Shifting closer to him to more easily see his palms, she explained, “Palmistry is just as much about observation as it is interpretation. You can make some deductions about a person by noting if their palm is smooth or callused, for example, or if their nails are well-manicured or bitten to the quick. It all has meaning.”
“Interesting.”
The word sounded gruff. It told her that Callan was just as affected by her touch as she had been by his.
How nice.
She kept her attention on his palms, using her fingertip to trace the contours of his left hand. “Our hands are made up of mounts and plains that correspond to the most significant areas of our lives. Then there are the lines, which a reader will analyze based on their length, depth, and curvature. Every curve and crease can be used to make predictions about a person’s future. Even the general shape of our hands tells a story.”
“It does?”
She nodded and looked back up at him. Even in the soft lighting, she saw that his pupils had dilated. She caught the elevated rhythm of his pulse when she placed her thumb against his left wrist to better support his hand for her reading.
Funny…she’d never thought of Palmistry as a particularly sensual craft. Now it felt like a form of foreplay.
“Hand shapes correspond to the four elements,” she said to keep her thoughts on track. “The shape can tell the reader about a person’s personality. Your hand, for example, has a square palm and long fingers. That’s representative of the element of air, which tells me you’re intellectually curious. You have strong analytical abilities and communication skills, and you constantly crave stimulation.”
“If that’s your way of saying I’m easily bored, you’re spot-on,” he said.
Her mouth curved. “Sounds like you need a woman who can keep you on your toes.”
“Sure. Got anyone in mind?”
Laughing, she shook her head and went back to studying his palms. “The different mounts and plains offer important insights about a person. An elevated mount tells me you’re well balanced in that area of your life, while dips or lower mounts show me where you might be more challenged and have room for growth. A prominent mount reveals an area of your life that might be overemphasized. Does that all make sense?”
“In general, yeah.”
“Good. And I’ll give you brownie points for not commenting on the many times I used the word ‘mount.’”
“It was tough to pass up.”
“I imagine it was.”
She shared a humored glance with him before scanning the dance floor to check on Allison. She was still grooving with Christian, pressing her body close enough to his to tell Roxy it wouldn’t be much longer before the two of them took off.
A pity. She was having fun. But tonight wasn’t about her.
“What can you tell me about my mounts?” Callan asked in a deliberately suggestive tone near her ear, pulling her attention back to him.
She ignored the way his nearness affected her. “You’re in serious danger of losing those brownie points.”
“What? I meant these mounts,” he said innocently, holding up his hands.
“Mmhmm.” She shook her head at him and once again took hold of his hands. “I’ll give you the quick-and-dirty reading since it’s tough to see the nuances of your lines in this lighting.” She pointed at his right hand. “This raised mount here under your index finger tells me you’re a strong leader with highly developed confidence. Potentially overdeveloped.”
He issued a noncommittal sound to that.
“These mounts here,” she said, running her finger along the base of his middle and ring fingers, “are underdeveloped, telling me that when it comes to having personal insight into your impact on others and shouldering responsibility, you’ve got some growing to do.”
This time he remained silent. That wasn’t uncommon during a reading when someone heard something they didn’t want to hear.
Pressing on, she caressed the mount under his pinky finger. “Now here is where you’re the most well-rounded. This area touches on a person’s adaptability and social skills. I’m seeing someone with a strategic and resourceful mind who is quite intelligent.”
“I could’ve told you that,” he said.
That earned a level stare.
“Sorry. Carry on.”
“Fine.” She started tracing the lines of his hand. “Our hands have five primary lines corresponding to the head, the heart, our life line, our fate line, and our sun line. Not surprisingly, your sun line is among your most notable. That’s the line related to fame and public image. Also not surprisingly, your love line reveals a potential for restlessness in your relationships. See these short lines crossing it?”
He brought his hand closer to his face to see it better. “Yeah.”
“Those tell me you’re a huge flirt whose head is easily turned.”
“Well, now, that all depends on the woman I’m with,” he said with a wink.
Which just proved her point.
“Mmhmm,” she said again. “I’ve come this far. Might as well let me finish.” She pulled his hand back down and took a minute to observe the rest of his lines and how they interacted with each other. “Now that’s interesting.”
“What?”
“Was it always your goal to play hockey?”
He tilted his head as though he didn’t understand the question.
“What I mean,” she clarified, “is did you personally choose to play professional hockey?” When he still didn’t reply, she added, “Your life line tells me that your path has been heavily influenced by others, and your fate line tells me you’re not fully content on that path. I suspect that someone else in your life put you on that path and pushed you along to where you are now, but if you had a choice in the matter, you would have gone another way.”
Callan’s gaze remained steady on hers as he slowly pulled his hands away. He lifted his glass and tossed back the rest of his drink.
“You should’ve had Gypsy fortune teller included in that bio of yours,” he said after a moment.
“Actually, the term ‘Gypsy’ is generally considered a racial slur among the Romani,” she instinctively replied.
He gave her a pondering look. “Is it? I always just associated it with someone with an adventurous spirit and insatiable wanderlust.”
Oh, my.
Her heart did a whole other kind of dance over his poetic turn of phrase. There was something unbelievably hot about a smart, well-spoken athlete.
And she happened to agree with him, which was why she had wanted to get a tattoo reading “Wild Heart, Gypsy Soul” on her eighteenth birthday. But her grandmother—the first generation in her family born in the U.S. rather than Bavaria—convinced her to change it to “Wild Heart, Roma Soul” instead.
“Not everyone sees it that way,” she said.
“Are you Romani?”
It was her turn to finish her drink. She rarely shared personal details when she was out like this. The Romani comment had simply slipped out.
“I’ve learned all kinds of fun trivia over the years,” she hedged. “As I’m sure you know, a broad knowledge base is an essential part of the wingwoman’s repertoire.”