looked across the street, his smile fading.

For whatever reason, he decided to stay here for a while. The woman across the street kept intruding into his thoughts.

And speaking of which- He watched as she opened her shop door and stretched up, a large purple watering can held over her head. The hanging basket, now dripping water, hung from her dark blue awning. There were three hanging pots, each was bursting with flowers, what kind he had no idea. Different from what he'd seen yesterday. Though he did know the ones hanging down in long streamers were petunias. He'd always thought they grew in neat little pots and had never seen them hang before, probably why they stuck out in his mind.

She went on to the next one. He admired the way her slight frame was toned. She wore some sort of long, flimsy skirt in a sort of tie-dyed blue with large, gold crescent moons on it. A gold, tunic-style shirt hit her mid-hip, the sleeveless shirt leaving her arms bare. He wondered if she had a smattering of freckles on her shoulders as she did across the bridge of her nose. Her hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. He watched as she watered the rest of the plants, then set the watering can down and strode across the street.

The bell above the door of the coffee shop jingled and she smiled as she walked into Desert Cup.

"Morning, Cora," the man behind the bar greeted. Today he sported a doo rag with large, all-seeing eyes on it.

Rogan just shook his head.

She barely spared Rogan a glance.

"Hey, Monte. All set for tonight?"

The man grinned, dimples making his reddened cheeks even rounder. "It is. The cake's in the back. Wanna see it?"

Rogan wondered why he was so fixated on this woman he didn't know.

Well, it was probably the eyes and his screwed up life, but he'd go with instinct for now. When all else failed, he went with instinct. And his instinct lead him here and right up to one Cora O'Donnell owner of a psychic shop.

Cora turned to follow Monte to the back and caught sight of the man sitting at the table all alone.

The bike rider from yesterday. She stopped next to his little table, which set next to an empty fireplace. "Enjoying the coffee?"

He smiled and took another sip. "I am indeed, Miss O'Donnell."

She frowned. "How do you know my name?"

One dark brow arched. "Perhaps I have my own psychic abilities."

"Or perhaps you're just a pain in the ass?" She crossed her arms over her chest and wondered again for the hundredth time this morning, why she hadn't been able to stop thinking about this man.

He grinned and scratched the side of his mouth. The man needed to shave. He was way beyond five o'clock shadow and edging into two days worth of stubble.

She found the scruffy look sexy. Went with the Harley.

Cora smiled at the thought.

"There's a sight."

She tilted her head. "You know, you obviously know me. Or have asked about me, so you shouldn't mind me asking you, who you are and what are you doing here?"

His eyes narrowed for just a second on hers and a slight chill danced down her spine.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, and the name is Rogan Duran."

Rogan Duran. Sexy name for a sexy man.

She sighed. "Great, Mr. Duran, enjoy your stay in Sedona."

He turned in his chair as she passed him, making her way to the back of the shop to where Monte stood waiting by the double swinging doors. She pushed through them and was in the kitchen part of the coffee house. Chris, the career college student stood next to the center block chopping vegetables. Sliced carrots mixed with celery and onions. The man had always left her feeling odd. His eyes were an intense dark brown, almost black and seemed to follow her wherever she went. It was unnerving, but he worked hard for Monte so she never brought it up.

He jerked his chin in her direction-apparently as a greeting.

She nodded back.

"So, what do you think?" Monte pointed to the counter top.

She looked and gasped. A large chocolate cake with a cascade of chocolate covered strawberries stood to the side. The swirled, decorative icing on the edging begged her to try a lick with her finger. "It looks wonderful, Monte. Kyle will love it. Has Hanson seen it yet?"

Monte nodded and smiled. "Just in earlier. He said he'd invited a few more people, nothing to worry about though with all the finger foods we're serving." Monte wiped a nonexistent spot off the gleaming countertop. "I'd have killed him if he added twenty more people the day of the party. Surprise is for the birthday boy, not for the caterer." Then he pointed in Chris's direction. "We also decided to add a soup and breads since it's been chilly in the evenings."

She rubbed her hands together. "This is awesome, Monte!" Without thought, she hugged him. "He'll be so shocked."

Monte laughed. "That's the idea."

As she turned to leave the kitchen area, she caught the narrowed look Chris shot her. Frowning, she walked out the door and back into the customer area. Lake waited at the counter and she was eyeing Mr. Duran. He was busy looking back at Cora.

She caught Lake's wiggle of brows and head tilt towards Duran. Cora only shook her head. Lake rolled her eyes. At the counter Lake leaned over and whispered, "I swear girl! I'm gonna have to knock you out and let men start having their way with you. You don't know what you're missing. Any man that can handle a Fat Boy the way that man can...mmmmm. Babe, trust me, go for him. He had questions about you yesterday when I sent him over to your shop."

The words were whispered, but the old building had great acoustics. Cora wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Rogan Duran, sexy as hell biker could hear exactly what Lake was saying.

"How's his aura?" Cora asked, meaning to be a smart ass.

Lake frowned and stared at him, her eyes losing their sharpness and the pupils dilating.

"For God's sake, don't read him here!" Cora hissed.

Lake's brows furrowed. "On second thought, maybe you should stay away from him."

This was news.

Cora looked out of the corner of her eye to see that Duran was buried behind his paper.

Monte's grin and headshake told him he at least could hear the conversation.

Then Lake tilted her head. "No, I don't think he's bad, just..." She sighed. "Damaged." Then she shook her head and blinked. Turning to Monte she asked, "So it's all set for tonight?"

Monte huffed out a breath and dumped finely ground espresso into the portafilter before fitting it onto the espresso machine. "What? Do you girls think I can't handle a party for twenty-five to thirty guests?"

Cora smiled. Lake tapped her nails, then without warning walked over to the table where Duran sat. Cora had the feeling she should jerk her friend back, but stood frozen to the spot.

Lake's voice carried, even as quiet as she was. Yep, he'd probably heard their exchange about auras. Great.

Lake asked, "You're new in town, and aren't hanging out at the touristy spots."

He lowered his paper and stared at her. "No ma'am."

"So you're not here to play golf?"

He ran his tongue around his teeth.

"Business?" Lake tapped her purple nails on the tabletop.

He folded his paper and set it aside. His dark eyes creased as they landed on Cora for just a second before returning to Lake.

"And you're interested because?"

Lake shrugged. "Well, the thing is, we're having a party tonight and Cora's date backed out, so I was thinking, if you're not busy, you could come."

Cora slid her eyes closed. Monte laughed. Cora opened her eyes and walked to the table. "Thank you, dear. If I'd wanted a date, I'd have set one up myself."

Lake scoffed. "No, darling, you wouldn't have." She turned back to Rogan. "You married?"

"Can't you tell?" Rogan smirked.

Lake waved the question away as if he'd said he was hot. "Yes or no."

He cocked a brow. "No."

"Any plans? Meetings for tonight at six-thirty?"

Again his eyes cut from Lake to Cora then back to Lake.

"No."

She smiled. "Good. If you can make it, swing by here, closer to seven maybe. The party will be in full swing by then. We're throwing a surprise party for a friend."

"And you need couples to do this?" he asked.

Lake's husky laughter danced out. "Well, if I'd planned it, yes. But then my activities can deviate from the norm."

Cora snorted and shoved Lake with her hip. Not wanting to seem juvenile and say he didn't have to come, or stand here mute like they were in junior high and Lake set her up on a date with the class hunk, Cora took a deep breath and said, "Really, come if you're not busy. One more won't hurt." She glanced at Monte. "Will it?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

Rogan shrugged, picked his paper back up and then looked at Cora. "I'll probably be here."

For some absurd reason, her heart gave a small flutter. She smiled. "Great, see you then."

At the counter, she ordered a chai-latte with a shot of espresso.