Lucas wondered what Amaryllis would say if she realized that she had come within a hairbreadth of making love with an off-the-scale talent whom most people would say fully qualified as a genuine, real-life psychic vampire.
He thought she was a prissy, sanctimonious little prig. Amaryllis sat hunched over her morning cup of coff-tea and bleakly contemplated the disastrous evening. It was not an edifying endeavor.
It had been a very long night. A glance in the bathroom mirror earlier had sent a shudder through her. The dark circles under her eyes were not especially flattering.
She had relived the farewell scene at her front door countless times, and it never got any better. She could still see the derision in Lucas's expression as he made his exit. He thought she was a prim, stiff-necked prism who couldn't unbend long enough to enjoy a night of mutual sexual synergy.
Amaryllis groaned. Better Lucas thought her a narrow-minded, straitlaced prig than that he learn the real truth, which was that she was an idiot.
It was the only logical explanation.
Surely only an idiot would have turned down the chance to make love with the only man who had ever made her feel such passion.
What had stopped her, Amaryllis wondered. It certainly wasn't the Code of Focus Ethics. She had fibbed when she had told Lucas that sleeping with a client was against the code.
The truth was, the code had nothing to say on the subject of personal relationships between prisms and talents. In reality, it was not considered a problem for most people. It was only in psychic vampire romance novels that full-spectrum prisms got passionately involved with powerful talents.
The phone rang just as Amaryllis started to pour herself a second cup of coff-tea. She knew who was on the other end even before she heard her aunt's cheery, determined voice.
'Amaryllis, dear, your picture is in the paper this morning. Have you seen it?'
'No, Aunt Hannah, I haven't.'
'Your uncle and I are so excited. I called everyone in the family right after breakfast.'
Amaryllis closed her eyes in despair. 'Wonderful.'
'You didn't tell me that you were going to attend that museum reception with Lucas Trent,' Hannah Lark said. 'He's the president of Lodestar Exploration.'
'I know. I was focusing for him, Aunt Hannah. I was there on assignment.'
'You did say something about the evening being work related. But, dear, he's not just any client. He's the man who commanded the defense of the Western Islands a few years ago. He's a hero.'
Amaryllis remembered the bleak expression in Lucas's eyes when he described how he had buried the truth about Jackson Rye's betrayal. She didn't care what he said, she knew he hadn't done it for the sake of the firm. He had done it to protect all of the people who would have been hurt. 'More than you'll ever know, Aunt Hannah.'
'And he found those weird relics, too. It says here that he's looking for a wife. The implication is that you're an agency date, but, of course, we know that's impossible.'
'Right. Impossible.'
'You aren't even registered yet.'
'I was working undercover. Aunt Hannah. It was a security job. The agency date stuff was the story we used to explain my presence at the reception.'
'Security work, you say.' Hannah's voice sharpened. 'Was it dangerous?'
'Not in the least.' Amaryllis pulled the morning paper across the counter and studied the photo of herself standing next to Lucas in front of a display case. She winced when she noticed that her mouth was hanging open. 'It was a very straightforward assignment.'
'Well? Don't leave me hanging. I promised your uncle that I'd find out everything I could about Lucas Trent.'
'What do you want to know?' Amaryllis asked warily.
'Well, under the circumstances, I think that the most important thing is to find out which matchmaking agency he's registered with.'
Horror shot through Amaryllis. 'Aunt Hannah, don't go getting any ideas. He's listed with Synergistic Connections, but he's a serious talent. Class nine.'
'What a pity.' Some of the enthusiasm drained out of Hannah's voice. 'Are you certain?'
'I saw his certification papers. I worked with him last night. Yes, I'm certain.' Amaryllis frowned at the recollection of that first surge of power through the prism. Definitely a full class nine. If she hadn't seen his papers, she would have guessed that he was higher than a nine. But his certificate had been very specific. Lucas was a class nine stuck with the almost useless ability to detect other talents at work.
'Oh, well. It was just a thought,' Hannah murmured. 'You know, I've heard that there have been one or two rare instances in which an agency matched a full-spectrum prism and a strong talent.'
'The instances are so rare as to be in the realm of legend,' Amaryllis said dryly. 'I repeat, don't start thinking of Lucas Trent as a possible match for me. It's not in the cards.'
'It really is a shame,' Hannah said regretfully. 'I wonder if Mr. Trent would have been a possibility if he weren't a class nine. Just speculating, you understand.'
'Don't bother,' Amaryllis muttered. 'Even without the talent-prism problem, I can promise you that no reputable agency would have matched us. Trent is not just my polar opposite psychically, he's also my opposite when it comes to temperament, personality, and personal philosophy of life.'
'Oh, well, all the more reason for finishing the forms from Synergistic Connections. I promised your counselor, Mrs. Reeton, that I would turn them in this week.'
'Why don't you just send the questionnaire to me. Aunt Hannah? I'll fill it out in my spare time.'
'No, you won't. You'll put it aside and never get around to it. You've been dragging your feet about this long enough. I blame your poor attitude on that unfortunate affair with Gifford Osterley. Sometimes I think he actually broke your heart.'
'He didn't break my heart. Or, if he did, I've recovered.'
'I'm not so sure about that. You've been running scared of men ever since.'
'Not true.' Amaryllis fiddled with her coff-tea mug. 'I've just been cautious.'
'Too cautious, if you ask me. When I was your age, I was out almost every night until I met Oscar. No offense, dear, but you're a bit of a stick-in-the-mud when it comes to your personal life.'
'A prissy little prig, would you say?'
'No, of course not. Just a bit shy, I think. Well, Synergistic Connections will find you some compatible dates. Now then, let's see, where did we leave off on this questionnaire?'
'I don't remember.'
Hannah ignored that. 'Ah, here we go. Physical characteristics desired in mate. We're almost finished with this section. You told me that you didn't have any strong preferences.'
'Gray eyes,' Amaryllis heard herself say.
'I beg your pardon?'
Amaryllis toyed with the phone cord. 'I want him to have gray eyes.'
'You're going to get choosy about eye color?' Hannah demanded in disbelief. 'Why in the world would you care about something so inconsequential?'
'I don't know.' Amaryllis felt suddenly, inexplicably inclined to be stubborn. 'But since this is my registration questionnaire. I'm going to be picky about eye color.'
'That's ridiculous. Dear, are you feeling well? You sound a little strange this morning.'
'Long night. Listen, Aunt Hannah, I've got to run. I'll be late for work.'
'What about the questionnaire?'
'I'll give you a call this evening.'
'See that you do,' Hannah said. 'I'll be waiting. We have to complete this quickly. Mrs. Reeton wants to schedule the personal interview.'
Raw panic nearly overwhelmed Amaryllis. Filling out the agency questionnaire was one thing. The personal interview with her assigned syn-psych counselor was another. This was getting serious. Reality hit Amaryllis with
