Amaryllis

Chapter 4

Amaryllis's hands were still trembling with reaction. She could not believe what had happened. She was a professional. True, she had only been working as a commercial prism for a few months, but she'd had years of experience in the academic world. She had a wall papered with degrees and certificates.

But she had been totally unprepared for the effects of the link with Lucas. Nothing in her experience had led her to anticipate such a shockingly intimate sensation.

The few seconds of disorientation and the accompanying sense of vulnerability that preceded the actual link had not disturbed her. She was accustomed to that feeling. Every prism experienced a moment of blind, groping awareness. It passed as soon as the psychic link between talent and prism took hold.

The focus link itself was a remarkably uncomplicated, emotionally neutral matter. It was as natural as using one's eyes or ears or taste buds. The only way it differed from any of the other human senses was that it required two minds in order to function in a reliable fashion.

But what she had experienced during those few moments when she had held the focus with Lucas could definitely not be described as uncomplicated or emotionally neutral. What she had felt was pure, scorching sexual desire.

It was impossible, Amaryllis thought as she wove a path through the crowded hall. Nothing in the exhaustive research and testing done on the nature of the connection between talents and prisms had ever indicated that a sense of sexual intimacy was involved. She herself had worked with countless talents in and out of the lab. She had never felt anything that could have been described as even mildly arousing.

It seemed to Amaryllis that she could still smell the smoke from the fires of searing desire that had been lit during the link with Lucas. Now that she was free of the psychic connection, the deep longing was receding. But she had an unpleasant suspicion that the aftereffects were going to last for several hours.

It had been a struggle to conceal her reaction from Lucas. She hoped he hadn't noticed just how stunned she had been. At least she had managed to hold the focus in a reasonably professional manner.

Amaryllis took comfort from the knowledge that she had done her job properly, even under such adverse circumstances.

She would think about the problem later, she told herself as she followed Miranda Locking from a discreet distance. There had to be a logical explanation for the phenomenon.

At the moment she had other problems. Her client wanted answers. She would try to get them for him. This kind of thing was not in her job description, but Amaryllis believed in going the extra mile, regardless of the task. She knew what it felt like to need answers.

Miranda Locking did not pause at the door of the restroom. She went straight past it, moving swiftly down the hall toward the shadowed regions of an office corridor. Her high-heeled evening shoes made a loud tapping on the hardwood floor.

Surprised, Amaryllis grabbed a fistful of fluttering scarves and quickened her pace. Miranda's blond hair gleamed briefly in the hallway light, and then she turned a corner and disappeared.

Amaryllis broke into a run. Scarves flying, she rounded the corner.

And collided with Miranda Locking and Merrick Beech.

"What the hell?" Beech, a soft-featured man with a noticeable paunch, grunted heavily. He stumbled back against the wall, lost his balance completely, and sat down hard.

Miranda shrieked as Amaryllis plowed into her. "What do you think you're doing?" She staggered. Her high heels shot out from under her and she fell to the floor. Her large purse flew from her hand.

"Oomph." Amaryllis landed on top of her in a tangle of wildly fluttering scarves. "Sorry."

"Get off me, you idiot." Miranda struggled to a sitting position. "Who are you, anyway?" Her eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion. "Did you follow me?"

"Sort of." Amaryllis scrambled to her knees.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Miranda's purse lying on the carpet. It had come open. A sheaf of papers had fallen out and scattered across the rug. Amaryllis saw the familiar green and gold Lodestar logo at the top of one of the pages. She could also see the red "Confidential" stamp.

"Damn." Merrick Beech apparently noticed the papers at the same moment that Amaryllis did. "The bid numbers." He started to heave himself to his feet.

A large foot sheathed in polished black leather came down on top of the incriminating papers.

"Five hells," Beech muttered. "Should have known you'd show up sooner or later, Trent."

Without a word, Lucas bent down to retrieve the papers that had fallen from Miranda's purse. He glanced at them briefly as he straightened.

"How much did you pay her, Beech?" he asked very softly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Beech stood and brushed meticulously at his clothing. "Miranda and I are close friends. We were just having a quiet conversation here when this odd woman interrupted us."

Amaryllis glared at him as she got to her feet.

"I know who you are. Beech, and I know what you are," Lucas said. "I'll deal with you later. Get out of my sight."

Beech bridled. "Don't give me orders. You can't prove I did anything illegal, and even if you could, you wouldn't press charges. We're all adults here. We know the facts of corporate life."

"I said, I will deal with you later. Beech."

At that moment Amaryllis could have sworn that she felt a cold wind move through the hall, but the scarves of her gown did not move. She shivered and automatically glanced around to see if there was an open window in the vicinity. She did not see one.

Beech's eyes widened and then narrowed quickly. His face turned an unpleasant shade of red. "You can't intimidate me."

Lucas just looked at him. He said nothing.

"Bastard," Beech snarled. "I'll go to the police."

Amaryllis was outraged. "Really, Mr. Beech, you have no call to act as if you are the offended party here. I think it's obvious to everyone present that you have been involved in some sort of unethical and very probably illegal activity. You should be ashamed of yourself. My personal opinion is that Mr. Trent should prosecute."

"Oh, shut up," Beech muttered. "There isn't a damn thing Trent can do to me."

"What about your own conscience, Mr. Beech?" Amaryllis demanded. "How will you justify your activities to yourself?"

Icy amusement glittered in Lucas's eyes. "Yeah, Beech. What about your conscience? Maybe it needs a little prodding."

Beech sputtered in helpless fury. "Don't threaten me."

"I'm not threatening you. I'm going to give you some advice. It's time for a lateral career move. Beech. Get out of New Seattle and stay out."

"You can't do this to me." Beech started to edge his way along the corridor wall. "You know you can't."

Lucas gazed at him thoughtfully. Another whisper of cold wind wafted through the hall. Amaryllis's dress did not flutter, but she realized she had goose bumps on her arms.

Beech's mouth worked. Then, with an inarticulate exclamation, he turned and fled.

Amaryllis exhaled deeply, releasing the breath she had not been aware of holding.

Miranda lifted her chin and stared at Lucas with seething, defiant eyes. "He didn't have to pay for the information, Lucas. I gave it to him for free."

Lucas studied her with an unreadable expression. "Mind telling me why?"

"You fool. You really don't know, do you? In three long years, you've never once figured it out."

"Enlighten me."

Miranda raised her head with fierce pride. "I did it to avenge Jackson."

"Jackson?" Lucas stared at her.

"He was your partner and you killed him, you murdering bastard. I knew I'd never be able to prove it, so I found another way to get revenge."

"What are you talking about?"

Miranda shoved a wing of pale hair back out of her eyes. Tears shimmered on her cheeks. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. You wanted to get rid of Jackson because you had no further use for him."

"Miranda--" Lucas broke off abruptly, as if he had no more words.

"You used him to set up your business contacts here in the city because his family had the connections you needed. Then you got rid of him."

Shocked, Amaryllis took a step toward Miranda, her hand outstretched. "That's not true. It can't be true."

"What would you know about it?" Miranda pulled quickly back out of Amaryllis's reach. "You weren't there. Lucas set him up to be killed by those pirates. I know he did. It's the only explanation. There's no other reason why it happened the way it did. No reason why Jackson would have been at that cabin with her that day."

"Miss Locking, listen to me." Amaryllis took another step closer.

"Don't come near me," Miranda hissed. "Lucas knew what would happen when he sent Jackson to that abandoned base camp. He sent Jackson into the jungle to die." She spun around and ran off down the hall. The echo of her footsteps rang in the corridor for a long time.

"Three years." Lucas eased the Icer to a stop in front of Amaryllis's small house. "She blamed me for Jackson's death for three years. Plotted against me all that time. And I never knew what was going on."

Amaryllis gave a small start at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Lucas had spoken since the scene with Miranda and Beech in the museum corridor. It was not just the surprise of hearing the heavy silence broken at last that made her flinch. It was the disbelief and pain embedded in the words.

She glanced uneasily at Lucas's grim profile. He sat one big hand resting on the steering bar, and gazed out into the night. The light from Chelan and Yakima, St. Helens's two moons, etched his face in cold silver and bleak shadows.

"I'm sorry." Amaryllis decided that this was not the time to mention that she would put his bill in the mail first thing in the morning.

"I trusted her."

Amaryllis did not know what to say to that. "Don't blame yourself. It's common knowledge that high-class talents are not usually very intuitive."

"I wanted to do something for her." Lucas clenched the steering bar so tightly that the moonlight gleamed white on his knuckles. "I knew that Rye's death had hit her hard. The company had an obligation to take care of her. She had been engaged to Jackson. They were due to be married in the spring of that year. Lodestar looks after its own."

"I understand. These things are difficult." Amaryllis groped for the door handle.

"She was smart and well educated." Lucas sounded as if he was unaware that he had a listener in the car with him. "Good family background. I had no reason not to trust her."

"Of course, you didn't. How could you have known?"

"I thought we had both gone through all five hells together. That we shared some kind of bond because of what had happened. I never told her that Rye had betrayed us both."

Amaryllis thought she had heard incorrectly. "Your partner betrayed you?"

"There was no point telling Miranda the whole damn story. She was already hurting. I tried to bury the truth as deep as I could for everyone's sake."

It was time to end the evening, Amaryllis thought. The assignment was finished. If she had any sense, she would get out of the car and bid Lucas good night. He had his answers. As Clementine had said, it was up to the client to deal with the results of a focus session.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of coff-tea?" she heard herself ask.

He turned his head to look at her. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. She knew that he was somewhere else, sunk deep in his memories.

"Coff-tea?" Lucas repeated blankly.

Amaryllis panicked. Stupid, she thought. Very stupid. Lucas was hurting, but there was nothing she could do for him. "Never mind." She gave him a quick smile and shoved open the car door. "It's late. I'll be in my office at nine if you have any further questions concerning the results of your security problem. But I think it's been wrapped up. It was obviously a personal situation."

"Yeah." He watched her face in the moonlight. "Personal."

"The case was unpleasant for all concerned, but at least it was relatively straightforward." Amaryllis summoned up what she hoped was a breezy smile. "No psychic vampire hypno-talents involved."

"No psychic vampires."

Amaryllis scrambled out of the Icer and bent down to look at him. "Good night, Mr. Trent."

"I'll come in for coff-tea."

"Uh, well--"

He opened the door on the driver's side and climbed out of the car. Amaryllis watched him walk around the front of the sleek vehicle. She realized her mouth was still open.

Lucas went past her up the path to the front door.

"Wait a second." Amaryllis hurried after him.

He came to a halt on the top step and waited patiently for her to unlock the door.

Unable to think of anything more clever to do, Amaryllis deactivated the jelly-ice lock. The door opened.

With the air of a man walking in his sleep, Lucas moved into the darkened hall.

"This way," Amaryllis said very brightly. What was she doing, she berated herself. This was not a good idea. Definitely bad synergy, as Byron would say.

She dropped her purse on a small table and led the way into the kitchen. The Iceman was here in her house. Again. For the second time. Amaryllis felt an oppressive sense of impending danger mingled with great excitement. Her breathing quickened.

She must stay calm and in control. She was a professional.

She walked into the kitchen, aware of Lucas following close behind her. The orderly pattern of the pristine black-and-white tiles that marched across the floor and up the walls calmed her immediately.

She took a deep breath. Here, amid the neat, the functional, and the familiar, she regained her sense of self-possession.

Lucas glanced curiously around the black-and-white kitchen as he shrugged out of his jacket. "This house fits you, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Very neat. Very clean. A certain air of the fastidious, which I suppose suits a full-spectrum prism. A place for everything and everything in its place."

She was too neat for him. That was a first. "A little bit of clutter goes a long way in a small house like this."

"Personally, I don't worry a whole lot about clutter." Lucas tossed the jacket carelessly across a nearby stool. He sat down at the white tiled counter. "Growing up on the edge of a jungle teaches you to tolerate a low standard of housekeeping. You can never get rid of all the bugs, and there's always something green growing on the shower wall."

"I see." They really were complete opposites, Amaryllis thought. Amazing. Just as all the synpsychs who studied powerful prisms and talents claimed.

"Does this happen a lot?" Lucas watched her with faintly narrowed eyes.

"What do you mean?" Amaryllis busied herself with her new coff-tea machine. She was very proud of the gloaming black appliance, which was trimmed with a great many impressive red buttons. It had been one of the first purchases she had made after taking the high-paying job at Psynergy, Inc.

"Do you invite all the losers in for coff-tea and pity?"

She looked up from the act of spooning the fragrant ground coff-tea into the machine. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Trent."

His expression darkened. "I don't need your damned sympathy, you know."

"Okay. Right. No problem. You won't get any sympathy out of me. Still want the coff-tea?"

He scowled. "Yeah."

"How do you want it?"

"Make it a triple. Straight up. No cream, no sugar, no spice."

"Triple strength?" Amaryllis raised her brows. "You don't have to prove anything to me. I know you're the big, tough Iceman."

He had the grace to flush. "I learned to drink my coff-tea in the Western Islands. We like it on the strong side."

"You got it. Strong it shall be." Amaryllis adjusted the buttons on the machine. The comforting aroma of the brewing coff-tea filled the cozy room.

"I don't have this kind of problem a lot, you know," Lucas said. "I'm usually careful. But when I screw up, I generally do a hell of a job of it."

"Are we talking about coff-tea or personal relationships?"

"I'm careful who I trust."

Amaryllis nodded. "Personal relationships. Got it. Who says a full-spectrum prism can't carry on a meaningful conversation with a high-class talent? You mustn't blame yourself, Lucas. We all make occasional mistakes when it comes to trusting the right people."

"All these years Miranda has believed that I deliberately set Jackson up to be killed because I wanted to get rid of him." Lucas shook his head. "I knew the Ryes held me responsible in a way for Jackson's death, but even they never accused me of arranging for him to be murdered."

Amaryllis removed the pot of freshly made coff-tea and poured the golden brown brew into two mugs. "The news accounts called Jackson Rye a hero. They said he was killed at the beginning of the invasion."

"I was away on one of the neighboring islands when it happened. Jackson told people at company headquarters in Port LeConner that he wanted to take a break. He said he was going up into the mountains with a friend."

Amaryllis put a mug on the counter in front of him. "What about the pirates?"

"No one knew the bastards were on the island at that point. Jackson and--" Lucas hesitated a beat, as if searching for the right word. "Jackson and his companion went to an abandoned company camp. They planned to stay in one of the old cabins and do some fishing. And a few other things."

"What happened?"

"When I got back to headquarters, I realized something was wrong. I went up to the old mountain camp to look for Jackson and his, ah, friend. I found the bodies." Lucas pulled the mug closer and gazed into the murky depths of the coff-tea. "At first it appeared that the pirates had happened onto the camp by chance, discovered Jackson and his companion, and killed both of them so that they couldn't give a warning."

Amaryllis shuddered. "How ghastly."

"Later I learned that the situation was somewhat different."

"What happened?"

Lucas looked up, his eyes bleak. "The leader of the raiders was reasonably well organized. When it was all over, I searched his ship's cabin. He had extensive files. All sorts of records, notes, and plans. I discovered that it wasn't just bad luck that Jackson had gone to that old camp on that particular day. He was in league with the pirates."

Amaryllis nearly spilled her coff-tea. She stared at Lucas from the other side of the counter. "He was working with them?"

Lucas wrapped both hands around his mug. "Anyone who wants to take control of the Western Islands has to deal with Lodestar Exploration."

"Yes, of course." Amaryllis frowned. "It's no secret that Lodestar virtually runs the Western Islands."

"The company doesn't have much choice. The amenities of civilization are a little short out there. The only reason anyone even lives in the islands is because of the jelly-ice."

"I know."

"Lodestar is the chief employer in the islands. The company provides all the basic services and ensures reliable supply lines. Taking control of Lodestar means taking control of the islands and vice versa." Lucas paused. "I didn't want to get rid of Jackson Rye. He wanted to get rid of me. He knew he needed help, at least at the beginning, because my employees, on the whole, are loyal. And I have a lot of friends out there. He required manpower so he did a deal with the pirates."

Amaryllis hesitated. "He wanted sole control of Lodestar?"

"The idea was that when the gang took control of the islands, I would be among the victims. I was supposed to be the dead hero. With me out of the picture, Jackson would take control. He planned to run Lodestar single-handedly."

"But what about his deal with the raiders?"

"You'd have to have known Jackson to understand. He expected to win at everything. He was from a world in which Ryes always came out on top. He thought he could handle the pirates after he was in charge of Lodestar."

"My God."

Lucas met her eyes. "Truth is, it wasn't a bad plan. He probably could have gotten rid of his so-called allies once he was in control. The pirates were loosely organized and undisciplined. They had few supplies. They couldn't have lasted long without Lodestar assistance."

"So Jackson Rye planned for the pirates to do his dirty work for him. Then he intended to turn on them once you were safely out of the picture."

"That pretty well sums it up," Lucas said wearily. "But the leader of the raiders had already figured out that Jackson was potentially dangerous. He never had any intention of allowing Rye to remain alive. He just used Jackson and then killed him."

"The story was in the papers for weeks," Amaryllis said slowly. "But I never heard that your partner had betrayed the company and all those people."

"You didn't hear about it because I kept it out of the news reports." Lucas's smile was cold. "Figured it wouldn't do the company image any good."

Amaryllis watched him. "Is that the real reason you hushed up the facts?"

"I'm a businessman at heart. I always do what's best for the bottom line."

"Mr. Expediency, is that it?" Amaryllis took a sip of coff- tea. "Know what I think? I think that there were a few other reasons why you decided to bury the truth."

"What other reasons?"

"The Ryes and Miranda Locking. You didn't want any of them to learn the awful truth about Jackson, did you? You tried to protect them all."

Lucas's expression was unreadable. "Like I said, it wouldn't have been good for the company image."

"I think it was very noble of you to protect his name and reputation," Amaryllis said.

He gave her a derisive smile. "If you really believe that, you're not nearly as smart as full-spectrum prisms are supposed to be. What I did wasn't noble. It was pragmatic."

"No." She shook her head. "Definitely noble. But I must admit. I'm amazed you were so successful at concealing the facts."

"As president and sole surviving owner of the company, I was in charge. I also had a couple of friends who helped me handle the situation. The reporters got the news I wanted them to get."

"I see."

Lucas swallowed the last of the coff-tea. "And if you still believe that I kept things quiet because I was so damn noble, there's one other fact you should consider."

"What's that?"

"I mentioned that Jackson Rye took a companion with him the day he rendezvoused with the pirates."

"Yes. You said he was killed, too."

"That companion wasn't a man. It was my wife."

Amaryllis's eyes misted. "I'm so sorry, Lucas. I recall reading that your wife also died during the initial raid. How terrible that she happened to be with Jackson that day at the camp."

Lucas's mouth curved in a bleak smile. "Are you always this naive or do you have to practice?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Dora and Jackson were having an affair. Now do you understand? She didn't just happen to be with him that day. They went to the camp because she was sleeping with him, because they often disappeared together, and because she knew all about Rye's deal with the pirates."

This time coff-tea did splash over the edge of Amaryllis's mug. She ignored it. Unable to think of anything to say, she reached out to touch Lucas's hand with what was meant to be a fleeting gesture of silent sympathy.

Lucas caught her fingers before she could withdraw. He squeezed gently, just enough to convey a warning. "I don't know why I told you the story. I've never told anyone else. I expect you to keep it confidential."

"Of course."

"Absolutely confidential," he emphasized. "I don't even want your boss to know. Understood?"

"Yes." Amaryllis could have sworn that she felt another whisper of the cold wind she had sensed earlier in the museum corridor. "Understood. You have my word on it."

"The word of a professional prism." Lucas turned her hand over, exposing the inside of her wrist. He studied the veins that ran just beneath the skin as if they were lines on a map that led to some unknown destination. "If you tell anyone else what I told you tonight, I can make life difficult for you."

Amaryllis looked into his eyes. In that moment she knew that the chill that filled the kitchen emanated from him. A dark fog seemed to be gathering beneath her kitchen cupboards. She was afraid to turn her head and look.

Lucas was doing this, she thought. She did not know how, but she knew that he was responsible. Anger blossomed inside her.

"Don't you dare threaten me, Lucas Trent. I gave you my word of honor."

"Sorry." Lucas released her hand abruptly. "I'm in a lousy mood, and you're catching the brunt of it. That's not right. None of this is your fault."

"No, it isn't." Surreptitiously, she waggled her fingers to make sure they all still functioned properly. The sensation of a cold wind blowing disappeared. She glanced at her kitchen cupboards and saw nothing but clean black-and-white tiles. "And I don't appreciate being intimidated."

"Something tells me there's not much that could do that."

And I'll bet it would take a heck of a lot to intimidate you, too, she thought. "Look, don't be too hard on yourself just because you put your trust in the wrong people. It happens to everyone. Even prisms make mistakes like that."

"Even prisms, hub?" Amusement flickered in his gaze. "That certainly makes me feel a lot better. You ever make that kind of mistake?"

She reflected fleetingly on her relationship with Gifford Osterley. "Even me. Being a prism doesn't guarantee perfect intuition, you know."

"Amazing. I would never have guessed." Lucas's lashes lowered slightly, just enough to veil his eyes. "Who was he?"

Amaryllis was so irritated by his undisguised condescension that she considered showing him the door right then and there. But she felt a niggling sense of guilt at the thought of throwing him out. He had, after all, just spilled his guts to her. That couldn't have been easy or simple for a man like him. He obviously regretted the indiscretion already.

It occurred to her that telling Lucas one of her own small secrets might make him feel that the scales had been balanced. Perhaps that would put him in a better mood when he received the bill in a few days. One of Clementine's many axioms rang in Amaryllis's head: A happy client is a repeat client.

"His name was Gifford Osterley," Amaryllis said quietly. "We worked together at the university until I left six months ago. He's a full professor. Next in line to become head of the Department of Focus Studies."

"Prism, I take it?"

"Oh, yes. Very strong. Practically a full spectrum."

"Not quite as strong as you, then?"

A trickle of unease went through Amaryllis. "I am a full spectrum, after all."

"How could I forget?"

She cleared her throat. "At any rate, Gifford and I were involved, if you know what I mean."

"I think I can figure it out."

She frowned. "It was serious. We talked about marriage."

"A nonagency marriage?" Lucas gave her mockingly scandalized look. "You? I don't believe it."

"Don't be ridiculous." Amaryllis set her teeth. This was what came of trying to be sympathetic and kind to Lucas Trent. He had no ability to appreciate her generosity of spirit. "We would have registered with an agency when the time came, but we both expected that the counselors would have declared us a good match."

"Do I hear a touch of prism arrogance here?"

"I suppose you could say we were a little arrogant," Amaryllis admitted grudgingly. "We are both very highly trained prisms, you know. We thought we knew what we were doing."

"Yeah, I saw all your fancy degrees."

"Gifford has even more than I do."

"Hooray for him. So what happened with you and Osterley?"

"I discovered that Gifford had a relationship with an attractive talent who worked as his research assistant."

"He was sleeping with her?"

Amaryllis looked down at her unfinished coff-tea. "Yes."

"How did you find out?"

"The hard way." Amaryllis swallowed. If there had been a mirror in the kitchen, she knew she would have seen her face go from pink to red. "I blundered into a focus session in one of the labs and discovered Gifford and his research assistant together."

"Focusing on something other than academically important psychic matters, I take it?"

Anger, pain, and embarrassment fused within Amaryllis. The image still burned in her mind whenever she recalled that traumatic afternoon. "They were having sex on Gifford's desk, if you must know."

Lucas's eyes glinted. "His desk, hub?"

"Yes." Amaryllis raised her chin, the better to look down her nose at him. "I would have thought it would have been extremely uncomfortable, but they appeared to enjoy it."

"I take it you've never done it on a desk?"

The last remnants of Amaryllis's charitable inclinations dissolved. "I'm glad you find it amusing. I certainly didn't."

Lucas's expression relaxed. "I'll give you the same advice you just gave me. Don't beat yourself up about it. It wasn't your fault that you fell for the wrong guy."

"I felt like such a fool," she whispered.

"Well, at least you weren't downright stupid about it." Lucas paused. "Unlike me, you didn't think you were so smart you could just skip a marriage agency altogether."

Amaryllis stared at him. "You mean you didn't use an agency when you got married the first time?"

"Hell, no." His mouth curved faintly. "I was an islander. I knew how to take care of myself. I'd been running a successful company since I was twenty-four. I could find jelly-ice in the heart of the jungle. I was rich and getting richer. I figured I could choose my own wife without any help from the experts."

"What happened?"

Lucas looked away for a brief moment. When his eyes met hers again they were unreadable. "The same thing the experts say usually happens when people choose their own spouses. I screwed up big time."

"That is so sad. Were you very much in love?"

"Sure." Lucas gave her a laconic look. "People who run off to get married always think they're in love, don't they? Why else would they run off?"

"I don't know." Amaryllis looked down at her hands. "My parents ran off together shortly after I was born. But they didn't get married. They couldn't. My father already had a wife."

Understanding lit Lucas's eyes. "I see."

"They were both killed in a storm on the way to the Western Islands. I was with my aunt at the time. Everyone thinks my parents intended to start over under a new name and send for me when they found work."

"I'm sorry." Lucas hesitated. "So you were left... alone?"

She smiled wanly. "You may as well use the right word. I was illegitimate. One of the things that attracted me to Gifford was that he didn't seem to care about the fact that I was a bastard. Some people do, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

"But to answer your question, no, I wasn't alone. My mother's people took me in."

"Your aunt and uncle?"

"Yes. And the rest of the Larks, too. They were all kind and loving. I couldn't have asked for a better family."

"What about your father's people?"

Amaryllis poured herself another cup of coff-tea. "They prefer to pretend that I don't exist."

"Figures."

A short silence descended. It lasted just long enough for Amaryllis to again regret having invited Lucas in for coff-tea. What on St. Helens had gotten into her, she wondered. She had just told a virtual stranger some of her most deeply held secrets. Not all of them, but more than enough. She had turned into a blathering idiot. And all because she'd felt sorry for a client.

It was time she went back to behaving in a more professional manner.

She glanced pointedly at the clock. "It's getting late."

"So it is." Lucas got to his feet with a surprising show of reluctance. "I'll be on my way. Thanks for the coff-tea."

"You're welcome."

He smiled wryly. "And the sympathy."

Amaryllis softened. "I know it must have been a difficult evening for you."

"I've had worse." He scooped his jacket off the stool and started for the door.

Amaryllis trailed after him. "Lucas, there's something I wanted to ask you."

He turned around with unexpected swiftness. "Yeah?"

"That other talent you detected tonight," she began slowly.

Something that could have been disappointment flashed in his eyes. The next instant it was gone. "What about him?"

"When I sensed him through you, I realized that he was very powerful. But I couldn't identify the type of talent he was focusing. I've never come in contact with any psychic energy of that nature. It was very subtle but very strong."

"He was good," Lucas agreed without much interest.

"Well, you're the great detector," she challenged. "Could you tell what sort of psychic power the person was focusing?"

Lucas looked amused. "You didn't realize who the talent was?"

"No."

"I can't be absolutely certain, but given the situation, I'd stake next year's profits that it was Madison Sheffield."

"Sheffield." Amaryllis was astounded. "Senator Sheffield?"

"The next governor of our fair city-state, or so everyone claims. I guess you could say he was working the room."

"Are you serious?"

Lucas eyed her thoughtfully. "You really didn't understand what was going on, did you?"

"No, I did not. When I work with a talent, I can sense what he or she senses. You have the ability to detect other talents, so naturally I picked up the other talent in the room at the same time you did. As I told you, I also picked up the echoes of the other prism."

"You said the prism's style of working felt familiar."

"It was. I would swear that whoever it was trained at the same place I did, the Department of Focus Studies at the university. I could feel Professor Landreth's influence."

"Who is Landreth?"

"He was the head of the department for years."

"The name sounds familiar."

"Probably because of the newspaper articles that were written about him after he was killed in a hiking accident last month. It was a terrible tragedy."

Lucas nodded. "I remember something about it now."

"He was a brilliant man." Amaryllis spoke forcefully because Lucas did not seem overly impressed with just who and what Professor Jonathan Landreth had been. "He contributed enormously to our understanding of the focus link and how it works. More importantly, he wrote the Code of Focus Ethics. His death was a great loss to the profession and to research."

"Uh huh."

"It was a great personal loss for me, as well." Amaryllis's teeth clamped together again. "He was my mentor. I admired him enormously. I miss him."

"I'm sorry." Lucas looked as if he didn't know what else to say. "Well, I should be on my way."

"Wait, you didn't tell me what sort of talent Senator Sheffield was focusing."

"From what little I got before he burned out his prism. I'd say that he was generating pure bat-snake oil and charm. In other words, charisma."

"Charisma?" Amaryllis repeated, uncomprehending.

"It's a politician's stock-in-trade."

"But charisma is not a psychic power."

"What would you call it?"

"I don't know." Amaryllis waved one hand in a small, vague gesture. "A personality trait or something, I suppose. But not a psychic talent."

"Power is power." A smile came and went at the edge of Lucas's mouth. "Regardless of whether or not it's been documented and studied by the experts."

Amaryllis pursed her lips. "I'm not sure about this. I don't think that it would be ethical to focus charisma, assuming it's a form of psychic energy. Especially if the talent was a politician."

"Don't worry about it. It's not your problem. So what if the guy was focusing with an intent to convince people to vote for him and to donate to his campaign fund? That's what politics is all about."

Amaryllis was not mollified. "But if charisma can be focused for those purposes, it would be an act of deliberate misrepresentation or fraud or something."

Lucas looked amused. "Welcome to the real world, lady."

She scowled. "Doesn't it bother you that a very high-class talent in Sheffield's position is using his abilities to con people?"

"He's a politician, Amaryllis."

"But he was using an academically trained prism to focus."

"So what? I used one tonight, too."

"But Sheffield's prism should know better than to become involved in an unethical use of talent. Professor Landreth drilled the Code of Focus Ethics into all his students."

"No kidding."

"There are standards in my profession," Amaryllis snapped. "And the prism who was working with Sheffield tonight may have violated them."

Lucas propped one shoulder against the wall and studied her with an expression of reluctant fascination. "I have some advice for you, Amaryllis. Nobody likes a self-appointed conscience."

"Spoken like a talent with a classic case of prism envy." Amaryllis reached past him to yank open the door. "Good night, Mr. Trent. Rest assured, your bill will be in the mail first thing in the morning."

Lucas didn't move and the door stayed closed. "You asked me a professional question. Mind if I ask you one?"

Amaryllis watched him with deep suspicion. "What is it?"

"Was it good for you, too?"

"What?" she whispered.

He appeared to be satisfied with her stunned expression. "So, it wasn't all happening on my end. I wondered about that. I told you, I haven't had a lot of experience with the focus link, and I didn't know if getting sexually aroused was a common side effect or if it was relatively rare."

Amaryllis was nearly speechless. She knew she was blushing from the top of her head straight down to the soles of her feet. "I assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Just tell me how long I can expect the effects to last."

"Effects?" she repeated weakly.

"Yeah. Effects. How long will this overpowering urge to take you to bed last?"

"Mr. Trent, please."

"Will it disappear by morning? It's kind of distracting."

Amaryllis swallowed and then took refuge once more beneath the mantle of professionalism. "I don't know how long the feeling lasts. I have never heard of any link producing sensations of the sort you're complaining about. Furthermore--"

"I'm not exactly complaining."

"Well, that's what it sounds like to me."

"Maybe kissing you would work off a few of the side effects." Lucas tossed aside his jacket and reached for her.

"Mr. Trent. You're a client."

"Yeah, I know." He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her against his chest. "Don't worry, I always pay my bills."

"That's not the point."

Amaryllis flattened her palms against his broad shoulders. She barely had time to notice that his gloaming gray eyes were as impenetrable as the dark fog that she had imagined coalescing beneath her kitchen cabinets.

His mouth came down on hers.