working on. There was an instant attraction. We both felt the thrilling frissons of energy resonating between us. I asked you out, and you said yes. Simple.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Thrilling frissons of energy?”
“I thought it had a romantic ring.”
She took another deep breath and tried again. “Look, my sister has arranged for everyone from both families to stay at a hotel in the Old Quarter tonight. The rehearsal dinner will be held there this evening, and after the wedding tomorrow, the reception will take place in the hotel ballroom.”
“So?”
“So, you do realize that you cannot share a room with me, don’t you? My father would come unhinged. My mother would cry, and my sister would be worried sick. No telling what my brother might do.”
“Your family doesn’t think you’re all grown up yet?”
“It’s not that.” She hesitated. “It’s because of what happened with Benson Landry.”
“The hotel room photographs?”
“Damn. I should have known. You found those, too?”
His mouth curved with wry apology. “I keep telling you, I make my living as an investigator. Finding out stuff is what I do.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that you had to dig too far to find those awful pictures. They were all over the tabloids in Frequency City. Benson Landry is a very powerful man in that town. The news that he was involved in an affair with me made headlines for nearly two weeks. It destroyed my reputation as a marriage consultant.”
“In other words, your family feels protective of you after what happened.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry about the hotel room situation,” Davis said easily. “I’ll take care of it.”
“How?” she demanded.
“It is precisely for situations such as this that the hospitality industry invented the concept of connecting rooms.”
She absorbed that. “I see.”
The landscape had altered dramatically. The rich, agricultural region around Cadence City, fed by the mighty Cadence River, had given way to the over one hundred miles of stark desert that separated Cadence from Frequency. The long haul was broken by the occasional truck stop where drivers could recharge the flash-rock engines of their vehicles and grab some really bad food.
Here and there along the highway, dirt roads veered off into the desert. Most of them were unmarked. Celinda assumed they led to abandoned ranches or homesteads. A couple were identified with faded signs indicating roadside attractions.
Her personal favorite attraction was the one located halfway between the two cities. It was announced every twenty or thirty miles by a series of billboards that had once glowed in the dark but had long since faded to a dull, pea green. The first one had appeared just outside of Cadence: Only a Hundred and Fifty Miles to the Haunted Alien Ruins. The one they were passing now advised, Thirty Miles to the Haunted Alien Ruins.
“Mind if I ask you a personal question?” Davis said after a while.
“Yes,” she said, aware that probably wasn’t going to stop him.
“What made you, a professional matchmaker, think that Benson Landry was worth the risk to your reputation?”
The question blindsided her.
She hesitated, on the verge of her customary answer. Just one of those things. Swept off my feet by a big Guild man. Landry was good-looking. Powerful. You know what they say about Guild men being good lovers. Thought I’d find out. It was a reckless fling that went bad when the tabloids got hold of the story, blah, blah, blah.
But for some reason she found herself wanting to tell him what had really happened. After four long months of keeping the secret to herself, of thinking that she could and would keep it for a lifetime, she was suddenly overcome with the urge to confide in a man she had only just met.
It was his psi-vibes, she thought. She trusted Davis in a way she had never been able to trust any man.
Still, there was danger in revealing her secrets.
“Yesterday you told me that one of the things you offered your clients was confidentiality,” she said cautiously.
“Yes.”
“Does that extend to other people involved in a case that you happen to be investigating?”
“Depends. My policy is to protect the privacy of everyone involved unless it conflicts with my number one priority.”
“Solving the case?”
“It’s what I do, Celinda.”
She twisted around in the seat to look at him. “What about me? Can you guarantee that you’ll keep my secrets?”
“Yes. Unless it keeps me from doing my job.”
“What happened to me in Frequency City has nothing to do with recovering the relic.”
“Then I’ll keep your secrets, Celinda.”
She watched him for a moment longer and then settled back into the seat. She believed him, she thought. But what if he didn’t believe her? She would look delusional, at the very least. Worst-case scenario, he might conclude she was a pathological liar.
Ice trickled down her spine. She folded her arms very tightly around herself. Araminta suddenly hopped down onto her shoulder and made small comforting noises. Celinda unwound her arms, reached up, and patted her gently.
“I never for one moment believed that Benson Landry was worth the risk to my reputation,” she said eventually. “Just the opposite. I think of him as a man out of a nightmare.”
Davis gave her another one of his enigmatic looks. “So how did you wind up in bed with him?”
“That’s easy. He drugged me.”
Chapter 14
DAVIS FELT AS IF HE’D TAKEN A BODY BLOW. “WHAT THE hell?”
“I knew he was dangerous the moment he walked into my office,” Celinda continued in that same too-even tone.
“He was a client?”
“No. I never accepted him as one. Never signed a contract. Never took his money.”
“He wanted you to match him, and you refused?”
“Landry’s positioning himself to take over the Frequency Guild when the current Guild boss retires. There’s the usual power struggle going on. As I’m sure you’re aware, very few Guild chiefs retire willingly. Most of them have to be forced out of office by their Councils. Harold Taylor has been in ill health for some time. It won’t be long before he either dies or has to step down. He can’t hold on to his power base much longer.”
“And Benson Landry is waiting to make his move,” Davis said.
“He’s not just waiting, he’s actively preparing. Part of that preparation is finding himself a suitable wife. Guild bosses are almost always married.”
“Old tradition,” Davis agreed. “There are reasons.”
“Landry wanted me to find him a match for a Covenant Marriage. Being the arrogant SOB that he is, he had a long list of requirements, of course.”
“Let me hazard a guess,” Davis said. “He wanted someone who was beautiful, rich, and who came from a wealthy, well-connected Guild family.”
“If that was all he wanted, I’m sure he would have done his own matchmaking. Everyone knows that the
