Lightning Strikes Twice

By Roni Denholtz

Pamela Costigan, psychiatrist at The Lightning Center, the premier facility for research and testing of people who’ve been struck by lightning and developed psychic abilities, runs into Evan Lassiter by chance at a conference. Not only is he a fellow psychiatrist, he’s the man who broke her heart. She’s still wildly attracted to him, despite the fact that he’s been vocal about his criticisms of her family’s center.

Evan has had second thoughts regarding Pam and has missed her a lot. He still has doubts about the Center, and asks to visit there. Pam and her family challenge him to look at their research with an open mind.

Evan tries to do so as he spends time with Pam and her colleagues. But he is still skeptical—although he finds himself developing strong feelings again for Pam.

Pam’s emotions toward Evan are reawakened, too. But the facility is being threatened by an unknown person as they continue their testing and research.

Can Pam trust the man who once hurt her and let her down? Will he help her and her team face danger? Or will their fiery attraction and stronger feelings cause them to crash and burn?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roni Denholtz
• Release date: Oct 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005019693

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Lightning Strikes Twice, © 2020 Roni Paitchel Denholtz

Published by Roni Paitchel Denholtz

Cover and Interior Layout: www.formatting4U.com

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All rights reserved. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author. Please contact the author at [e-mail]. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

For more information on the author and her works, please see www.ronidenholtz.com.

Pamela. It was a whispered entreaty.

They moved together—as if they were magnets compelled toward each other.

His lips touched hers—and her response was instant.

Heat swept through her. Flames, igniting a desire that was unexpected and shocking in its intensity. She clung to his shoulders as he kissed her, his lips pressing harder. His tongue, tasting of coffee, swept into her mouth, and her legs felt shaky.

She could smell his aftershave, crisp and clean. She felt the slight stubble of hair on his cheek as it pressed into hers.

Fire touched her nerve endings as he pulled her closer.

A murmur escaped her lips. She couldn’t help it.

Pamela. His groan, a deep, throaty tone, sent a shiver through her body. He pulled back slightly, and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her throat before capturing her lips again. His hands on her waist tugged her closer. She could feel his arousal.

That triggered a different reaction. He was aroused, she was impassioned—and this was crazy.

At this rate, they could end up in—she snapped back to reality at the thought.

She pulled back.

Evan, she gasped.

His blue eyes, dark with desire, regarded her.

And something seemed to awaken in him, too, as if he realized just where this could go.

He stepped back too.

For a long moment, they stared at each other.

Then he cupped her face again. Pamela. It was a whisper. I didn’t mean…well, maybe I did. A grin briefly touched his mouth, then disappeared. You—you still pack quite a punch, Pamela.

DEDICATION

To My Daughter-in-Law

Carlee M. Denholtz

And to the entire Cimicata Family

I’m glad we’re related!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again, many thanks to my friend Christina Lynn Whited for sharing so much knowledge on all things paranormal!

Thanks to our daughter for The Lightning Center’s logo design!

And thank you to Judi Fennell for the edits, formatting, and gorgeous covers for this series!

PROLOGUE

Ohhh!

Pamela Costigan sat up in bed, clutching her comforter. Her dream had been one of her most vivid, most real ones.

And she knew it was one of her precognitive dreams. They were different than regular dreams. Colors were brighter; images sharper. Sometimes she could even smell things in these dreams.

This one had been especially realistic.

She’d been in Evan’s arms, and he’d been bending down to kiss her.

And she’d wanted to kiss him.

That couldn’t be right. Why on earth would she be kissing her ex-lover in some future time?

She opened the drawer in her night stand and grabbed her sketchbook. Years ago, she’d gotten into the habit of drawing her most vivid precognitive dreams. As the people in the drawing came alive with her pencil, she frowned. Her with Evan Lassiter? Damn. That was the last thing either of them wanted.

When she finished, she stared at the picture. It was a good drawing, aside from the fact that it was of two people who disliked each other now.

Evan, with his wavy, dark blond hair and blue eyes, was tall and slender but with broad shoulders and obvious muscles from his regimen of swimming and working out.

She was shorter than Evan’s six feet two inches by a good eight inches. Her picture was a black and white sketch, but she’d drawn her own long, blonde hair and hazel eyes. In the picture—taken right from the heart of her dream—they were gazing into each others’ eyes with longing. Evan’s hands were on her shoulders, and in the dream he was just about to kiss her.

Why would he want to?

More importantly, why on earth would she let him?

CHAPTER I

Pam juggled her shopping bags as she followed her friend Tracey into the lobby of their hotel.

I just love their chocolate, Tracey said to Pam as they entered.

A visit to Ghirardelli Square while they were in San Francisco for their conference had been high on their list of goals. The two were carrying bags laden with the luscious treats, both for themselves and some for gifts.

Me too., Pam said.

As they walked toward the elevators, Tracey’s phone rang. Give me a minute, she said.

Pam knew Tracey had been expecting a call from another friend who wanted to meet them for breakfast tomorrow.

No problem. Pam headed to a grouping of couches, intending to sit down, as Tracey moved to a quieter corner

As she passed the group of elevators, one slid open.

Standing there was Evan Lassiter.

She almost tripped, stifling the gasp that rose to her mouth as he emerged. What was he—

His arm shot out, as if he was about to grip hers.

She quickly balanced herself. No way did she want him touching her. She could hear a rushing sound in her ears, and blood pumped through her body.

Pamela. He looked only slightly surprised to see her. His arm dropped.

Hello, Evan. She deliberately made her voice cool and calm. Professional. She congratulated herself silently on that achievement.

Hi. He matched her with his most professional, soothing doctor’s tone.

He had to be here for the same psychiatric conference she and Tracey were attending. It figures.

Here for the conference? she asked, keeping her voice neutral.

Of course. Surprisingly, he flashed her a smile. It reminded her of just how handsome he was.

The first time she’d met him, she’d felt like she had been struck by lightning. And she knew exactly how that felt from experience.

Now—unbelievably—she felt like she’d been struck by lightning twice.

He had deep blue eyes—bluer than most blue-eyed blonds had. They were fringed with full lashes. His oval face had aristocratic, almost British-looking features. His dark blond hair curled slightly and gave him a boyish look.

She hadn’t seen him for years, but he still had those well-developed shoulders and strong-looking arm muscles. The results of years of swimming. It was apparent in the dark blue polo shirt he wore over jeans.

Pam gulped as her pulse sped up. How could she be having this physical reaction to the man who had broken her heart years ago? This wildly inappropriate attraction?

I noticed your name in the program, he said, his voice still even-keeled. I see you’re giving a talk about your success with The Lightning Center. There was just the slightest edge to the word success.

She bristled. Yes, I am. She infused pride in her voice when she responded. She was proud of The Lightning Center and all the research they’d done in just under four years. As the resident psychiatrist there, she worked with the clients who had been struck by lightning, and developed paranormal abilities like ESP, precognition, telekinesis, astral projection and predicting earthquakes—all carefully documented by their research team. Her patients had their lives irrevocably changed--sometimes for the better, but not always. And, in almost every case, there was a period of adjustment as they got used to their new, exciting psychic abilities.

He sent her a skeptical look. Still treating parapsychology as if it were a science? There was no mistaking the sardonic tone of his voice.

She raised her chin. That’s right. She managed to keep her voice even although she was fuming inside.

He’d never believed in her family’s project, never believed in the enhanced ability of people to rely on more than their five senses. Even though it’d happened to her and her twin brother, Parker. They’d been struck by lightning as children—and had developed different abilities afterwards.

He stared for a moment. Well, good luck with your talk. Thursday, right?

Yes. You should come hear it, she snapped, then wanted to kick herself. Why would she want him there? He thought the whole Lightning Center was one crazy idea.

I plan to, he said.

Ugh. Just what she did not need--another skeptic! There were enough of them around, without adding another one.

Then I’ll see you there, she said, meeting his eyes.

A jolt of electricity went through her. She tried to mentally squash it.

I’m sorry we never had our meeting at The Lightning Center, he added.

Was he being sarcastic? Meredith tried to meet with you, she said. In fact, her older sister had tried to meet with Evan several times, to iron out their differences of opinion and his professional criticisms.

I told her, I only wanted to meet with you, not her or Parker.

Pamela gripped her bags tighter. Why did he only want to speak to her? Well, perhaps we can arrange it sometime after the conference. She kept her voice cool and non-committal.

I’d like that. He said it solemnly. By the way, I heard Parker and Meredith are both engaged to be married. Congratulations to them.

Thank you. She wondered if he was trying to make a point other than simple congratulations. I have to get going. ’Bye.

Bye, he echoed.

She could feel Evan’s eyes following her as she walked to the elevator, her head held high. She’d text Tracey and let her know she was headed to their room.

She pressed the button and the elevator doors slid open at once. Stepping in, she refrained from glancing back. But she knew he was still watching her.

Damn. Evan Lassiter at the conference where she was giving a presentation. Evan in the audience. She hoped he didn’t get under her skin.

Evan stared after Pam for a long time, even after the elevator doors slid shut.

Wow. He hadn’t expected that running into his old girlfriend would be such a punch in the gut.

Man, she was still gorgeous. Petite, with shoulder-length blonde hair streaked with gold—she was slender and had beautiful hazel eyes that sometimes looked gold, sometimes almost green. She usually wore a ready smile, though not today. Today she’d looked cool and collected.

He’d been aware that she’d be at the conference, presenting a workshop. What he hadn’t expected was just how strong a reaction he’d have to her. Reminders of the many hours they’d spent together, laughing, talking, making love. Images flashed through his brain.

He’d also seen the appreciate looks her curvy body had gotten from men standing in the lobby.

No one would ever know—unless, like him, you knew her personally—that she was a black belt in karate, and successful in a difficult profession. And that she had some truly weird theories.

They’d met in medical school. He’d admired her intelligence, her compassion. He hadn’t paid much attention to her fascination with the paranormal. But as time passed, he’d begun to wonder about her theories and beliefs. He’d met some truly ditzy people going into psychiatry—but not Pamela. She had good common sense. At least, he’d thought so at first. They’d been true lovers—both physically and spiritually. Until the argument that tore them apart.

He sighed. He’d known she was one of the people presenting a workshop here since he’d first seen the list of workshops. Maybe—just maybe—it had been one reason why he was curious enough to take a short vacation from his bustling practice to attend this conference across the country from his home state of New Jersey. He was curious—no, more than curious—to hear how her theories had developed, and hopefully, changed; as well as the results of her family’s studies on the psychological effects of lightning strikes on people.

But his overwhelming feeling right now wasn’t one of curiosity. It was one of attraction. Or, maybe, it was simple lust.

The minute he’d seen her, it had been as if a match had been struck inside him, lighting up a dark corner of his soul.

He’d felt the searing heat that went along with that light in the darkness. And a desire to touch Pam again.

It was intense.

He hadn’t felt anything this strong—this kind of pull of sexual attraction—in a long, long time.

Maybe not since the first time he’d actually met Pam.

Excuse me. A chubby woman brushed past him.

He was standing in the middle of the lobby, staring at the elevators. With another sigh he decided to get the snack he’d come down here for and then retreat to his hotel room for the night. He had a journal he wanted to read, he wanted to look over the conference brochure and decide on which workshops to attend, and he needed to call his oldest sister. She was sure to ask for more money, and he had decided enough was enough. She had it better than many people did, and had to stop playing the poor me card. He was not looking forward to that conversation.

He’d better get that over with.

While Tracey was in the shower, Pam took the opportunity to call her sister Meredith and check on things at The Lightning Center.

Hel-lo… ? Meredith sounded sleepy.

Pam sucked in a breath. Sorry, Meredith, I know there’s a time difference but I didn’t think you’d be sleeping. It was only eight o’clock here, eleven in New Jersey, and Meredith didn’t usually go to bed until after eleven.

I was tired. Is everything ok? Her sister sounded more alert now.

She heard a masculine murmur through the phone. Richard, Meredith’s fiancé.

Yes, fine. How about you?

Everything’s fine here. What are you up to?

San Francisco’s a fascinating city. It’s been years since I visited, and I’m enjoying it all over again. Listen, I’m sorry I woke you. We can catch up another time.

No, that’s ok. Doesn’t the conference start tomorrow? Good luck with your speech!

Thanks. I may need it, she replied drily. You’ll never guess who’s here for the conference.

Her sister was silent for a moment. Then, Evan?

Yes. Pam blew out a breath.

Well, it is a popular conference, Meredith pointed out. And you knew it would pull in a lot of psychiatrists from all over.

I know. Pam sighed. It’s just--why him? And why did I react so strongly to him?

How did you feel when you saw him? Meredith asked cautiously.

Spoken like a counselor, Pam said, striving to sound light. Her sister was the social worker at The Lightning Center, although with more and more patients finding them, they were considering hiring another person, at least part-time.

Well… ?

She sighed again. He’s still hot, she admitted. Meredith was one of the few people she would confess those feelings to. And I didn’t like the fact I’m still attracted to him.

Ohhh… Meredith murmured. Well… remember when I felt the same way about Richard?

That was different, Pam protested. You had no prior relationship with him.

True. But maybe you should see if—

Not going there, Pam stated. Her older sister, who was in love and thought the world was glorious, had become an over-the-top optimist lately.

Meredith was silent for a moment. Oh-kay, she said slowly. I can understand that.

Shower’s all yours! Tracey called as she left the bathroom, toweling her brown hair.

I’ll speak to you in a couple of days, Pam said hastily. She wanted to discuss the whole situation with Tracey, too. Tracey was one of her closest friends—they’d met while in medical school, and had become close right away. Plus Tracey knew Evan from those days when he dated Pam. Maybe she would have some insight as to how to handle Evan if Pam saw him again at the conference.

And Pam suspected she would see him.

Ok, talk to you soon, Meredith said.

She ended the call. Hey, Tracey, she called out to her friend. I have something I want to discuss with you after I take a shower.

She could use some objective advice from her level-headed psychiatrist friend.

And here, Pam said, clicking to move to the next slide on her presentation, is a chart which shows the improvement of Subject S, as we worked with her to control her astral projections. The graph showed how Sabrina, Parker’s fiancée, had responded to their work with her. After careful coaching, she had more control over these night-time projections and could decide when half-asleep whether to do them, or not. The last few were lucidly decided upon, and you can see she refused to do two. In the beginning, she had no control over where she went or even if she wanted to. She returned to the later parts of the graph. Here, she decided to follow her instincts and travel.

She looked at her audience, conscious that making eye contact was important.

Which meant that, of course, she couldn’t help noticing Evan. He was in the front row, slightly to her left.

And she could feel his eyes on her as she spoke.

Pam talked for a few minutes more, displaying charts with tests results—neurological, general, psychiatric and Meredith’s social worker assessment.

As you can see, she concluded, facing her audience, at the end of several months of therapy and testing, Subject S could still astral project. But she felt better about it, controlled the experience better—we have video of the events—and was generally more positive and in a much better place emotionally than she had been before she came to The Lightning Center. The same was true of Subject B, whose chart I showed you first.

An older woman midway down the room raised her hand. "What about the person who saw auras, and predicted someone’s death? How did she feel?’

Pam clicked to a different part of her presentation. Here is Subject J’s charts. She discussed them briefly. The subject had been a success, but not as rousing a success as Sabrina had been.

Question, Dr. Costigan. She recognized the voice, and sharp awareness pricked her skin. She raised her eyes to meet Evan’s, chagrinned that his voice still had an effect on her. His hand was raised.

"Yes?’ She kept her tone professional and courteous.

What has been your biggest failure? Just curious, you understand. An organization such as The Lightning Center must have had a few cases they couldn’t help.

From anyone else, she would have seen it as a legitimate question. But, from him.it seemed as if he was baiting her. Anger simmered in her veins. He knew Noreen Eversham had been their biggest failure, mostly because the cantankerous older woman had gone straight to him and complained.

I guess that would be Subject N.E., she replied coolly. She was a woman who came to us, complaining that since she was struck by lightning, she could move objects—telekinesis. We’ve worked with several other people who have this ability, she added.

Surprised murmurs echoed in the room. She wanted to groan. Did everyone love stories of failure?

We helped her to learn to move objects when she wanted to, to concentrate, and not have things randomly moving when she got upset, Pam continued. "She became better at it. We also worked with her on herself-esteem. She was an only child whose parents had had very high standards for her and were disappointed when she didn’t become a doctor or lawyer or C.P.A. So despite the attention she got, she always felt like she didn’t measure up, and she became very