and every horse for that matter, in the Vieux Carre to hear?
'Keep your voice down,' she said, then added dryly, 'I don't think it's the business of my patients whether or not I'm a born-again virgin. And as for the Age of Electronics, I
Selena snorted. 'Yeah, well, to hear you talk, most men
Grace laughed. She'd rattled off that spiel about men who needed warning labels countless times.
'Ah, I see, Dr. Sex,' Selena said with an imitation Dr. Ruth accent. 'You just sit there and listen to them spout off all the intimate details of their sexual encounters while you live like a lifetime member of the Teflon Panty Club.'
Dropping her accent, Selena added, 'I can't believe after all the stuff you've heard in your sessions that none of it has ever gotten your hormones revved.'
Grace gave Selena a droll look. 'Yeah, well, I
'Well, I don't see how you can advise them when you won't go anywhere near a man.'
Grimacing, Grace led the way back to the other side of the square, across from the Tourist Information Center where Selena's tarot card and palm reading stand was set up.
When Grace reached the small card table draped with a dark purple cloth, she sighed. 'You know, I would date if I could ever find a man worth shaving my legs for. But most are such a waste of time that I'd rather sit at home and watch reruns of
Selena gave her an irritated smirk. 'What was wrong with Gerry?'
'Bad breath.'
'Jamie?'
'His fondness for mining nose gold. Especially during dinner.'
'Tony?'
Grace just looked at her.
Selena threw her hands up. 'Okay, so maybe he did have a little gambling problem. But then, everyone needs a hobby.'
Grace glared at her.
'Hey, Madam Selene, you back from lunch?' Sunshine asked from the next stand over where she hawked her sketches and pottery.
A few years younger than them, Sunshine had long, black hair and always wore clothes that reminded Grace of a fairy princess.
Her costume today was a wispy white skirt that would have been obscene if not for the pale pink leotard beneath it and a pretty peasant blouse.
'Yeah, I'm back,' Selena said as she knelt to unlock the doors on her metal wheeled cart that she secured every morning to the wrought-iron gate with a bicycle chain. 'Did I get any interest while I was gone?'
'A couple of guys took your business card and said they'd be back after they ate.'
'Thanks.' Selena placed her purse inside the cart, then pulled out the dark blue cigar box she used to hold her money, her tarot cards that she kept wrapped in a black silk scarf, and a thin, yet humongous, brown leather book Grace had never seen before.
Selena put her large-brimmed straw hat on her head, then turned and stood.
'Did you get all your pieces marked?' she asked Sunshine.
'Yes,' Sunshine said as she grabbed her purse. 'I still say it's bad luck. But at least if anyone wants to know the price for anything while I'm gone, it'll be there.'
A rough-looking biker pulled up to the curb. 'Hey, Sunshine,' he shouted, 'get your butt over here. I'm hungry.'
Sunshine waved her hand dismissively. 'Keep your chains on, Harry, and lay off or you'll be eating by yourself,' she said as she walked slowly toward him. She climbed up on the back of his motorcycle.
Grace shook her head at the two of them. Sunshine needed dating help a whole lot more than she did.
She watched as they drove past the Cafe du Monde. 'Ooo, I bet a beignet would be good for dessert.'
'Food is no substitute for sex,' Selena said as she placed the cards and book on her table. 'Isn't that what you keep telling-'
'All right, you've made your point. But really, Lanie, why are you suddenly so interested in my sex life? Or more importantly, the lack thereof?'
Selena handed her the book. 'Because I have an idea.'
Now that was something that chilled her to her bones, even in this wretched heat. And Grace didn't frighten easily. Well, not unless it involved Selena and one of her cockamamie ideas. 'Not another seance?'
'No, this is better.'
Inwardly, Grace cringed and wondered what she'd be doing right now if she'd had a normal roommate her first year at Tulane instead of the flighty Gypsy wanna-be Selena. One thing was sure, she wouldn't be discussing her sex life in the middle of a crowded street.
In that instant, she became acutely aware of their differences. She stood in the humid heat wearing a thin, sleeveless Ralph Lauren creme silk dress, her dark hair pulled back into a sophisticated chignon while Selena wore a long flowing black broomstick skirt with a tight purple tank top that barely covered her ample chest.
Selena's shoulder-length frizzy brown hair was pulled up with a black leopard silk scarf and she had huge silver moon earrings hanging to her shoulders. Not to mention the silver mine she had strapped to both her wrists in the way of about a hundred and fifty silver bangles. Bangles that jingled every time she moved.
People had always remarked on their physical differences, but Grace knew Selena hid her astute mind and insecurity behind her 'exotic' attire. Inside, the two of them were far more alike than anyone would ever guess.
Except for Selena's bizarre belief in the occult.
And Selena's insatiable appetite for sex.
Moving to stand beside her, Selena forced the book into Grace's reluctant hands and thumbed through it. Grace did her best not to drop it.
Or roll her eyes.
'I found this the other day in that old bookstore by the Wax Museum. It was covered by a mountain of dust, and I was trying to find this book on psychometry when I came across it, and
Grace looked down at the picture, then gaped.
Never had she seen such a thing.
The man in the picture was riveting, and the picture absolutely shocking in its detail. If not for the deep impression marks on the page where it had been drawn, she would have sworn it was an actual photograph of some ancient Greek statue.
No, she corrected herself-a Greek god. Surely no mortal man could
Standing
His very veins stood out on a body made perfect with the promise of a hard, lean strength designed purely for feminine pleasure.
Her mouth dry, Grace trailed her gaze over his muscles, which bulged in perfect proportion to his height and weight. She followed the lean, hard muscles over the deep indentation that divided his pectorals, down the washboard stomach that just begged for a woman's touch.
To his navel.
And then to his…