crystal. She had stored the memory of the appreciative gleam that had appeared in Nick's eyes when he saw her in it away in her heart. In the years ahead she knew that she would take it out from time to time to cherish it.
'I read in the papers that your recent expansion has given you the platform you need to launch the new generation of Synlce software,' she said. 'Congratulations. You pulled it off.'
'The media blitz is scheduled to start next month.' Duncan's mouth tilted wryly. 'I'm surprised you even noticed the news about Synlce. Your relationship with Chastain seems to occupy most of the front page these days.'
She wrinkled her nose. 'Only in the tabloids. And only because a certain Cedric Dexter has apparently decided to use Nick as a means of establishing a reputation as a sleazeoid photographer.'
'Seems to be working. From what I can tell, Synsa-tion sales are skyrocketing.'
'How would you know?'
Duncan grinned. 'Are you kidding? I'm one of the first in line to get my copy every morning.'
Zinnia blushed. 'I'd like to strangle Dexter.'
Duncan's smile faded. 'It's serious, isn't it? This thing with Chastain?'
'Yes.'
'I guess there's not much point in warning you off him again, is there?'
'No.'
'Be careful, Zinnia.'
'It may be too late for that, too.' She smiled. 'But don't worry about me, Duncan. I know what I'm doing.'
'And you don't give a damn about the gossip.' He shook his head slightly. 'I should hire you into an executive position at SynIce. You've got more guts than all of my managers put together.'
Nick stood in the shadows of a large potted fern-tree and sipped a glass of champagne while he watched Duncan and Zinnia finish their dance. He was brooding again. He couldn't help it. The sensation of wrongness was a whisper of dread that touched all of his senses this evening, including those that functioned on the metaphysical plane.
The confusing part was that he could no longer sort out the legitimate sensory input that his psychically honed instincts were picking up from the rush of tangled sensations that he felt toward Zinnia.
He wanted to protect her from Luttrell, but logic told him there was no cause for concern. After all, she had been seeing Luttrell off and on for a month and a half before he had even met her. If she had been interested in the president of Synlce, she would have done something about it earlier. If there was one thing Zinnia was good at, he reminded himself, it was taking action to achieve her goals.
So why did the sight of her in Luttrell's arms make every single one of his muscles tighten as if in response to a threat? He did not understand the matrix here. This emotional stuff clogged up his thinking processes.
'Good evening, Nicholas.'
Only one person in the whole world called him Nicholas. Nick steeled himself and turned to see Orrin's wife, Ella, standing at his shoulder.
'Hello, Aunt Ella.'
He knew the greeting would annoy her. Like her husband, Ella hated to be reminded that he had a blood- relationship with the family. She was a small too-thin woman whose once-lovely features had become sharp and tightly drawn over the years. Nick was almost certain that her pinched look was the result of a restless dissatisfaction that ate away constantly at her insides.
His investigations into Chastain family history had produced the information that thirty-five years ago Ella had hoped to marry Bartholomew Chastain. When Bartholomew had left for the Western Islands without showing any interest in either the marriage or his family's business, she had turned her attention to Orrin. Nick suspected that it was Ella's skillful maneuvering that had resulted in Orrin becoming CEO of Chastain, Inc. after Bartholomew disappeared.
Ella had got what she wanted, but as far as Nick could see, she had never been particularly happy about it.
'I was surprised when Orrin told me that you would be here tonight,' Ella said crisply. 'I hadn't realized that you had been accepted into the Founders' Club.'
'I can understand your deep sense of shock.' Nick swirled the champagne in his glass. 'The decline in standards these days is appalling, isn't it?'
'I assume you intended that to be amusing.'
'Not really.'
Ella cast a disapproving look at Zinnia, who was still in the middle of the dance floor with Duncan. 'If you plan to move in these circles you would do well to be a bit more discriminating in your choice of female companions. Miss Spring has a certain reputation.'
Nick swung around so quickly that Ella gasped and took a hasty step back. He lowered his voice to the merest of whispers. 'So do I. Among other things, I am known for not tolerating insults to women who have honored me with their company.'
Ella blinked once and then recovered quickly. 'Don't you dare threaten me, Nicholas.'
'I assume you want something or you would not have gone out of your way to talk to me in front of all your socially acceptable friends.'
'There's no need for sarcasm. I wish to speak to you about a family matter.'
'I thought you didn't consider me to be a member of the family.'
Ella's too-snug features became even more tightly drawn. 'There is no denying that you are Bartholomew's son. The whole world can see that. You are his living image. Therefore, I think it's time you repaid your obligation to this family.'
'Only a Chastain would have the nerve to suggest that I've got an obligation to this family.'
'I'm sure you're well aware that Chastain, Inc. is having financial difficulties.'
'Yes.' He smiled.
Ella's gaze hardened with grim determination. 'I won't beat around the bush. Orrin's talks with Mr. Luttrell did not go well.'
'You mean Luttrell refused to pour cash into Chastain?'
'Very shortsighted of him, but there you have it. As of this evening, Orrin has exhausted all possibilities. Chastain faces complete ruin. It is your responsibility to step into the breach. You are the only one who possesses sufficient financial capital to save the firm.'
Nick nearly choked on the champagne. 'My responsibility?'
'As the son of Bartholomew Chastain, it is your duty to invest in the family business. Orrin tells me that the company must have a cash infusion soon or we shall face bankruptcy. I will contact you in a few days to tell you exactly how much money is required.'
'You look as if you've just watched the Curtain reopen.' Zinnia smiled quizzically at Nick as he drew her out onto the dance floor. 'Something wrong?'
'I had an amazing conversation with my aunt a few minutes ago.' Nick took her into his arms and moved her into a slow gliding turn. 'She informed me that I have a duty to invest in Chastain, Inc.'
'Your family's firm?'
'My side of the family has no interest in the company.'
'I see.' She was amused by the austere passion that he had somehow managed to infuse into that simple declaration.
'What are you smiling at?'
'Nothing.'
'Don't give me that.' He glowered. 'You think it's funny that my aunt wants me to put my money into the company?'
'No. I think it's a sign that the rest of the Chastains are desperate. I know the feeling.'
'What in five hells do you mean?'
'If I'd been in your aunt's position, I'd have done the same thing. Unfortunately when Spring Industries went under there was no one in the family who had enough cash to save it.'
'As far as the rest of the Chastains are concerned, I'm not in the family.' Nick's hand tightened around her
