'Lucas? Where are you going?'
'To check the fire. Don't worry, I'll be right back.'
'I'll be waiting.' She turned onto her side, stretched, and propped her head on the arm of the sofa. She watched Lucas as he crossed the room to the hearth.
He was magnificent. Big and sleek and utterly masculine. The firelight gleamed on his strongly muscled flanks and broad shoulders. Just the sight of him sent little frissons of excitement through her thoroughly sated body.
She felt a brush of energy on the psychic plane and silently responded. Lucas held the intimate link with her for a few minutes while he crouched to adjust the supply of jelly-ice.
He finished his small task, rose to his feet, and braced one hand on the mantle. Instead of returning to the sofa, he stood gazing down into the flames.
'You're brooding,' Amaryllis said.
In the flaring firelight, the fierce planes and angles of his face appeared harder edged and more grim than usual. 'It won't be easy, you know.'
As if she could read his mind, she understood. 'I know. If you come with me to Lower Bellevue to celebrate my aunt's birthday the day after tomorrow, we can tell my family together.'
He turned slowly to face her. With his back to the fire, it was impossible to see his expression. 'What will you do if your aunt and uncle refuse to give you their blessing?'
'Marry you anyway. They'll come around in time. They love me. All they want is for me to be happy.'
'Will you be happy with me?'
'I don't see how I could be happy with anyone else,' she said simply.
'We'll argue.'
'Everyone argues at times, even people who are matched through an agency.'
'You'll probably pull that virtuous little founder act on me from time to time, and I'll tell you that you're prissy and straitlaced and too damn picky.'
She smiled. 'And then you'll remember that I picked you.'
Lucas came toward her. 'Yeah.' His voice roughened. 'Then I'll remember that you picked me.'
He lowered himself onto the sofa and pulled her into his arms. His eyes reflected the flames on the hearth as he bent his head to take her mouth.
'Incredible.' Clementine whistled softly as she refolded the newspaper. 'Who would have believed it. Senator Madison Sheffield, Mr. Founders' Values man himself. Blackmail victim and murderer. We came too damn close to losing you, Amaryllis. This is one scary story.'
'You're telling me.' Amaryllis poured herself a cup of coff-tea from the office pot. 'I tried to tell everyone that Sheffield was unethical and very likely dishonest, but no one would listen to me.'
'I know, I know.' Clementine held up her hand. 'Amaryllis, hasn't anyone ever told you that no one likes a person who keeps saying I told you so?'
'The boss is right,' Byron said. 'That sort of person is very irritating.'
'Hah. Better get used to it.' Amaryllis smiled blandly. 'I intend to say it a lot around here. And I'll tell you something else, when the police reopen their investigation of Professor Landreth's death, they're going to discover that he was murdered, too.'
Clementine's brows rose. 'By Sheffield?'
'Who else?' Amaryllis said. 'He must have learned about the file that Professor Landreth had made on him. He couldn't risk the possibility that Landreth would go public with his accusations.'
'I wonder if they'll be able to prove it,' Clementine mused.
'Even if they can't tie Sheffield to Landreth's death, they should be able to nail him for killing that stripper,' Byron said.
'Don't count on it,' Clementine said dryly. 'He's a city-state senator, after all, and he's denying everything. When was the last time a high-ranking politician did any serious prison time?'
'One way or another. I'm sure justice will be done,' Amaryllis said. 'That reminds me, I must phone Irene Dunley. She'll be anxious to hear the details of what happened last night. She's the only one who supported me when I started looking into the matter of Professor Landreth's death.'
'Let me see that paper.' Byron leaned over his desk to snatch the newspaper out of Clementine's hands. He studied the headlines with something that might have been pride. 'Wow. Like totally synergistic. Interesting shot of you, Amaryllis.'
'Really?' Amaryllis went around the reception desk to look at the news photo. For an instant she didn't recognize the scene, let alone herself. Then her face went red. 'Oh, my God. I hope my family doesn't see this.'
The picture had obviously been taken by someone in the SynCity Club audience. A patron had smuggled in a camera in spite of the rules, Amaryllis thought grimly. The photo showed her, center stage, hands raised in her frantic attempt to get someone's attention.
Clementine leaned over the desk. 'Sort of looks like you're conducting the activities on stage, Amaryllis.'
'This is so embarrassing,' Amaryllis muttered. 'I wonder if the
In the photo she appeared to be orchestrating the erotic actions of the outrageously attired syn-sex performers on either side of her. Discreet portions of the dancers' anatomies had been covered with small, black squares. The
In the background of the picture, one could just make out Lucas and Sheffield on the floor. They looked as if they were locked in each others' arms.
'Great advertising for Psynergy, Inc.,' Byron declared. 'The phone's going to be ringing all day. Every talent in town will want to hire Amaryllis.'
'They can't have me,' Amaryllis said. 'At least not for a couple of days. Clementine said I'm not to accept any assignments today, remember? And I'll be out of town tomorrow and most of the following day.'
'Oh, yeah.' Byron frowned as he scanned the story of Amaryllis's adventures. 'You're going to your great- aunt's birthday party, aren't you? Bet your family will be excited when they hear what you've been up to in the big city.'
'Not as excited as they're going to be when I tell them that I'm getting married,' Amaryllis murmured.
Byron's head snapped up abruptly. 'You've been matched already?'
Clementine looked thoughtful. 'Not likely. There hasn't been enough time for the agency to find a good selection of candidates for you. What are you up to, Amaryllis?'
Amaryllis braced herself. This was only the beginning, she thought. It would get worse before it got better. No one approved of runaway marriages. 'I'm going to marry Lucas.'
'Trent?' Clementine's jaw dropped. 'Are you crazy? He's a class nine.'
Byron's eyes widened. 'Holy synergy. What will your family say?'
'I'll find out tomorrow,' Amaryllis said.
Clementine propped one hip on Byron's desk and crossed her arms. She regarded Amaryllis with troubled eyes. 'Are you sure you know what you're doing?'
'Yes.'
Clementine cleared her throat. 'Passion is a tricky thing. I hope you're not making the mistake of thinking that it's always linked to love. Marriage is forever, you know. You don't want to take any risks--'
The office door opened before Clementine could finish her lecture. Grateful for the interruption, Amaryllis turned to see who had entered. She stifled a small sigh when she saw Gifford.
'Good morning.' Gifford was dressed in his customary silver gray suit, but his red bow tie appeared a little wilted. He nodded stiffly to Clementine, ignored Byron, and turned immediately to Amaryllis. 'I've got to talk to you.'
Amaryllis took a sip of coff-tea. 'The last time you said that, you stuck me in the back of a limousine with a murderer.'
'What's this?' Clementine gave Gifford a sharp look.
'Never mind,' Amaryllis said. 'It's a long story. Come into my office, Gifford.'
Clementine glowered ferociously at Gifford. 'Touch her and you're a dead man.'
