This is the second part of my "Kiss of Fate" series. Reese and Joss are in NYC and thrown together - again. Will they remember each other? Or will another chance pass them by? Hope you enjoy!

Kiss of Fire


Manhattan Island, New York
November 5, 2008
******

Joss Carter swirled the amber coloured drink around in her glass and sighed. What should have been one of the happiest days of her life had been extinguished before it had a chance to begin. How had her life come to this, she wondered and sipped. The drink burned a path down her throat, but she didn't care. She just wanted to get drunk.

"Get you another drink?" a man's nasal toned voice asked from behind Joss.

Joss didn't bother to turn around. "No," her tone was flat and final.

"You look like you're running a bit on the empty side. Let me get you a refill."

"The answer is no." Joss tightened her hand around the glass and willed herself not to chuck it at the stranger's head. She wanted to be left alone to wallow.

"Hey, baby," the man protested crossly, "I was just -"

Joss turned around. "You were just….what?" She made sure her purse was open wide enough for the creep to see her service weapon. She watched his expression turn from overly confident to ashen. "I thought so. You just run along, son, before you get yourself hurt."

She dismissed him with the wave of her hand. Turning back toward the bar she brought the glass to her lips. As she sipped, she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Turning to her right, she looked at the dark-haired, well dressed man at the end of the bar.

"You thinking about being brave, too?" she challenged with a bravado enhanced by the liquor.

"Nope," the stranger replied simply and twirled the liquid around in his glass.

"Good." She paused. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why aren't you offering to get me a drink?"

He brought the glass to his lips. "Because you already have one."

"Smart ass," she muttered and drained her glass. She slammed it on the counter. "Joe. Get me another." A minute later her hands held another amber coloured glass. She shifted her eye back to the stranger.

"So, what's your story?" she challenged.

"Who says I have a story?" He shrugged indifferently and tried to concentrate on the drink and not the beautifully attractive woman sitting three stools down on his left. He tried not to let her perfume affect him, but the sweet jasmine reminded him of the vacations he used to take down south to visit his grandparents.

"Good looking guy sitting alone at a bar by himself - although you did crash a wedding reception. So I'm guessing that you had a run in with an ex-wife or lover," Joss remarked confidently. "No matter what, you got a story."

"Don't we all," the man replied with a cynical smile and finished off the drink. His eye flicked sideways to look at the dark blue taffeta dress with more ruffles than the law allowed. "You're all dressed up with no place to go."

"Already been. A wedding." The man raised his eyebrow. "Not mine," Joss corrected quickly. "A friend."

"Always a bridesmaid, never a bride," he quipped.

"Been there, done that, too," Joss' voice was hollow from a mixture of pain and anger. Now he was intrigued. His eyes glanced quickly to her left hand. Bare of a ring.

"Widowed?" He didn't mean to pry, but he had to know.

"Divorced."

"Sorry," he consoled. "How long?"

Joss looked at her watch. "In one minute it will be exactly twelve hours."

"So you attended a wedding to lift your spirits? Sounds like you may need to get a new therapist," he chuckled dryly.

Joss sneered and rolled her eyes. "I was the Matron of Honour. I couldn't exactly back out."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." Joss emptied her glass. "Joe!" Another glass appeared. She cradled it as though it held the answers she needed, but she was afraid to drink it. "What is it about weddings that make you betray your honesty and integrity? I mean, there you are standing beside your best friends, and the preacher asks if anyone has just cause for them not to marry to speak up. You have that chance to save them from making a mistake. And what do you do? You plaster on a smile and shut the hell up."

The silence stretched for a long, painful minute as though neither party dared to speak.

"So, what about you?" Joss eyed the handsome stranger.

"It's complicated."

"Sure it is," Joss scoffed. "You're married or divorced."

The stranger twirled the amber liquid in his glass so fast Joss wondered how it didn't slosh over the side. He looked down at the counter.

"Like I said, it's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" Joss peered closely at the stranger. "Have we met before?"

"I don't think so," he deflected.

"I just have this feeling we've met before. Like…" she tried to find the right word "…déjà vu."

The stranger trailed his eyes from Joss' face to her feet and back. "I think I would remember you." Interest smoldered in his blue eyes.

"Strange." Joss emptied her glass and slammed it down. "Joe!"

The stranger counted the empty glasses. "I think you've had enough."

Joss turned to give him a defiant look. "Heh. Are you my keeper now?"

"I was thinking that you may not want to get behind the wheel. That's all."

"For your information, pal-"

"My name is John."

"Of course it is," Joss snorted. John shrugged indifferently. "For your information, John," she continued, "I have a room here - compliments of the bride and groom…like the open bar you invited yourself to - so I can get as drunk as I want." Reaching in her clutch, she pulled out the key card. "See?"

"Okay." He had been put in his place with subtle authority that impressed him immensely. Though she rubbed him the wrong way, he found himself strangely attracted to her. Something about her eyes pulled him in. Where had he seen her eyes before?

"Kids?"

John shook his head. "Who, me? No. No kids." In his line of work? No. I wouldn't wish a kid on myself to save my pathetic life, he groused. "You?"

"A son. He's ten."

John smiled and brought this glass to his mouth. If the boy was anything like his mother…

"Dance with me." Joss stood up and took a halting step forward.

John blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Dance. With me." Joss extended her hand. She teetered on her heels, but somehow she maintained her balance.

"I don't dance."

"Since I can't buy you a drink and we've run out of conversation…the next step is to dance."

"You may regret it," he cautioned her not to get her hopes up.

"After the day I've had…heh, consider it a gift."

"For what?"

"Not hitting on me."

John finished his drink. "Okay. You win." Taking Joss's hand in his, he immediately felt the jolt of electicity run up his arm. He almost had to remember to breathe.

The sweet baritone sound of Luther Vandross crooning "Here & Now" blared over the speakers. Taking the floor, John stood awkwardly as he tried to remember the section in his Army Ranger manual that described dancing.

"You are going to have to loosen up," Joss chastised and moved John's hands to her waist. With the bravado only malt liquor could give, she wrapped her arms around John's neck. Her steps were halting due to the alcohol, but she was careful not to stumble or step on toes as she moved to the slow beat. John tried to match her steps. Joss smiled.

"That's better," she complimented.

"Sure." He tried to listen to the music and not think about the beautiful woman in his arms or the way her perfume was weaving around him to whisper promises in his ear. He tried not to think about how she was turning him on. Think of Jessica! But Jessica was happily married to Peter. And this beautiful, intoxicated woman was in his arms, her breasts pressed against his chest, her eyes looked up at him with promises she intended to keep.

Distracted, John lost his concentration and stepped on Joss' foot.

"OW!" Joss exclaimed, suddenly sober. She hopped on one foot. Holding on to her partner's arm, she let him lead her to the bench on the far side of the wall. Sitting down, she cursed under her breath. "I should have believed you."

John slipped the stiletto off to examine Joss's foot. Softly and with expert hands he touched her toes. "Does that hurt?" He looked at Joss.

Now it was her turn to remember how to breathe. "No. Not much."

"How about this?" he asked and ran a finger along her arch.

Joss shook her head. "No."

John moved closer. "I guess nothing's broken." Like a tractor beam he couldn't break free from, John was drawn in by Joss' big brown eyes. "I think you're going to live."

"Yeah," she breathed. His eyes are so blue, she thought to herself. She licked her suddenly dry lips. God, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin and cry out his name as he made love to her. Her blood rushed hot at the thought of going to bed with the stranger named John.

John cupped Joss' cheek. She fit in the palm of his hand so perfectly - as though she had been made for him. He needed to kiss her before he died from want. His lips hovered over hers. He saw that her eyes were closed in anticipation. So he kissed her. Her lips were so soft against his that he fought against taking more. He heard her moan softly as he pulled her closer.

"Hey, Joss," a woman's voice called out to break the magical moment. Joss looked up to see her best girlfriend hurrying over. "Where did you run to?"

"I…" Joss looked down, but John was gone. Confused, she looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had he been there, or had she dreamt him? Plastering a smile on her face, she turned to her friend.

"Hey, Elise."

"Where have you been? Tonya's getting ready to throw the bouquet. Oh, look at you!" Elise hurriedly tried to put Joss' hair back in place. "What have you been doing?" She sniffed the air appreciatively. "Good God, Joss, how many did you throw back?"

Joss tried not to look insulted. "Just a couple."

"A couple of bottles," Elise corrected. "You ought to be lucky some strange guy didn't try to take advantage of you."

Joss looked around, peering into the crowd. "Did you see anyone here? With me?"

"No. Why?"

A bit of sadness filled Joss' heart. "No reason." She shook her head.

Elise grabbed Joss by the hand. "Come on, girl. We are going to be late."

So, the blue-eyed stranger had been a drunken fantasy, Joss theorized as she allowed herself to be dragged to the stage on the far end of the ballroom. And it was probably just as well, because what were the odds of ever meeting him again?
******

To be continued...