Amaryllis

garbage and a pair of small, harmless twin-snakes.

Dealing with the erratic bursts of talent had proved to be much more complicated. Icy Claxby was an untrained prism. He could provide only limited guidance.

Psychic power made its own demands on a growing boy, just as all the other natural human needs and abilities did. The inborn urge to use the talent, to control it, and to understand it drove Lucas to seek solitude for extended periods of time. Icy Claxby had always been a loner himself. He didn't ask many questions about Lucas's absences.

With increasing frequency, Lucas took refuge in a small, hidden grotto he had discovered deep in the jungle. There, secure in the knowledge that no one could come upon him without warning, Lucas had spent endless hours teaching himself to deal with the strong spikes of psychic energy that his mind produced. The realization that he might never be able to work with a prism who could focus his full spectrum of talent had made him struggle all the harder to learn to control it himself.

He'd had some limited success, much to ley's surprise. Lucas taught himself enough to conceal the extent of his talent from others, including prisms and synergistic psychologists. If he concentrated, he could force his psychic energy to obey his will for a few seconds at a time without using a prism. The hard-won skill had saved his life and the lives of others on more than one occasion during the Western Islands Action.

It was in the course of cleaning out the pirates that Lucas had discovered there were other powerful talents with secrets living in the islands. The knowledge that he was not the only freak in the world had reassured him. But Rafe Stonebraker and Nick Chastain valued their privacy as much as he valued his. The three men became friends and allies, but they rarely discussed the subject of their off-the-chart talents.

Icy Claxby died the year Lucas turned eighteen. Work, study, and the search for jelly-ice had filled the void for a time, but in the end a cold, dark well of loneliness had opened up somewhere deep inside Lucas. He spent long hours in his hidden grotto, gazing into the fathomless jungle pool. His dream of having a family of his own returned to haunt him.

Eventually he had formed a partnership with Jackson Rye, and for a time the fantasy of belonging to the Rye clan had kept the old dreams at bay, but Lucas had never lost sight of his goal to have his own family.

Five years ago he had met Dora. She had been as alone in the world as he. It seemed to him that they had a lot in common.

The runaway marriage had been a disaster, just as every- one had predicted. It took Lucas less than six weeks to realize that he had been married for his money. Family law being what it was, divorce was not a possibility, so Lucas spent the next eighteen months hoping that his beautiful, sexy, vivacious wife would learn to be happy with him. There were times when he thought he was making progress.

But one day, in a low moment, he had made the mistake of telling Dora about his talent. Whatever affection she might have had for him evaporated in an instant.

'Five hells,' Dora whispered, horrified. 'You're some kind of psychic vampire.'

'It's not like that,' Lucas said desperately. 'It's harmless.'

'You're a freak, that's what you are. A damned freak. You should have told me before I agreed to marry you.'

Lucas looked into her eyes and knew that he had just destroyed any hope of having the relationship he had yearned for. He should have listened to Icy Claxby.

'You can skip the outraged horror act.' Lucas smiled humorlessly. 'We both know you would never have turned down the chance to be the wife of the owner of Lodestar Exploration, even if you had known that he was a freak.'

'You aren't the only owner of Lodestar,' she reminded him.

In the end Lucas had learned the true meaning of being alone when he found himself sharing a home with a woman who wanted another man.

He pushed aside the old memories with the same ruthless control that he used to conceal his talent. He focused on the Synergistic Connections questionnaire.

Hair color. Did he really give a damn about hair color? What did it matter, anyway. A woman could dye her hair any color she chose.

A rich shade of amber brown would be nice, though.

He frowned when he noticed that the word amber did not appear on the list of hair colors. Light brown, dark brown, and reddish brown were offered, but not amber. Lucas picked up a pen and wrote in his selection.

Then he realized what he'd done.

'Damn.' Lucas flipped the questionnaire closed and shoved it back in the drawer. He reached for the phone and dialed swiftly, before he could give himself time to reconsider.

A plumy masculine voice answered. 'Psynergy, Inc. We make it happen. How can I help you?'

'I'd like to speak to Amaryllis Lark, please.'

'One moment.'

There was a pause and then Amaryllis came on the line. 'This is Amaryllis Lark.'

Lucas frowned at the tension in her voice. 'Something wrong?' He thought he heard her breath catch. He didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Life was complicated for the intuitionally impaired.

'Is that you, Mr. Trent?'

'I'm not a client any longer. You can call me Lucas.'

'Is there a problem with your bill?'

'I haven't seen it yet.' Lucas lounged back in his chair. 'It's probably sitting in my secretary's In basket.' For some reason he began to feel a little more in control of the situation. 'I'm calling to ask if you'd like to go out with me.'

'Out?'

'Yes, out. You know, like on a date.'

'A date?'

She was floundering badly. He could tell that much. Lucas wondered if it was an indication that she was trying to think of a way to turn him down or if she was so excited by the prospect of seeing him again that she could hardly speak. He suspected it was the former, not the latter.

'As I just pointed out,' he said, 'I'm no longer a client. That being the case, I wondered if maybe your professional code of ethics would allow you to see me socially. Now that you've sent the bill and all.'

'You're registered at a marriage agency.'

'So are you. What has that got to do with anything? There's nothing in the agency contract that says we can't date whoever we want while we're waiting for them to find Mr. and Mrs. Right for us.'

'You're serious, aren't you?'

'Do I sound like a stand-up comedian?'

'No.'

'Good. Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?' He realized he was holding his breath.

'As it happens, I have plans for this evening,' she said slowly.

'I see.' He exhaled deeply. It was probably better this way. No point getting involved in an affair that was limited by its very nature. He would go back to saving himself for his future wife.

Amaryllis hesitated. 'You're welcome to join me.'

On the other hand, his future wife was highly unlikely to be saving herself for him, Lucas thought. He straightened in the chair. 'Yeah, sure. I'll join you. Where are we going?'

'It's sort of a business matter, not a social thing,' she said hesitantly. 'I have to see someone at a club down in Founders Square. Someplace called SynCity.'

Lucas opened his mouth. Nothing coherent emerged. Just something that sounded like 'Hub?'

'SynCity. Have you heard of it?'

'Uh--'

'Lucas, is something wrong?'

'Uh--'

'Look, if this is a problem for you, feel free to decline,' Amaryllis said crisply. 'I realize it's probably not what you had in mind for the evening.'

'No,' Lucas managed. 'No, it's not, but it's not a problem.' Fortunately he was sitting down, he thought.