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Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz
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imagining the passion hidden behind the lab coat and the glasses.
Definitely not a meek, nervous little spinster, he thought.
Tango Dancer.
5
t he auditorium was filled to capacity. Isabel sat in the third to the last row, notebook and pen on the small desk that extended from the arm of the plush, theater-style seat. She was watching the speaker onstage, concentrating so she would not miss anything Tamsyn Strickland said, when she felt a whispery, atavistic thrill stir the hair on the nape of her neck.
Following an instinct that was probably as old as the species, she turned her head to look back over her shoulder to see who or what was closing in on her.
A man had entered the dimly lit chamber. He stood in the shadows behind the last row of seats. It was difficult to make him out clearly because of the low level of illumination but she could see from the way he stood that he was not interested in what was going on at the front of the room. Instead he took off a pair ofdark sunglasses and examined the group of seminar attendees the way a large hunting cat studies the crowd gathered at the watering hole. Selecting his prey.
His gaze locked with hers. That was when she knew he had been looking for her.
Adrenaline splashed through her veins. She could have sworn that she heard energy crackling in the room. She was amazed that there was no flash of lightning.
What was going on here? Alarmed, oddly excited and somewhat dazed, she turned quickly around in her seat and forced herself to pay attention to the lecture.
Onstage Tamsyn Strickland, pointer in hand, launched into her closing remarks.
“Tapping into your personal creative potential is the focus of the Kyler Method,” Tamsyn declared. Exuberance bubbled up through her words. “That is the skill that we will teach you, and believe me, you will learn it well. What’s more, you will see the positive effects of the method at work in your personal life within the first twenty-four hours.”
The audience was riveted. No surprise there, Isabel thought. Tamsyn was a charismatic speaker. She believed wholeheartedly in the Kyler Method, and when she was onstage, she could make the audience believe in it, too.
She was in her early thirties, attractive, divorced and zealously committed to her new career as an instructor here at Kyler, Inc. Tamsyn had found her calling in motivational lecturing.
Isabel gave it a few minutes and then, unable to resist, riskedanother glance over her shoulder to see if the stranger was still standing in the shadows at the back of the room.
He was there, all right. And still watching her. He inclined his head in a small gesture that signaled his recognition and let her know that he was waiting for her.
Isabel caught her breath and turned around again, very quickly. She had never seen him before in her life. She was positive of that. No woman would ever forget a man like that. How could he possibly know who she was?
“This is only an orientation session.” Tamsyn paused at the front of the stage and spread her hands in a graceful rising motion. “The hard work comes later, in the seminars and workshops that you will attend over the course of the next five days. But I promise you that when you walk out of this room today you will know that your journey has begun. You will learn how to organize, manage and control your life in a way that will increase your personal satisfaction and prosperity. You will learn how to tap into your own creative potential. Your life will never be the same.”
Tamsyn gave the audience one last megawatt smile and, with an actor’s sense of timing, vanished from the stage through a gold velvet curtain.
The room exploded into applause. The spectacular art-glass chandelier that had been designed especially for the expensively decorated auditorium brightened gradually. The warm light that radiated through the translucent abstract sculpture revealed the room’s paneled walls and rich, plush carpeting.
The
Definitely not a meek, nervous little spinster, he thought.
Tango Dancer.
5
t he auditorium was filled to capacity. Isabel sat in the third to the last row, notebook and pen on the small desk that extended from the arm of the plush, theater-style seat. She was watching the speaker onstage, concentrating so she would not miss anything Tamsyn Strickland said, when she felt a whispery, atavistic thrill stir the hair on the nape of her neck.
Following an instinct that was probably as old as the species, she turned her head to look back over her shoulder to see who or what was closing in on her.
A man had entered the dimly lit chamber. He stood in the shadows behind the last row of seats. It was difficult to make him out clearly because of the low level of illumination but she could see from the way he stood that he was not interested in what was going on at the front of the room. Instead he took off a pair ofdark sunglasses and examined the group of seminar attendees the way a large hunting cat studies the crowd gathered at the watering hole. Selecting his prey.
His gaze locked with hers. That was when she knew he had been looking for her.
Adrenaline splashed through her veins. She could have sworn that she heard energy crackling in the room. She was amazed that there was no flash of lightning.
What was going on here? Alarmed, oddly excited and somewhat dazed, she turned quickly around in her seat and forced herself to pay attention to the lecture.
Onstage Tamsyn Strickland, pointer in hand, launched into her closing remarks.
“Tapping into your personal creative potential is the focus of the Kyler Method,” Tamsyn declared. Exuberance bubbled up through her words. “That is the skill that we will teach you, and believe me, you will learn it well. What’s more, you will see the positive effects of the method at work in your personal life within the first twenty-four hours.”
The audience was riveted. No surprise there, Isabel thought. Tamsyn was a charismatic speaker. She believed wholeheartedly in the Kyler Method, and when she was onstage, she could make the audience believe in it, too.
She was in her early thirties, attractive, divorced and zealously committed to her new career as an instructor here at Kyler, Inc. Tamsyn had found her calling in motivational lecturing.
Isabel gave it a few minutes and then, unable to resist, riskedanother glance over her shoulder to see if the stranger was still standing in the shadows at the back of the room.
He was there, all right. And still watching her. He inclined his head in a small gesture that signaled his recognition and let her know that he was waiting for her.
Isabel caught her breath and turned around again, very quickly. She had never seen him before in her life. She was positive of that. No woman would ever forget a man like that. How could he possibly know who she was?
“This is only an orientation session.” Tamsyn paused at the front of the stage and spread her hands in a graceful rising motion. “The hard work comes later, in the seminars and workshops that you will attend over the course of the next five days. But I promise you that when you walk out of this room today you will know that your journey has begun. You will learn how to organize, manage and control your life in a way that will increase your personal satisfaction and prosperity. You will learn how to tap into your own creative potential. Your life will never be the same.”
Tamsyn gave the audience one last megawatt smile and, with an actor’s sense of timing, vanished from the stage through a gold velvet curtain.
The room exploded into applause. The spectacular art-glass chandelier that had been designed especially for the expensively decorated auditorium brightened gradually. The warm light that radiated through the translucent abstract sculpture revealed the room’s paneled walls and rich, plush carpeting.
The
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