Orchid

'Hardly the basis for a lasting relationship,' Edward observed.

'You'd be surprised.' Rafe started to step around Edward. 'If you'll excuse me, I just remembered something I wanted to say to Orchid.'

'Where is she?' Anna glanced around. 'Oh, yes, I see her.' As she gazed at the couple standing near the pool, a faintly troubled expression marred the serenity of her brow. 'She's chatting with Dr. Luce.'

Edward frowned. 'Why would she want to talk to him?'

'He probably didn't give her much choice,' Anna murmured. 'I do hope there won't be a scene.'

That comment made Rafe pause. 'You think Luce might make a scene in the middle of a wedding?'

Anna's mouth quirked with humor. 'Of course not. Preston Luce is much too diplomatic to cause a scene. It's Orchid who worries me.'

'Orchid?'

'She's never really forgiven him for the manner in which she believes he used her to get himself introduced into the right circles here at the institute. I've always had the nasty suspicion that she would not pass up an opportunity for revenge should it happen to come her way.'

'Anna, you exaggerate,' Edward said firmly. 'Orchid would never do anything to upset the synergistic harmony of Veronica's wedding day.' But he did not look as certain as his words indicated.

'I'll be right back.' Rafe started down the graveled path that would take him to the opposite end of the garden.

'Wait, there was, ah, one more thing I wanted to ask you,' Edward called after him. 'On the off chance that my daughter never gets another agency date—'

Rafe stopped. He turned slowly. 'What's that?'

'It's a very old-fashioned kind of question.' Edward smiled wryly. 'I'm sure you'll understand. What, exactly, do you do for a living?'

'I'm happy to be able to tell you, sir, that I have a pretty good job lined up. Nice benefits, excellent retirement plan, the works. I start in two months.'

'And just what is this job?'

'I'm going to be the new C.E.O. of Stonebraker Shipping.'

Edward's jaw unhinged. Comprehension lit his eyes. 'Good lord. Do you mean to say you're one of those Stonebrakers?'

'Close your mouth, dear,' Anna murmured. 'That unfortunate expression implies a lack of harmonious balance in the alignment of your personal synergy.'

Rafe did not wait around to see if Edward got his mouth closed. He was too busy making his way toward the reflecting pool at the other end of the garden, where Orchid stood with Preston Luce.

Some of his most primitive instincts had gone to red-alert status.

Preston did not smell right. The realization made Orchid curious. He certainly did not smell bad. He was as freshly showered and groomed as all of the other guests.

The herbal scent of soap and the faint tang of an expensive after-shave were pleasant enough.

But he did not smell right the way Rafe did.

She wondered if frequent focusing for a powerful strat-talent had sharpened some of her own more basic instincts.

She did not find Preston's scent compelling, but she had to admit that he was as handsome as ever. And as well dressed. The cuffs of his white trousers draped flu-idly over his white shoes. The expensively styled white jacket was nipped in just enough at the waist to emphasize the physique he kept carefully honed with frequent meta-zen-syn workouts.

She suspected that Preston practiced meta-zen-syn because it was fashionable among the faculty of the North Institute, not because he had any real interest in achieving personal harmony. Nevertheless, he had a flair for the proper outward effect. The white turtleneck he wore under the white jacket added just the right meta-zen-syn touch. Simple, refined, classically balanced.

'It's good to see you again.' Preston smiled his fallen-angel smile. 'You haven't been around much during the past year. I've missed you.'

'I doubt that,' Orchid said. 'I'm sure you've been much too busy securing grant money and climbing up the academic ladder at the North Institute to notice whether or not I was anywhere in the vicinity.'

'Things have been going rather well.' Preston had never seen any particular virtue in modesty. 'I'm now an associate in the department of synergistic studies. In a couple of years I'll probably take over the department.'

'I don't doubt that for a moment.'

Preston sipped blue wine and shoved one hand casually into the pocket of his elegantly pleated white trousers. 'I understand that your little psychic vampire novels have started to become rather popular.'

She gritted her teeth at the condescension in his voice.

'I'm cautiously optimistic that I'll be able to make a living from my writing.'

'I haven't read any of them myself.'

'Somehow that does not surprise me.'

'Tell you what. Why don't you give me one before you leave?' Preston winked indulgently. 'I'll be glad to take a look at it when I have a chance and give you a critique.'

'That's very magnanimous of you, but I'm afraid that you're operating under a totally false assumption, here, Preston.'

'I beg your pardon?'

She gave him her brightest smile. 'You're assuming I want or would value your opinion of my books. I don't and wouldn't. Besides, I doubt that you'd have time to read them.'

Preston frowned as if vaguely baffled by the fact that the conversation was not going quite as he had planned. His expression cleared quickly, however. With his customary social adroitness, he shifted direction.

'You're right about the time factor. I have enough trouble just keeping up with the research literature and departmental memos. To say nothing of the time it takes to chase grant money.'

'And heaven knows, seducing attractive new research assistants is practically a full-time occupation in itself, isn't it?'

Preston's fine brow furrowed briefly. He wanted something from her, Orchid thought. The fact that he did not find an excuse to end the conversation was a very big clue.

'And then there's the never-ending effort it takes to publish your assistants' work under your own name.'

He scowled. 'I publish the results of work performed under my direction. I have a right to put my name on those papers.'

'And we mustn't overlook the amount of time you invest in discreet ass-kissing in order to get funding for your projects.'

Preston reddened. 'Now see here, I pull in a hell of a lot of grant money for the institute and don't you forget it. Grant money is the life's blood of research.'

'And you use a little para-hyped charisma to get it, not your research credentials. You should have been a politician, Preston.'

Preston's eyes darkened furiously. He took a step closer to her.

A few more inches, Orchid pleaded silently. You're almost at the edge of the pool. Just a teensy bit farther.

But just when she was hopeful that his temper would make him careless on the wet stones at the water's edge, Preston's face relaxed abruptly into an expression of gentle concern.

Orchid felt the pulse of psychic energy and knew that he was trying to use his talent on her. He was limited by the lack of a prism, but even without someone to help him focus, she knew that he could project very strongly for a few seconds at a time.

She took a step back. 'Save it for the next corporate honcho you plan to ambush for grant money. I'll admit that a little punch of charisma-talent makes your suit and your teeth look really shiny and bright, but the effect doesn't last long on someone who knows you well, Preston.'

'You're bitter,' he said gently.

'No, actually, I'm pissed off at you.'