Bridal Jitters

Chapter 1

Harmony: Cadence City, two hundred years after the closing of the Curtain

"So, is it true what they say about ghost-hunters?" Adeline Delmore leaned close and lowered her voice as she helped herself to another orange-frosted cookie. "Are they really amazing in bed after they've zapped a ghost? I've heard the sex is unbelievable right after a burn."

The question caught Virginia Burch just as she took a sip of the sparkling wine punch. She coughed and sputtered. Heat infused her cheeks. Unfortunately, she reflected glumly, bright pink was not her best color, especially on her face. She glanced wildly around to make sure no one else had overheard Adeline's outrageous question.

The offices of Gage & Burch were crowded with friends and colleagues, some of whom she could not recognize because, even though they were here to celebrate her engagement, most wore masks and costumes. It was Halloween week, after all; otherwise known here in Cadence as party-till-you-drop week. She wondered if the fact that her friends had chosen to throw a surprise engagement party with a Halloween theme was a bad omen. Not that she needed any more to warn her that her forthcoming marriage was probably a huge mistake.

Luckily someone had cranked up the volume of the music. The throbbing beat of a rez-rock song created a blanket of white noise that effectively shrouded conversations. As far as she could tell, no one had overheard Adeline's question about the sexual habits of ghost-hunters.

"Uh," Virginia said. To buy herself some time, she groped for a napkin decorated with a cartoon picture of a woman in a pointy black hat and a cape, riding a broomstick. "Uh, well—"

"I've heard the stories," Adeline continued, eyes gleaming. "And if you'll recall, I dated that good-looking hunter for a while. The one with the blue eyes and the curly black hair. I can't remember his name."

"Brett." It was hard to keep up with Adeline's ever-changing list of boyfriends, Virginia thought. But Brett had been memorable mostly because he had been a swaggering braggart. Of course, a lot of ghost-hunters were swaggering braggarts.

But not Sam. Whatever else he was, he was not a typical hunter.

She glanced across the room to where her new combination fiance/business partner stood talking with one of the guests. Sam Gage didn't have to do any bragging, she thought wistfully. You knew just by looking at him that he could take care of himself and any ghost that happened along.

She was pretty sure he'd be terrific in bed, too, but she was beginning to think she might never find out the truth of that for herself.

"Oh, yeah, right," Adeline said. "Brett. That was his name. At any rate, he made some very interesting claims and promises. Ghost-hunters are not exactly shy when it comes to telling you about their sexual prowess. But our relationship didn't last long enough for me to run an experiment. Anyhow, I'm curious. I realize it's none of my business—"

"No, it's not."

"But I am your very best friend in the entire world," Adeline reminded her. "If you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

Virginia cleared her throat and decided to be honest. "Sorry, I'm not in a position to answer your question."

Adeline looked dumbfounded. "You're not? But you're going to marry Sam Gage. He's a hunter. This is your engagement party."

"Oddly enough, it looks more like a Halloween party to me."

"Okay, okay, so we decided to give it a theme. All the best parties have themes. I read it in last month's issue of Harmonic Home & Garden."

"I can't believe Harmonic Home & Garden told you that Halloween is considered an appropriate theme for an engagement party."

"Personally, I thought it was kind of original." Adeline looked across the crowded room to where Sam stood. A speculative light glittered in her deceptively innocent eyes. "Are you telling me that you two haven't done it yet? How weird."

"Adeline, I explained that Sam and I intend to apply for a two-year marriage-of-convenience license, not a covenant license."

"So what? That doesn't mean you aren't going to sleep together, does it? ' Adeline broke off abruptly, eyes widening. "Does it?"

"This is business." Virginia swallowed. "I told you that."

Adeline looked skeptical. "One hundred percent business?"

"Yes."

"No fooling around at all?"

Virginia fought to quell the panic that had been nibbling at her for the past few days. "Like I said, it's a business arrangement."

Adeline groaned. "I don't believe it. You and Sam are a perfect couple."

Virginia paused, her plastic cup of punch halfway to her mouth. "What ever gave you that idea?"

"Are you kidding? You and Sam were made for each other. You've got so much in common."

"Such as?"

Adeline's brow climbed. "Well, for openers, you're both repressed, obsessive workaholics. Neither one of you seems to know how to have fun."

"Thanks a lot."

Adeline chuckled. "Should have seen the looks on your faces when you walked into the office this evening."

"We weren't expecting a party, Adeline."

"Yeah, I know." Adeline smiled smugly. "It was a surprise party. And it worked, didn't it?"

Virginia thought about the way her stomach had clenched when she had opened the door a short time earlier and been greeted with shrieks of "Surprise.

"It worked," she mumbled into her punch. "I was definitely surprised."

Adeline gave her an admonishing frown. "A lot of people went to a lot of effort to pull this off. Do me a favor: Try to look like you're having a good time, okay? Sam is taking it in stride."

Sam could take anything in stride, Virginia thought morosely, even an unanticipated engagement party. She caught a glimpse of him through the forest of black and orange balloons that dangled from the ceiling. He was still talking to the earnest-looking man in glasses.

Even surrounded by bobbing cardboard goblins, plastic jack-o'-lanterns and several yards of black and orange crepe paper, he looked, as he invariably did, completely at ease, totally in control.

He was a powerful dissonance-energy para-resonator—a ghost-hunter—but, thankfully, he did not go in for the longhaired, supermacho, khaki-and-leather look favored by most hunters. Tonight he was dressed in a black T-shirt, black trousers, and a tan jacket that fit well across his broad shoulders. He wore his resonating amber in a simple, gold ring rather than set in a massive belt buckle or a flashy pendant.

There was a relaxed air about him. The graceful languor of a natural-born predator at ease between kills emanated from him in psychic waves. Virginia could feel the disturbing energy all the way across the room. No one else seemed to be particularly aware of that aura—both dangerous and deeply sensual—that enveloped him, but it stirred all the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck.

Another twinge of panic zapped through her, unsettling both her physical and paranormal senses. The combined assault on her awareness made her shiver. The anxiety attacks were getting worse, she thought. Every time she contemplated marriage to Sam, she felt the small, high-rez shocks of trepidation.

What had she done?

She had agreed to marry Sam Gage; that was what she had done. Granted, it was only a two-year marriage-of-convenience. Nevertheless, she was going to be legally tied to him for two full years.

What had she done?

She forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths. When that did not block the tide of uneasiness that was doing such strange things to her insides, she tried another sip of the wine punch.

Just a marriage-of-convenience. They were common enough. It would end in two years unless she and Sam elected to renew it for another two-year period. There would be no reason to do that, she assured herself; no excuse to convert the MC into a more formal and far more binding covenant marriage.

Adeline was right; she had to project a little more good-natured enthusiasm here, Virginia told herself. She had agreed to the MC, after all. It was a terrific business move. And she certainly could not blame her friends for throwing a party. They meant well. And she was genuinely fond of most of them.

She was surrounded with a representative sprinkling of the professional and not-so-professional types involved in the many legitimate and not-so-legitimate businesses that had grown up around the excavation of the Dead City of Old Cadence. There were a number of academics from the university who were in the process of building distinguished careers studying the alien ruins. There were also several contract and freelance para-archaeologists, such as herself, and a few of Sam's ghost-hunter buddies who provided security to the excavation teams. In addition, there was a colorful assortment of gallery owners, hustlers, and ruin rats who worked the fringes of the trade in alien artifacts.

It was a mixed lot, to say the least, but they were all bound by their mutual interest in making their livings from the exploration and excavation of the ruins left by the long-vanished Harmonics.

It should have been a cheerful occasion, but she could feel the panic nibbling at her stomach.

"Sorry, Adeline. I guess I'm not in a party mood tonight."

"Fake it," Adeline said with a stern look.

Virginia gave her a reluctant smile. "Yes, ma'am."

"That's better." Adeline searched her face more closely. "What's the matter? I thought you were excited about this arrangement. Why the cold feet?"

"I'm not getting cold feet."

"Yes, you are. This is your old pal, Adeline, remember? I know you better than anyone else. You've been getting increasingly short-tempered and high-strung for the past two weeks."

Virginia glared at her and picked up the punch ladle. "I've been a little busy lately, okay? I just finished the Henderson job yesterday, and Sam and I signed our first joint client this morning. We start work on the project tomorrow. On top of everything else my family is hassling me about this MC, even though I've explained a hundred times that it's just a business deal."

"Your family is still convinced that Sam is just taking advantage of you?

"That's their official position." Virginia ladled more punch into her cup. "But the truth is, they want me to settle down in a covenant marriage with Duncan."

Adeline shrugged. "Can't blame them. Duncan is a great catch. Good family, good connections. Nice guy."

"Duncan and I are friends, but it will never amount to more than that." Virginia dropped the ladle back into the bowl and took a hefty swallow of the punch. "Duncan and I both know it, even if our families don't."

"You mean you don't love him, and he doesn't love you."

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."

Adeline raised her brows. "So, instead of a nice, safe marriage to good ol' Duncan, you're going to take a flyer on a two-year MC with a man you hardly know and who is a ghost-hunter to boot. Gee, can't imagine why the family is upset about that decision. Nope. Can't think of a single reason why your relatives would have a problem with your plans."

Virginia gave her a speaking glance. "It's business."

Adeline assumed an infuriating all-knowing expression. "Know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you've got a radical case of nerves. Bridal jitters, as my aunt Sally would say."

"That's ridiculous. Why would I be nervous?"

"Excellent question."

"This is just a business deal." Virginia suspected that she was beginning to sound desperate. She tried to temper her tone. She wanted to sound calm and cool. As calm and cool as Sam had sounded when he had presented her with the proposition three weeks ago.

"This section of the Old Quarter is slated for gentrification within the next couple of years," he had explained. "Investors and developers are already starting to nose around. This house is going to be worth a fortune soon. But in the meantime, I've got to find a way to hang on to it."

She gazed at her new landlord in genuine alarm. She had rented her office and her upstairs apartment from him less than two months ago. She had found the old house at the end of a long, fruitless day spent tracking down the addresses of virtually every affordable rental in the Old Quarter of Cadence City. It had not been an advertised rental, but she had decided to make inquiries after noting the small sign on the door, which read Dead City Security, Sam Gage, Prop.

Her intent had been to ask the unknown Mr. Gage, who was clearly a small businessperson like herself, if he was aware of any suitable space in the neighborhood. The choicest rentals, she had learned, were frequently obtained by word of mouth rather than through the want ads.

Her initial impression of Sam Gage, the owner and sole employee of Dead City Security, was that he was not what one expected in a ghost-hunter who had set up shop as a security consultant. She had found him in his office, ankles propped on his desk, deep into the current issue of the Journal of Para-Archaeology. Heavy reading for a ghost-hunter, she thought. Most of the ones she knew preferred Sex-Starved Psychic Playmates and Naked Amazon Maidens of the Alien Catacombs.

Before the end of the conversation, Gage had offered her an office on the first floor and an apartment on the second. She had fallen in love with both spaces the moment she had seen them. She was beginning to think that she had fallen in love with her new landlord at approximately the same time, but that was another issue altogether, one she did not want to confront.

"Hang on to it?" she repeated warily. "Is there a problem?"

"Just the usual. Taxes, upkeep, repairs." He spread the fingers of his amber-ringed hand in a gesture that encompassed all the trials and tribulations of home ownership. "This house was built right after the Era of Discord. That makes it over a hundred and fifty years old. It was built to last, so it's sound, but it needs a lot of work."

"I see." She looked around at the elegant molding, gleaming wooden floors, and uniquely framed windows.

The place was perfect for her one-person consulting business. The location, only two short blocks from the great, green quartz wall that surrounded the Dead City, was ideal. Her work required frequent trips both above ground and deep into the catacombs of the ancient alien ruins. From here, she could walk to her job site, which meant she would not have the expense of a car.

She cleared her throat uneasily. "Are you thinking of raising the rent already? Because, if so, I'd like to remind you that I do have a one-year lease."

He braced his hands on the top of her desk and leaned slightly forward. His amber-colored eyes were steady and intent. "No, I'm not going to raise your rent. I've got a proposition for you. If things work out the way I think they will, we'll both make a killing."

His idea had been a straightforward business arrangement. A marriage-of-convenience and a merger of her consulting business with his Dead City Security. He'd painted a dazzling picture. Operating as a single entity, Gage & Burch Consulting, they would double their resources overnight. Together, they would be able to compete for larger, more lucrative clients. The increased revenue would go into maintenance. The MC would ensure that they paid lower taxes. When the house was sold to developers in two years, they would share equally in the profits. A win-win situation.

All she had to do was find a way to be as cold-blooded about the arrangement as Sam. Unfortunately, the closer they drew to the date of the wedding, the less certain she was that such a thing was possible.

"I told you," Virginia said to Adeline. "Sam wants to hang on to this house until some developer is willing to pay big bucks for it. He offered to cut me in on the profits. It's a terrific business opportunity for me." Who was she trying to convince? She wondered.

Adeline reached for a piece of neon-orange candy. "Maybe the fact that it's just a business deal is part of the problem. Maybe that's not what you want."

No, Virginia thought. It most definitely was not what she wanted. Late this afternoon, after a long walk and a cup of coffee in the lonely little park at the end of the street, she had finally forced herself to face that fact. She was in love with Sam, but all he wanted from her was her signature on a contract. Marriage, especially a marriage-of-convenience, would be hell. The frustration factor alone would probably drive her to the nearest para-psych ward within a month. She was almost sure now that she could not go through with the arrangement.

But she had not yet figured out how to tell Sam.

She had planned to get things out in the open tonight. Then she had opened the door of the office and walked straight into the engagement party.

She could hardly bring up the subject now in the midst of a party. She would wait until morning. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell him that she was having second thoughts.

She felt a guilty sense of relief at having made the decision to put off the inevitable for another few hours.

She was getting cold feet. He could feel the chill clear across the room. Every time he caught her eye, she averted her gaze or started up an earnest conversation with whoever happened to be standing nearby.

The last of the guests finally departed shortly after midnight. Sam closed the door behind the laggard and turned to see Virginia sinking down into the chair behind her desk. His bride-to-be looked both relieved and exhausted. She also looked cross. But then, lately she frequently looked tense and irritable. Bridal jitters. The odd thing was that the more anxious she got, the calmer and more certain he became.

She leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. "Thought they'd never go."

"They meant well," he said.

"I know." She rested her head against the back of her chair. "But they don't understand."

"Sure they do. We're getting married. People like to celebrate marriages. Even MCs."

"I don't see why."

"Because there is a streak of the romantic buried somewhere inside most people," he explained patiently. "Deep down, everyone hopes that marriages-of-convenience will morph into the real thing."

"That's a highly unrealistic expectation. Statistically speaking, most MCs end on the first or second renewal date unless someone makes a mistake and gets pregnant." She paused meaningfully. "And there is absolutely no excuse for that kind of mistake."

"Right. No excuse."

Few mistakes of that sort were made because the First Generation colonists who had settled Harmony had crafted very strict legislation covering marriage and family. The more liberal social policies of Earth had been abandoned when the energy Curtain that had served as a gate between worlds had unexpectedly closed, stranding the settlers. The founders, desperate to provide a social structure that would ensure the survival of the colony, had opted for stern laws. But in their wisdom, the First Generation planners had also understood that harsh rules that did not take human weaknesses into account would ultimately fail. Failure of the social structure of the tiny band of desperate settlers would mean catastrophe.

In an effort to deal with basic human foibles, the founders had provided the socially and legally sanctioned marriages-of-convenience to cover many of the traditional and less-than-romantic reasons that drove people into wedlock: family pressure, business, or simple passion. Couples who elected to have children were expected to file for the more formal covenant marriage.

The muted warble and twang of a high-rez rock guitar sounded from the street. Sam crossed the office to the window, made a space between the blinds, and studied the night-shrouded sidewalk.

The Old Quarter teemed with revelers tonight. The heavy river fog that had cloaked Cadence nightly for the past several days had deterred no one. People dressed as witches, goblins, and ghosts—the fairytale sort, not the very real remnants of dangerous alien energy known as unstable dissonance energy manifestations—drifted in and out of the mists. Orange lights came and went eerily in the shadows. As Sam watched, a grinning jack-o'-lantern appeared out the gloom. Someone shrieked in pretended fright. Raucous laughter echoed in the night.

This was Halloween eve, and the noise level was already high. Tomorrow night, Halloween night, would be bedlam. Half of Cadence would flock to the Old Quarter to party. There was no place in town quite as atmospheric at Halloween as the seedy districts adjacent to the ancient walls of the Dead City.

In this part of town, ambient psi energy leaked continuously through tiny, often invisible cracks in the emerald-colored stones. It seeped up from the endless miles of green quartz tunnels and corridors beneath the pavement. The little currents and eddies of energy were part of the lure of the Old Quarters of all the cities on Harmony that had been built near the sites of ancient ruins. Tourists and locals alike loved the creepy sensations, especially at this time of year.

Maybe there was something to the theory that the flickers of psychic and para energy were stronger at this time of year, Sam thought. Ever since he had been a kid running loose on the streets, it had always seemed to him that he was more aware of the traces of ancient alien psi energy at Halloween. Tonight was no exception. The not-quite-human trickles of power that leaked out of the Dead City felt very strong. The stuff whispered through his mind, making him deeply aware of the unseen paranormal world that hovered just beyond the range of the physical senses. The surge in power levels that he detected were probably nothing more than the result of his overactive imagination, he thought. The same imagination that had conjured up the brilliant idea of talking Virginia into a marriage-of-convenience.

In hindsight, all he could say was that it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Behind him, Virginia yawned. "We'd better get some sleep. Mac Ewert will be expecting us early tomorrow morning. He's anxious to get his excavation site cleared so that he can get his team back on the job. He made a big point of reminding me of how much money he's losing with every day of lost work."

"You're right. We need some sleep. Don't want to doze off in front of Gage & Burch's first client." Sam turned away from the window. "I'll see you to your door."

For a few seconds, the tension in her eyes retreated. She gave him a familiar, laughing smile, the kind of smile she had bestowed on him frequently until he had asked her to merge her business with his and file for an MC. At the sight of the glowing look, he felt his whole body tighten. The desire he had worked so hard to conceal for the past two months heated his blood. With every passing hour it was getting harder to quash the rush of sexual anticipation that stirred him whenever he was near Virginia.

By the time his nonwedding night arrived, he would be a basket case.

What the hell had he been thinking? A marriage-of-convenience in which he slept on the third floor while Virginia slept on the second floor was going to make him certifiably crazy.

She rose from the chair and stretched. "I thought it was my turn to see you to your door."

"Want to flip a coin?"

"Okay, but this time let's try one of my mine. I don't trust that one that you like to use. It always comes up heads." She dug a quarter out of her pocket. "Call it."

"Heads." He moved toward her.

She flipped the coin into the air. He caught it before it struck the polished surface of her desk.

"Heads," he said without bothering to look at it.

She wrinkled her nose. "You're in luck. I'm too tired to argue."

At the door of the office, she paused to switch off the lights. He followed her out into the front hall and locked up. Together, they climbed the elaborately carved central staircase to the second floor and went down the corridor to the small suite of rooms she used as an apartment.

She opened her door, stepped inside, and swung around to face him through the narrow opening. Her green-and-gold eyes were big and deep in the shadows. He could feel the tingle of awareness in his paranormal senses and knew that he was responding to her on the psychic plane as well as on the physical level. Sensual psi energy shimmered disturbingly in the small space that separated them. Couldn't she sense it? He wondered. Was she really oblivious to the attraction between them?

The wariness in her eyes made him uneasy. With each passing day, she appeared to be growing more restless. His fears of being driven crazy by sexual frustration were submerged beneath a new concern: What if she changed her mind? What if she canceled the MC?

Stay focused, he told himself. This will work. It had to work.

"Good night," he said as casually as he could manage. He forced himself to take a step back. What he really wanted to do was pick her up and carry her through the small living room, straight into her bedroom. "I'll see you in the morning."

She hesitated. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" He realized that he had stopped breathing.

She sighed. "Never mind. It's not important. Good night."

Very gently, she closed the door in his face.

He reminded himself to breathe.