by Laura Leone
“But you will,” said Felix with certainty. “He’s the one.”
“Will you please stop saying that?” She glanced at Nick coldly. “This is, after all, a business decision, and there are a number of things I need to take into consideration. References, for example?”
“My only local reference is a lovely old lady, Mrs. Milne,” Nick told her.
“What kind of work did you do for her?” Diana persisted.
“It was highly confidential,” he said solemnly.
She regarded him suspiciously.
“Would you like her phone number?” he asked.
“Yes. I would also like to know why you’re so determined to have a low-paying, unskilled job.”
“I told you,” Nick said. She was certain his smile was meant to infuriate her. “I need to change my life. I was called here.”
“See? He was called here.” Felix was obviously satisfied.
Diana wished she felt more certain. Nick Tremain would have access to their house, their business, and their cash box. She had intended to investigate all candidates thoroughly, but she was being overwhelmed by Felix’s conviction and Nick’s personality.
“Wait a minute,” Diana repeated as Felix showed Nick Tremain back into the building. The two men turned to took at her. “I will give you a trial period of three days, Mr. Tremain.”
“Call me Nick.” His expression told her the trial period didn’t worry him a bit. And why should it? He had Felix eating out of his hand.
“Don’t pack your bags and move in until I’ve made a decision.” Diana wanted him to know he was mistaken if he thought he would have the same effect on her within three days.
He grinned at her confidently, and she had the feeling that she might as well not have made her protest. Felix was adamant that Nick Tremain was their destiny, and Nick knew it. Perhaps he had also already guessed what a soft spot she had for her father.
Three days later Nick arrived with a duffel bag full of his belongings. Diana led him up to the humble but clean bedroom on the second floor, just above Felix’s consulting room. She listened dubiously as Nick told her it would be just fine for him.
In the three days that he had worked with her in the House of Ishtar, Diana could not fault him. He caught on quickly, worked efficiently, and charmed the customers into spending more money than usual. He was humble about his lack of knowledge about health food, yoga, herbal tea, crystals, and New Age literature. He hung on Felix’s every word and was already dutifully plowing through the stack of books on astrology that Felix had assigned to him.
Normally she would have found his presence enjoyable. But for some reason, Diana couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that everything Nick Tremain said was a lie. Moreover, he was too distracting. Every time she felt his eyes upon her, her skin tingled. Every time he brushed by her, she felt his body heat, noticed the smooth bunch and flow of his muscles, wanted to touch his silky, black hair. And something about the glint in his eyes made her suspect he knew she couldn’t help noticing him.
Her involuntary responses to an employee whom she didn’t trust made her annoyed with herself—and short-tempered with everyone else. Particularly with Felix, who had overridden her objections to letting Nick move into their building. Now Diana felt an unnerving combination of uneasiness and excitement as she showed Nick his room and listened to his cheerful expressions of approval.
“You really like this room?” she asked doubtfully as he examined his surroundings.
“You were hoping I wouldn’t?” he said.
“Of course not. But all of Felix’s predictions aside, you’ve got secrets, Mr. Tremain.”
“Call me Nick,” he said, as usual.
“I’ve seen my fair share of astrologers’ acolytes, and you don’t fit the mold. What are you really doing here?” she challenged.
He turned to look at her. His gaze traveled over her body, clad in a short, denim skirt and a celery-green blouse. His eyelids drooped sensually, and he took a few steps closer to her.
“Why do you call him Felix?” he asked huskily.
“Huh?” she said, suddenly aware that he stood between her and the door. His shoulders were as wide as his hips were narrow. Every part of him looked as tough as granite.
Nick came to a stop right in front of her, so close that his body heat burned her senses. “Why don’t you call him Dad or Pa or something like that?”
She backed up a step. He took another step forward. She shrugged and felt her breasts rise and fall with the movement. “We just got into the habit as teenagers. I guess we thought it was cool or something.”
“We?” His warm, sweet breath fanned her face. She could see the tiny laugh lines feathering out from his eyes. “My sister and I.” She felt his eyes rove over her face, her hair, her collarbones. Did he notice her, too? she wondered with a sudden thrill of desire.
“You’re very fair.” His whisper melted over her like warm honey. His tanned hand lightly brushed her pale arm.
His touch went through her with a jolt of excitement. His palm was warm and smooth, hard where she was soft. She shivered. Embarrassed that a simple touch could make her quiver like a schoolgirl, she jerked her arm away.
“Stop hovering over me,” she snapped. She shoved him aside, refusing her hands the pleasure of lingering on his muscular chest, and walked to the door with long angry strides. “I expect you to be unpacked and downstairs, ready to work, in exactly one half hour. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She slammed the door with a satisfying clatter and stormed down the stairs. It was only when she let herself into the shop that she realized he had made his move on her quite deliberately and purposefully. He had wanted to change the subject, to get her attention away from asking about his past and his reasons for coming to her shop.
Diana flung an organic sponge across the shop as she realized she had fallen for his ploy. What was Nick Tremain trying to hide? She had telephoned his reference, Mrs. Milne, the first evening after meeting him. Mrs. Milne had spoken of him in glowing terms, confirmed that he had done work of a confidential nature for her, and said she had known him for nearly four years. It was little enough information, but Mrs. Milne possessed some quality, even over the telephone, that had made Diana believe her to be trustworthy. Moreover, Nick had given her his social security number that morning, so she assumed that whatever he was hiding, he wasn’t a fugitive from justice.
Felix was no help at all. He told her it was Leo’s nature to be protective of the nest. Diana sneered as she opened her accounts ledger and started balancing figures. She found it infuriating that her father always found a way to explain her behavior according to her birth date.
“I thought the reason you hired me was so that you could take a break once in a while,” Nick chided when he came downstairs and found Diana poring over the accounts.
“You’re awfully eager to get me out of the shop, aren’t you?” she snapped.
Nick sighed. “Forget I mentioned it.”
Diana regarded him speculatively. He met her look with disarming candor. He had incredible eyes, she acknowledged silently. Richly fringed with long, black lashes, they were the color of the Caribbean Sea, bright and arresting against the healthy bronzed tone of his skin. Maybe—just maybe—he really did want to change his life and learn about astrology, the tarot, and herbal tea. Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt.
She licked her lips, intending to say something conciliatory, and saw his gaze drop to her mouth, his lashes veiling those expressive eyes. Forbidden heat, so recently banished, seeped into Diana’s body again. She couldn’t ignore his nearness, his muscular strength, the fine smooth warmth of his skin. The unbidden thought came to her that for this man, she wanted to be soft and welcoming.
“Maybe I will take some time off this afternoon,” Diana said. She obviously needed a break. What was she thinking?
“Good idea,” he murmured. “Why don’t you show me what
you want me to do while you’re out?”
Diana nodded, feeling her throat constrict. Her mind was a blank. What should he do while she was out? She swallowed and moved past him. He followed her toward the back of the store.
“If it doesn’t get too busy,” she said, trying to force some briskness into her tone, “you could update our mailing list, dust the shelves back here, or check the expiration dates on the tofu packages.”
“Okay. I noticed a couple of lights are flickering back here. I’ll have a look at them, too.”
“Do you know anything about electricity?” She and Felix had nearly set fire to the building the one time they had tried to fiddle with the ancient electrical system.
“I know a little something.”
It was with reprehensible reluctance that Diana picked up her purse and her list of errands and left the shop. She had hired Nick specifically so that she could have time to herself. But now that she was free to leave, she wanted to stay. With him. What an idiot she was.
Nick took a long, shaky breath as he watched Diana leave the House of Ishtar. The business’s namesake, a pure black cat, glowered at him from her usual perch on top of a pile of books in one corner. The cat detested him. Like the shop’s owner.
He was hurt. Animals usually adored him. Women usually liked him, too. But then, nothing at the House of Ishtar was usual.
Of all the bizarre cases to get mixed up in, he thought, as he started looking through the accounts ledger. In three days he hadn’t been able to figure out if Felix Stewart was the cleverest con man in New Orleans, or just the most peculiar guy he had ever met. Diana was suspicious, hot-tempered, and openly opposed to his presence. He had seen a couple of the other job applicants his first day at the shop, and he was offended that she could find him objectionable by comparison to the competition. Which meant he had to wonder if she objected to him because she and Felix had something to hide.
This was the first moment he’d had alone to start investigating. Until now, Diana had been breathing down his neck, watching him like a hawk and making him work like a slave. When she wasn’t on his back, Felix would corner him and mumble cryptic phrases or press astrology manuals into his hands. It was taking every ounce of self-discipline he had not to tell them they were both nuts.
That wasn’t the only thing he needed self-discipline for, he realized uneasily as he browsed through the accounts. Despite her suspicious nature and quick temper, Diana Stewart was more than a little appealing. He had tried to distract her earlier, but had wound up so distracted himself that he’d momentarily forgotten his reasons for being here.
She was as supple and graceful as a cat, and she moved with the natural sensuality of a woman who enjoyed her body. That made him wonder how much he would enjoy it—if he weren’t so admirably disciplined. She was as colorful as a spring sunrise, with that strawberry-blond hair, those green eyes, that alabaster skin, and those soft, pink lips. She did have freckles, just the faintest suggestion of them across her checks, giving her a gamine look. Did she have a light dusting of freckles across her high, round breasts, too? He’d like to kiss every single freckle he could find...
“Discipline,” he reminded himself. “She’s a suspect. Like her father.”
There was nothing unusual in the accounts ledger. All expenses seemed logical, all income was accounted for. Still, he realized that Diana wasn’t careless. If she had something to hide, she wouldn’t leave it out where he could get his hands on it.
He decided he had better do some of the chores Diana had assigned to him, if he didn’t want to have trouble on his hands when she returned. He knew a plenty about electrical equipment, since security and alarm systems were part of his business. The House of Ishtar had one of the oldest electrical systems he had ever seen.
He was examining the tofu packages with a profound feeling of distaste when Mrs. Bouvier walked into the shop much later. She had changed very little since the Montreaux case. He supposed she was in her late fifties by now.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” Nick approached the front of the shop where she waited expectantly. He wondered if she would recognize him. He hoped not. They had met only briefly five years ago, and he had dressed differently and used a false name for that case.
“Why, yes, I—” She stopped speaking and raised a delicate hand to her chest. “Do you work here?”
“Yes, ma’am. Diana and Felix hired me a few days ago.”
“Well, my goodness me! It’s about time Diana got some help. She’s been workin’ much too hard.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m here for my appointment with Felix.”
This is it. “An astrology consultation?”
“Yes. Have you had a consultation with Felix yet?”
“No, there hasn’t been time.” Diana had kept him busy every moment of the day. He had seen a number of clients enter Felix’s inner sanctum, but he had yet to learn what went on in there.
“You must! Felix has changed my life. He’s put everything into perspective, helped me understand my own nature, and taught me how to deal with the problems in my life. He sees the secrets around us, in our past, our families, our work. He senses who our friends and enemies are.”
Her enthusiasm was overwhelming. Claude Bouvier was right, Nick realized. His mother was absolutely hooked. Felix didn’t need to court or marry her. He probably already had more power over her than any normal husband would have, if this effusive speech was any indication.
I need to know what goes on in that room.
“I’ll tell Felix you’re here.” He already knew better than to ask if he could sit in on the session. On Nick’s first day here, Felix had explained to him the confidential nature of his work.
Felix came out, greeted Mrs. Bouvier, led her into the study, and, as usual, firmly closed the heavy wooden door behind him. Nick paced outside, muttering with frustration. He was within a few feet of his suspect and his client’s mother. If it weren’t for the door, he could probably learn within minutes whether or not Claude Bouvier should be seriously worried about his mother’s fascination for Felix. He stopped his pacing and pressed his ear to the door, focusing every ounce of energy on trying to decipher the soft murmurs he could hear on the other side.
The clanging of the door chimes made him jump.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Diana demanded, storming into the shop.
Since she had caught him red-handed, he decided to brazen it out. “I heard such strange noises coming from inside there, but I know how Felix hates to be disturbed during a consultation. I was trying to figure out if it was serious or not.”
Diana’s green eyes narrowed as she studied him. It made her look disturbingly like her cat. After a long moment of silence, she pushed past him, knocked on the door and opened it a crack. She said something softly to Felix, then closed the door again.
“He’s meditating,” she told Nick.
“Oh. I guess I overreacted.”
She didn’t look quite convinced. Fortunately, half a dozen people sat down in the courtyard at that moment and started clamoring for tea, so he was spared a cross-examination.
Since room and board were included in his new job, he ate dinner that evening with Felix and Diana in their big apartment on the third floor.
“Eggplant casserole,” Nick said, trying to muster some enthusiasm as Diana spooned the main course onto his plate. Meals had so far consisted of whole-meal, vegetarian, macrobiotic food and equally uninspiring beverages. He was dying for a cheeseburger and a beer.
“Fresh yogurt for dessert,” Felix said eagerly.
Diana’s clover-green eyes glinted playfully. Nick felt a rush of pleasure to see her looking at him without her usual air of suspicion. “I take it you’re not a vegetarian?” she inquired.
“I wasn’t until I came here,” Nick admitted.
“Good time to start, Nick,” said Felix. “You never know whom you might wind up eating.”
Nick choked on his casserole. �
�Excuse me?”
Diana burst out laughing at the expression on his face. He looked back and forth from father to daughter. Diana appeared tolerantly amused. Felix seemed thoughtful and serious.
“It all comes back around,” Diana murmured to Nick.
“Huh?”
“Exactly,” said Felix. “Who knows how many lifetimes we must live in order to work through the issues we have chosen for ourselves? Who can say for sure how much progress and regression each individual spirit endures?”
“I certainly can’t,” said Nick.
“Exactly,” said Felix. “The cow you eat in this lifetime may have been a close friend in a past life, or may torment you in a future life because you cut short its journey in this life.”
Nick looked warily at Felix. “What about chickens?”
Diana gurgled with suppressed laughter. Felix frowned at her before saying, “All creatures possess a valuable spirit.”
“But not eggplant, apparently,” said Nick.
Felix pondered a forkful of eggplant casserole. “I’ve never heard of spiritual contact with a vegetable. I think fish may be safe to eat, too, but I can’t do it in good conscience until I receive empirical evidence.”
“Just don’t kill any spiders while you’re living here,” Diana warned Nick.
Although Felix appeared to mean every word he said, Nick couldn’t tell how sincere Diana was, since laughter had flushed her pale face and made her eyes glow. He told himself it was simply professional curiosity that made him offer to help Diana clean up the kitchen after dinner while Felix went downstairs for an evening consultation.
“Your father has some fascinating ideas,” Nick said tactfully.
Diana smiled. “I thought you were very polite.”
“Who am I to scoff?” he said equably. “Do you want to wash or dry?” Keep looking at me like that, and I won’t care if you’re cheating every society matron in all of New Orleans.
“I’ll wash.” She pulled on a pair of pink rubber gloves.
“Do you believe in reincarnation, too?” Nick picked up a dish towel.
