Amaryllis

Chapter 10

"Well, dear," Hannah said on the other end of the phone, "I think that wraps up the personal characteristics section of the questionnaire. I must say, you've become terribly specific about what you want in a husband."

Amaryllis fiddled with her desk pen and studied the notes she had made on a sheet of paper. "The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had some definite preferences, Aunt Hannah."

"Let me see if I've got it all right. Dark hair, gray eyes, mid-thirties, successful entrepreneur, small-town or rural background, university degree. You want a man with some knowledge of hand-to-hand fighting skills. Someone who is not afraid to take a few chances." Hannah paused. "Oh, yes, one who is a conservative dresser."

"I think that about sums it up. Aunt Hannah."

"Picky, picky, picky," Hannah muttered. "Very well, I've filled out the rest of the questionnaire for you, so we're finished with the initial phase of the process. Your great- aunt Sophy gave me a hand with some of it."

A small degree of relief went through Amaryllis at that news. "Great-aunt Sophy knows me well."

"She's the one who told me not to worry too much about how choosy you've suddenly become," Hannah said dryly. "She said it was a positive sign. She thinks it means that you're starting to take a more active interest in this whole process."

Amaryllis smiled in spite of her mood. Great-aunt Sophy could always be counted upon to throw a different light on the subject. A memory flickered in the back of her mind. It dated from her seventh year.

It had been a hot summer day. Lower Bellevue had been baking in relentless sunshine for nearly a month. Sophy had taken Amaryllis and a young companion named Linda into town. The girls had gone into the ice cream parlor to purchase cones while Sophy had done some banking next door.

When the two children had emerged, dripping cones in their hands, Linda had pointed to a striking woman who was getting out of an expensive car.

"Know who that is?" Linda gave Amaryllis a sly look. "That's your grandma."

Amaryllis studied the elegant, dark-haired woman. "She's not my grandmother. My grandmother has blond hair and she's not as tall."

"Everyone has two grandmothers, dummy. That lady was your daddy's mother. Her name is Mrs. Bailey. That makes her your other grandmother. My morn told me so."

"Don't believe you."

"Go ask her," Linda urged.

"Okay, I will." Amaryllis went forward with determination. A question had been raised. It would be answered. She would prove Linda was dumb, and that would be the end of the matter.

The closer Amaryllis got to the stranger, the more impressed she was. With her expensive clothes, imperious stature, and aristocratic air, Elizabeth Bailey was a vision on the streets of Lower Bellevue.

Elizabeth did not see Amaryllis until she felt the tug on her skirt. She turned her head and glanced down. A strange look appeared in her green eyes.

"Let go of my skirt," Elizabeth said very quietly. "Do not touch me."

"Excuse me," Amaryllis said. "You're beautiful. My friend says you're my grandmother. Are you my grandmother?"

Elizabeth's face tightened." Of course I'm not your grand- mother. You have no grandmother. You're a bastard." She turned and walked away without another word.

Amaryllis stood staring after her, ice cream dripping on the sidewalk, until Sophy emerged from the bank. Other children had called Amaryllis a bastard. But this was the first time an adult had done so to her face. When an adult said something, you had to take it seriously.

Sophy had taken one look at the car parked at the curb and another at Amaryllis's face. She had put two and two together instantly. Heedless of the melting ice cream, she had pulled Amaryllis into her arms.

"Don't take any notice of Elizabeth Bailey, dear."

"Is she really my grandmother?"

"Yes, but she doesn't want to admit it because she feels guilty."

"Why?"

"It's a long story, sweetie, and this is neither the time nor the place to tell it."

"She hates me. And I hate her."

"Someday you'll understand."

"What will I understand?" Amaryllis demanded with the stubborn determination to learn the answers that was to become a lifelong trait.

"Someday you'll know why Elizabeth did what she did," Sophy said, "and why she can't forgive herself or anyone else."

"But what did she do?"

Sophy sighed. "She's the one who forced your daddy to marry the wrong woman. Elizabeth knew from the beginning that it was a bad match, but all she could see was money and land and status. She thought those things would make your father happy, but they didn't. All he wanted was your mother, but he was too young to fight Elizabeth."

"I hate her," Amaryllis said. She whirled around and flung her ice cream cone at Elizabeth Bailey's expensive car. The contents of the cone spattered across the windshield.

Sophy contemplated the mess with a curious expression. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

The ice cream cone incident was the last time she had ever done something so blatantly outrageous, so reckless, so out of control, Amaryllis reflected. Until she had met Lucas Trent.

"This is so exciting, isn't it?" Hannah said on the other end of the phone.

"Thrilling."

"I'll mail this form off to your counselor, Mrs. Reeton, this afternoon. You should be hearing from her soon. She'll want to schedule an appointment for the two of you to get together for the formal interview."

"Can't wait," Amaryllis said. "If you're through with the questionnaire, I should get back to work, Aunt Hannah."

"Of course, dear." Hannah cleared her throat discreetly. "How is your social life?"

"My social life?"

"Are you still seeing Mr. Trent?"

Amaryllis's mouth went dry. "Occasionally."

"What a pity he's a strong talent. Now that I think about it, he meets some of the criteria that you listed on the questionnaire, doesn't he? Dark-haired, successful entrepreneur--"

"It's purely a superficial resemblance. Aunt Hannah. I really have to go. Give my love to Uncle Oscar and the rest of the family."

"I will. Oh, by the way, Oscar and I will be in the city the day after tomorrow. We'll spend the night at that little hotel near your place since you don't have an extra bedroom."

"Great. I'll look forward to it. See you soon."

"And you're still planning on coming home to Lower Bellevue for Sophy's birthday party week after next, of course."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, you know that. Good- bye, Aunt Hannah."

"Good-bye, dear. See you on Friday."

Amaryllis dropped the phone into its cradle and went back to the notes she had been making when Hannah had interrupted her. None of the points she had listed connected with anything in any way that formed a pattern or inspired a flash of intuition, but she could feel the storm clouds of wrongness gathering. A growing restlessness per- vaded her entire being. She needed answers.

She studied what she had written on the pad.

1. Prism using Landreth's techniques and style focuses for Madison Sheffield. Unethical, but not illegal, use of Sheffield's talent. Prism most likely trained by Gifford, not Landreth. Same techniques account for similarities in focus style. Landreth would not have approved.

2. Phone call indicating that there was something mysterious about Landreth and that Vivien of the Veils might have info. Gifford suggests that call was possibly made by Irene Dunley because Irene secretly loved Landreth. Irene knew about Vivien of the Veils. But what did she think Vivien might know?

3. Note on Landreth's calendar made the day of his death indicates a three o'clock appointment with Gifford. Gifford claims to know nothing about it. Says he would never have met with Landreth in any event. Serious animosity between Landreth and Gifford.

4. Landreth died at approximately seven o'clock in the evening, according to newspaper accounts. Fall from path along cliff near his weekend cabin. No sign of foul play. Did he cancel his three o'clock appointment with Gifford? Did he change his mind? Did something else come up?

5. Few people mourned the passing of Jonathan Landreth. He was respected, but he was not well liked except by me and Irene Dunley. Did he have some actual enemies? Did anyone else dislike him as much as Gifford?

Amaryllis put down her pen and pondered. Her intuition was churning, but perhaps she was overreacting to the scanty evidence. After all, a lot was going on in her life these days.

Mentally, she composed another list. This one included all her recent stress factors.

1. Involved in a passionate affair with an unsuitable talent.

2. First visit to a syn-sex club. Meeting with stripper. Attacked in Founders Square. Learned that Lucas was an off-the-chart talent. Made love. Big night, all things considered.

3. In the midst of registering with a marriage agency.

4. Engaged in act of breaking and entering.

No doubt about it, her stress level was high, Amaryllis concluded. And the list of stress factors was lengthening with each passing hour.

But the questions would not go away.

The door slammed open. Clementine charged into the office as if she sat astride her high-powered ice-cycle. She throbbed with outrage.

"What in the five hells is going on, Lark?" Clementine planted her hands on Amaryllis's desk and thrust out her strong chin. "If you're not happy here at Psynergy, Inc., tell me about it. Don't go looking for another job behind my back. You want a raise? Is that it? You've only been here six months, but you did bring in a major client. I'm willing to negotiate."

Amaryllis had been working for Clementine long enough to become accustomed to her volatile boss's moods. "Calm down. I'm not looking for another job. Whatever gave you that idea?"

Clementine's steel rings glittered as she drummed all ten fingers on Amaryllis's desk. "I just got back from having lunch with Gracie. She says that gossip has it you were seen coming out of the offices of Unique Prisms this morning."

Understanding dawned. Amaryllis smiled ruefully. "Gossip has it right. I went to talk to Gifford Osterley. He and I go back a long way together. We knew each other when we both worked at the university."

"I'm aware of that." Clementine straightened and scowled down at Amaryllis. "I thought that whatever was going on between the two of you was over."

"It is. I went to see him about a business matter."

"What kind of business takes you to a rival firm?" Clementine demanded suspiciously.

Amaryllis hesitated and then made a decision. "I discovered that on the day of his death Professor Landreth had an appointment with Gifford. I wanted to ask Gifford if Landreth had kept the appointment."

"What does Landreth have to do with any of this?"

"I'm not sure. Clementine, I know this is going to sound strange, but I've begun to wonder if Landreth's death was something more than an accident."

Clementine whistled softly. She sprawled in the nearest chair. "What makes you think that?" Her eyes narrowed. "Prism intuition?"

"Partially. But there are some other things that make me uneasy." Amaryllis told her about the phone call, the visit to Vivien, and the note about the three o'clock appointment with Gifford on Landreth's calendar. She decided not to explain just how she had come to see the appointment calendar.

When she was finished, Clementine stared at her, incredulous.

"You went to a syn-sex club?"

Amaryllis blushed. "Yes. I wanted to talk to Vivien of the Veils."

"Alone?" Clementine's voice rose. "You went to a syn-sex club all by yourself?"

"Not exactly. A friend accompanied me."

"What friend?"

Amaryllis pressed her lips together. "Lucas Trent."

"Trent? Five hells."

"He accompanied me because I invited him," Amaryllis said quickly. "It wasn't his idea."

"I wasn't talking about him, I was talking about you. I can't quite envision you in a syn-sex club."

Amaryllis felt herself turn a brighter shade of pink. "The synergistically generated sex was all an act."

"No kidding."

"The dancers didn't actually have sex on stage. They just simulated the motions. The talent and prism who worked in the show didn't focus any real sexual feelings, either. Lucas and I checked using his detector-talent."

Clementine's mouth kicked up at the corner. "You were expecting maybe the real thing? A focus-induced orgasm, courtesy of a bunch of syn-sex nightclub performers?"

"Clementine."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to embarrass you." Clementine laced her fingers together and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. "What I wouldn't have given to see Trent's reaction when you invited him to go to the club. He must have thought he'd fallen through the curtain and come out on some planet on the other side of the universe."

Amaryllis failed to see the humor in the situation. "I explained that it was a business matter."

"Sure." Clementine sat forward in her chair. "Okay, tell me what this Vivien of the Veils had to say about Landreth."

"Not much, unfortunately. Just that she had seen Professor Landreth the day before he died and he seemed a little more tense than usual."

Clementine's brows rose. "Tense?"

"Vivien claimed that Landreth was always tense."

"That's what Gracie said, too."

"Gracie?"

"She worked with him on a committee a couple of years ago. One of those town-and-gown things where academics and businesspeople get together to discuss matters of mutual interest. She said Landreth was a real pain in the ass. Very anal retentive."

Amaryllis decided to let that observation pass. "At any rate, after I spoke to Vivien, I decided to talk to Gifford. I wanted to ask him about the three o'clock appointment with Professor Landreth. He said he knew nothing about it."

"Hmm."

"Clementine, I'm beginning to wonder if Professor Landreth discovered that Gifford was operating a bit over the line, ethically speaking. I know Landreth would never have approved ofGifford's business practices. The question is, did he know about them?"

"You think maybe Landreth made the appointment in order to confront Osterley about his business ethics?"

"Or lack thereof," Amaryllis said.

"I think I know where this is going. You're wondering if Osterley got pissed when he realized that Landreth might soil the reputation of his operation. You think your friend Gifford croaked the old dude to keep him quiet?"

"No, of course not." Amaryllis was shocked. "Gifford would never kill anyone."

"From what Gracie says, Osterley is the kind of guy who has a price. Pay it and you get his services. A man like that might kill to protect his business interests."

"Gifford may be unethical but he is no murderer. Perhaps that note on Landreth's calendar wasn't a scheduled appointment. Maybe the professor simply intended to call Gifford at three o'clock to discuss matters."

"And never made the call?"

"Or Gifford refused to take the call," Amaryllis said. "Clementine, it's all getting so complicated. I don't know what's going on, but I feel that something is very wrong."

"Look, no one respects a prism's intuition more than I do," Clementine said. "But, frankly, I think you're going off the deep end here. I'll admit that Unique Prisms may be operating on the shady side of the street, but I doubt that Osterley is actually doing anything illegal."

"I agree."

"Got to admit, I wish we had Osterley's client list. From what Gracie says, it includes a nice selection of the movers and shakers in the city. We're lucky Trent didn't go to Unique Prisms in the first place."

"Lucas told me that he chose Psynergy, Inc. because he wanted to deal with a reputable agency," Amaryllis said.

"Good for him." Clementine grinned. "Wonder what he'll say when he finds out that you went to see your old flame today."

"What do you mean? Lucas knew I intended to speak to Gifford."

"Men are kind of weird about stuff like that."

"How would you know?"

"Because women are kind of weird about it, too."

"You're talking about jealousy," Amaryllis said quietly. "Trust me, Lucas is highly unlikely to feel that emotion."

"Yeah?" Clementine pushed herself to her feet. "What makes you think that?"

"He's not the type."

"Bat-snake shit."

Amaryllis composed herself. "Furthermore, he's in the middle of a marriage agency registration, just as I am. Neither one of us has any reason to become jealous in a relationship that we both know has no future."

"You're sure about the no future part?"

Amaryllis wrinkled her nose. "Believe me, even if we weren't high-class talent and full-spectrum prism, we still wouldn't be a good match. Lucas and I have almost nothing in common."

Clementine looked thoughtful. "Gracie and I said that the first time we met each other. Couldn't imagine why the agency had matched us."

He had no right to be feeling this way, Lucas thought as he climbed Amaryllis's front steps that evening. Jealousy was not a logical response to the situation. His relationship with Amaryllis was nothing more than a short-term affair. No strings attached. They were both just killing some time in a mutually pleasurable relationship until they were ready to meet their respective agency dates.

He had turned in the completed Synergistic Connections questionnaire this afternoon. Hobart Batt would be calling any day to schedule the next phase of the process.

Lucas determined to play it cool. He was the Iceman. He would not allow his emotions to get in the way of his common sense. He'd done that once before on the occasion of his first marriage, and the results had not been good.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Amaryllis's footsteps sounded on the tile floor of the hall as she hurried toward the door. Light, quick, eager. It sounded as if she was flying down the hall to throw herself into his arms.

Without warning, Lucas's mind conjured up an illusion that needed no prism to bring it into focus. It was all too painfully clear. As though he stood in a long gallery lined with endless mirrors, he looked into the future.

He saw a lifetime of greetings from a wife he did not yet know. Simultaneously, he saw Amaryllis hurting herself over and over again into the arms of the stranger who would be her husband. The icy pool inside him grew deeper and colder.

The door in front of him opened.

"Lucas? Is something wrong?"

He came back to the present with a jolt. Amaryllis was smiling at him, her eyes quizzical. The aroma of something delicious cooking on the stove wafted toward him from the kitchen. He would pretend that everything was normal. This was just a short-term thing. No future.

"You went to see Ostertey today." So much for being the Iceman.

"Yes, I did." Amaryllis stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth lightly against his. She stepped back before he could respond. "I told you that I had to speak to him about that appointment."

"So?" Lucas stalked into the hall. "What did he have to say?"

"He claims he knew nothing about it." Amaryllis took his jacket and hung it in a closet. "He said he would never have made an appointment with Landreth. He pointed out that he and Landreth had not parted on good terms."

"Why didn't you call me first?" Think Iceman, Lucas told himself as he went down the hall toward the kitchen. Cold, calm. No emotion. No jealousy. No future. "I thought we were partners in this thing."

"Partners?" Amaryllis hurried after him. "I hadn't actually thought of our association as a partnership."

"Is that right? I figure that under the circumstances the least I deserve is partnership status." Lucas stalked into the kitchen and started to open cupboards in a methodical fashion. "We've been through a lot together during the past few days, you and 1."

"That's very true." She frowned as he yanked open another cupboard door. "Lucas, what are you looking for?"

"Something drinkable." He got lucky on the fourth cupboard. "I thought I remembered seeing that bottle in here."

"Help yourself." Amaryllis came around the edge of the counter and lifted the lid of a pot that was sitting on the stove. "Are you always this moody and difficult when you're annoyed?"

"I am never moody and difficult." Lucas jerked open a drawer, scanned the contents, and seized a corkscrew. "But I do occasionally get irritated. And I am definitely irritated at the moment."

"I'm sorry if you feel that I slighted you today, but I honestly thought I could handle Gifford better if I talked to him alone."

A sinking feeling hit Lucas. "Handle him?"

"I thought I could get the truth from him."

"Because the two of you have a history?" Lucas snapped the opener into position and began to pull the cork with a rough, efficient twisting movement.

"We were friends once. Colleagues."

"Not lovers." Lucas jerked out the cork. "Never lovers."

"No." Amaryllis concentrated on stirring the contents of the pot. "He's changed."

"Is that a fact?"

"Clementine said you might be jealous," Amaryllis said softly. "I told her she was wrong."

Lucas stilled, one hand resting on the bottle. He met Amaryllis's eyes. "Jealousy has nothing to do with this."

"That's what I said."

"But speaking as your partner, "Lucas said very carefully, "and as your lover, I feel that I have some cause for concern. If Gifford Osterley is connected to Landreth's death, he might be tempted to drag you into the mess."

"I understand," Amaryllis said in a subdued tone. "But as I told Clementine, I can't bring myself to believe that Gifford is a murderer."

"Don't rely too much on your prism intuition."

"Funny you should say that." She gave him a strangely shuttered look. "I keep giving myself the same advice."

The evening did not go well after that. Conversation was stilted. The atmosphere was uncomfortably tense. Amaryllis was very polite, but it was obvious, even to a non-intuitive talent, that she was not happy. Lucas had a hunch that she was going to throw him out before bedtime.

He knew that he had only himself to blame. Barring some miracle, he would sleep alone tonight. It no doubt served him right, but the prospect was, nonetheless, deeply de- pressing.

At ten o'clock, desperate for something to break the lengthening silence between himself and Amaryllis, he picked up the television remote and switched on the evening news.

Nelson Buriton's square-jawed, clear-eyed visage materialized on the screen. The sight did nothing to elevate Lucas's mood. Buriton was covering a political event. Behind him Madison Sheffield could be seen standing at a podium.

Sheffield was speaking to a large crowd of people seated at circular tables. Lucas recognized the setting. It was a meeting of the New Seattle Business Association. He rarely attended the monthly gatherings himself.

Buriton gazed lovingly into the camera. His hair was rakishly windblown, even though he was indoors. He was wearing his trademark Western Islands jacket, although everyone else in the picture wore suits and ties. His teeth were very straight and very white.

"Good evening." Buriton's expression was devoutly sincere. "Once again the race for the governorship of New Seattle City-state tops the news. This evening Senator Madison Sheffield addressed the New Seattle Business Association. His theme, as usual, was a return to founders' values."

The camera shifted from Buriton to Madison Sheffield, who was holding forth in front of the audience. Sheffield's teeth were just as white and even as Buriton's, Lucas noticed. His expression was even more sincere.

"We have come a long way in the past two hundred years," Sheffield intoned. "But even as we reach out to seize the future, we must not forget the bedrock values of our past. We need those values now, as we have always needed them. We face a world that is still largely unexplored. The recent discovery of the alien artifacts reminds us all of just how many unknowns await us. We must be prepared."

Amaryllis, perched on the sofa beside Lucas, studied the screen. "There's no way Sheffield could be focusing charisma to a whole crowd of people."

"No," Lucas agreed. "He could only use the focus in one-on-one situations. The rest of the time he has to make do with his natural political charm."

"He has his fair share of that, but I don't think I'm going to vote for him, after all."

Politics was never a safe topic, Lucas reminded himself. Still, any conversation was better than no conversation, and he was very anxious to keep Amaryllis talking. "Mr. Founders' Values? I would have thought he would have been your ideal candidate."

"He talks a lot about founders' values, but a real First Generation founder would never resort to such under- handed tactics as Sheffield is using to get money for his campaign."

"Don't kid yourself. I have a hunch that the founders didn't survive by being nice guys."

Amaryllis whirled to confront him. "What a cynical thing to say. It was the values of the founders that enabled them to survive. Integrity. Justice. Courage. Honor. Determination. Those are the qualities that got the First Generation through the difficult times."

"You left out expediency," Lucas said. "Something tells me that our exalted founders were very expedient when necessary."

"How can you say that?"

"What's more, I'll give you odds that there were just as many Madison Sheffields in politics back in First Generation days as there are today. Some things never change."

Amaryllis simmered with righteous indignation. "Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?"

"Yes."

She opened her mouth to utter something that would no doubt have scorched his skin, but at the last minute she apparently changed her mind.

"Why?" she asked.

Lucas punched the button on the remote, blanking the screen. "Because I'm trying to get your attention. I feel like you've been slipping away from me all evening."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? We're supposed to be having an affair, but at the rate things are going, this will be one of the shortest relationships on record."

"Oh, Lucas." Amaryllis moved into his arms and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but this has been a difficult day."

"You can say that again." Lucas wrapped her close.

"What we have can't last long. We both know that."

"I don't want to talk about the future. I just want to enjoy the present."

"Yes."

Silence fell. Lucas felt the tension slowly ebb away into the night. Amaryllis was warm and soft and safe in his arms. For now, at least. He wanted to take her to a place where they could be alone together, far away from the rules and conventions of society.

"Link," Lucas said into Amaryllis's hair.

She said nothing, but he felt the moment of disorientation, and then he became aware of the prism taking shape on the psychic plane. It was powerful, strong, and clear. He eased psychic energy through it and began to shape an illusion.

A grotto formed around the sofa. The television set, desk, and other furnishings disappeared behind banks of lush ferns. Curved stone walls framed a deep jungle pool. The water was a mirrored surface that revealed nothing.

"Is this a real place?" Amaryllis's voice was soft with wonder.

"Yes."

"A special place in the islands?"

"Yes." Lucas added moss to the grotto walls and piled large rocks around the pool. He carpeted the floor with thick grass and draped streamers of brilliant yellow rose-orchids at various locations. He would have used amaryllises, but he had no idea of what a real, Earth-grown amaryllis looked like.

Amaryllis gazed at the scene. "It's beautiful. So peaceful."

"I found it years ago when I was a kid. I never told anyone else about it, not even Icy Claxby. Sometimes I went into the grotto and sat on the rocks looking down into the pool for hours at a time."

"What did you do there?"

"Lots of things," Lucas said. "I practiced controlling my talent. Sometimes I wondered if there were others like me around. I wanted to talk to someone else who understood what it was like to have so much power and to know that you had to keep it a secret."

Amaryllis snuggled closer. "I had a place like this, too. Not a jungle grotto, naturally. We lived in farm country. My hiding place was located in the barn loft. I remember how the sunlight filtered through the boards in the side walls. I could hear the animals moving about in their stalls. I used to go up there to think and read and just to be by myself."

"What did you think about?"

"Lots of things." Amaryllis's smile was fleeting. "When I was very young, I wasted a good deal of time plotting revenge against my grandmother on my father's side, Elizabeth Bailey. As I got older, I put my energies into figuring out how to get out of Lower Bellevue forever."

"Yeah? I thought you were a small-town girl at heart."

"For as long as I can remember, I wanted to escape to the city. I wanted to find a place where no one knew about my past. A place where people wouldn't be secretly watching to see if I would grow up to humiliate my family the way my mother had done. A place where the kids didn't point their fingers at me and call me names. A place where I could use my prism abilities to the fullest extent possible."

Lucas tightened his arm around her. "Sounds like we both had secrets we wanted to keep." He deliberately strengthened the illusion until the grotto seemed solid and real. The stone walls shielded the occupants of the sofa from the past and the future. He knew he had it right when he looked into the pool and sensed that it was bottomless.

"Lucas?"

"Hmm?"

"It feels good to use our skills together, doesn't it?"

"Very good."

"Don't you think it's strange that no one has ever documented a connection between sexual attraction and the act of holding a focus?"

"I don't think there is any true paranormal connection." He raised her chin on the edge of his hand and looked down into her eyes. "I think that the two things happened to coincide in our case. Just being around you arouses me. It makes sense that linking with you has the same effect."

She smiled and put her arms around his neck.

Lucas bent his head to kiss her.

The shrill jangle of the telephone shattered the illusion as surely as a buried stone shatters glass. Startled by the intrusive noise, Amaryllis broke the link.

"That's probably my aunt or uncle." She untangled herself from Lucas's arms and reached for the phone. "Hello? Yes, he's here. Just a second."

"Sorry about this." Lucas took the phone from her hand. "I left your number with my answering service." He spoke into the phone. "This is Trent."

"Lucas?" Dillon Rye's voice sounded strained. "Man, am I glad I finally located you. Listen, I'm in kind of a bind here. I hate to bother you, but I need some help. Fast."

"What's wrong?"

"It's a little hard to explain over the phone. The bottom line is that I sort of owe a guy some money and he, uh, wants to be paid right away. And I don't have the cash. I was sort of wondering if you could make me a loan."

"Five hells."

"Lucas?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't mean to push, but I need the money right now."