Zinnia

by Jayne Castle

  “You’re going to attend the charity ball?” Orrin looked shocked. “But it’s . . . it’s a club affair.”

  “And as I told you, I’m now a member.” Nick smiled thinly. “Brace yourself, Orrin, my side of the Chastain clan is going legit. In another few years no one will even remember that there was a bastard in the family tree. It’s amazing how easy it is to rewrite history. If you have the money, that is.”

  “You can’t just buy your way into respectable circles,” Orrin sputtered.

  “Watch me.”

  “Why, you . . . you—”

  Nick ignored him. He started toward the door without a backward glance. He had gone two strides when he saw Duncan Luttrell enter the bar. There was something about the way Luttrell briefly surveyed the crowd that enabled Nick to make several small connections in one portion of the matrix.

  He paused, considering the matter briefly. Then he turned and walked back to the booth were Orrin sat.

  “Thought you’d left,” Orrin muttered.

  “A word of advice, Uncle.”

  “I don’t want your damned advice.”

  Nick indicated the scotch-tini sitting on the table. “If you’re going to do a deal with Luttrell, lay off the alcohol before you start negotiating.”

  “Now what in blazes are you talking about?”

  “Luttrell may look and sound like a nice guy who just happened to get lucky in the computer business, but he didn’t build SynIce into the company it is by being a good-natured pushover. He’s smart. Very, very smart. And he’s nobody’s fool.”

  “Luttrell is a good businessman, I’ll grant you that.” Orrin’s gaze narrowed. “He is also a gentleman, unlike some people I could mention. Take your so-called advice and get out of here.”

  “Whatever you say, Uncle.” Nick turned and started back toward the door. He did not know why he had even bothered to issue the warning. Zinnia would no doubt have some silly explanation involving his so-called family values.

  Duncan smiled politely when he made to pass Nick. His eyes held cool speculation. “You’re Nick Chastain, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ve never met personally, although I’ve been into your casino once or twice. An interesting business you’ve got there.”

  “Thanks. It’s made me rich.”

  Duncan looked briefly amused by the tasteless answer. “We seem to be hearing and seeing a lot of you lately in the tabloids. I thought you liked privacy.”

  “I do,” Nick said. “But sometimes one has to make sacrifices in order to get what one wants.”

  “Very true. I understand you’re a new member here.”

  “That’s right.” Nick wondered if Duncan would make a crack about the club’s declining standards.

  “You’re seeing a friend of mine, I believe,” Duncan said instead. “Zinnia Spring.”

  Nick was stunned by the rush of fierce protectiveness and possessiveness that slammed through him. He fought down an almost irresistible urge to shove Duncan up against the nearest wall and tell him how things really were between himself and Zinnia. I’m not just seeing her, I’m having an affair with her, you son of a spider-frog. Stay away from her. I don’t want you touching her.

  Somehow he managed to keep his expression calm and controlled. “Zinnia and I are very close.”

  “Look, I’ll level with you here, Chastain. She’s a very nice lady and she’s been through a lot. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”

  “Zinnia and I understand each other.” Nick walked away before Duncan could give him the rest of the lecture. He had enough problems on his hands. He did not want to add a sense of guilt to the matrix.

  “The financial aspect? I don’t understand, Miss Spring. I thought I mentioned that the University of New Portland funded the Third Expedition.”

  Newton DeForest’s voice was as cheerful as ever on the other end of the line. Zinnia had a vision of him manicuring the tentacles of one of his grotesque plants while he spoke with her.

  “Yes, I know,” she said. “But I’m wondering about the university’s source of funds. A major expedition costs a lot. Was the Third underwritten by a wealthy donor or a corporation?”

  “I see what you mean.” DeForest sounded thoughtful. “There was very likely corporate money involved. After all, business has a lot to gain from successful exploration trips. Companies often finance expeditions. But any materials on that subject were no doubt destroyed when the records storage facility burned some thirty-four years ago. The aliens are very clever, you know. Very thorough when it comes to covering their tracks.”

  “Do you think you might have anything in your personal files? The ones you said you kept in the family crypt?”

  “Doubt it,” Newton said. “Didn’t bother much with the financial side of the story. I’ve always found money a rather dull subject. The aliens don’t use money, you know. They’ve evolved beyond the need for cash.”

  “How convenient for them,” Zinnia muttered. “Professor, I hate to put you to any more trouble, but would you mind very much just taking a look through your old files? Anything that dealt with the funding of the Third Expedition would be of great interest to me.”

  “Very well. But don’t get your hopes up, Miss Spring. Even if I did find the name of a company that contributed funds for the project, what good would the information do you?”

  “I don’t know,” Zinnia admitted.

  She hung up the phone and sat thinking for a long time.

  The larger and more complicated the mystery became, the more confusing it was. Or, as Nick would say, the more the elements in the matrix threatened to shift and realign themselves in meaningless patterns.

  And the most disturbing factor of all was her relationship with the master of the matrix.

  Chapter 20

  Duncan smiled at Zinnia as he took her into his arms on the crowded dance floor. “You look lovely tonight. I’m only sorry it was Chastain who brought you. At least he let me have one dance.”

  Zinnia chuckled. They both knew Nick had not given his permission. He had been talking with a business acquaintance when Duncan had appeared at her side and asked for the dance. She had accepted without a second’s hesitation even though she had been aware of Nick’s frown of disapproval when he saw her take the floor with Duncan.

  Start as you mean to go on, she told herself. If she was going to have an affair with an off-the-chart matrix, she had to get the rules straight at the very beginning. And the first rule was that Nick could not make all the rules. He could not control everything and everyone. He would drive them both crazy if he tried.

  Zinnia was mildly surprised to discover that she was enjoying herself tonight. It had been a long time since she had last danced. The Founders’ Club ballroom was a glittering scene. The jelly-ice chandeliers cast a warm romantic glow over the well-dressed crowd. Through the windows she could see the lights of the city sparkling below on the dark carpet of the night.

  She had panicked briefly when she had found herself faced with the problem of coming up with an appropriate dress but Gracie Proud, Clementine’s permanent partner, had come to the rescue. Gracie knew fashion almost as well as she knew the focus business. She had sent Zinnia to one of her favorite boutiques.

  The long, elegantly simple slip of a dress that Zinnia had discovered in the shop was the color of rare fire 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 SyncIce 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 SyncIce. 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, Synsation 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 SyncIce, 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 waist. “And I don’t think that you would have gone down on your knees to anyone. Not even to save Spring Industries.”

  Zinnia raised her brows. “Did your aunt actually beg?”

  “No, not exactly.” Nick exhaled deeply. “You could say she stated her demands in no uncertain terms.”

  “I’m sure it took courage for her to approach you. She probably expected you to laugh in her face.”

  “You don’t know my Aunt Ella.” Nick steered her through the crowd of dancers with negligent grace. “She expected me to whip out my checkbook then and there.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Smiled very politely and came over here to pry you out of Luttrell’s arms.”

  “Smiled very politely?” She frowned. “I don’t believe that for one moment. You never smile politely. Nick, I really think that you ought
to think very carefully about this situation before you make any rash decisions.”

  “Don’t,” he warned gently, “try to tell me how to deal with the Chastains.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Damn.” He had the grace to look chagrined. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  “Maybe we should both just shut up and dance.”

  “Good idea.” He swung her into another slow turn.

  Zinnia gave herself over to the music and the many sensory pleasures to be derived from the experience of dancing with a matrix. Nick’s instinctive sense of timing and distances meant that they never accidentally bumped into other couples or had to change direction in a hasty awkward manner. When viewed from above the movements on a large ballroom floor always appeared random to her, but she knew that Nick had a feeling for the underlying pattern. The result was a smooth graceful trip around the room.

  When the music came to an end, he seemed reluctant to let her leave his arms. He halted at the edge of the crowd and looked at her with intense eyes. “I think we’ve made our statement for the evening. Everyone here knows that we’re a couple. Let’s go home.”

  She felt herself grow warm in direct response to the blatant sexual desire that emanated from him. “Do you know, I used to think you were the subtle type.”

  “I don’t know where you got that idea.” He took her arm and started toward the nearest of the long row of double doors that lined one side of the ballroom.

  Zinnia noticed a few heads turn to follow their progress toward the lobby. She had been aware of several discreet stares since Nick had escorted her into the ball but no one had actually said anything nasty in her range of hearing.

  There were several small conversational groups clustered in the lobby. One or two people who had been friends of Zinnia’s parents noticed her and nodded politely. She could see the speculation in their gazes when their attention shifted to Nick.

  Nick did not appear to be aware of the attention they received as they crossed the lobby. He guided her toward the cloak room with the cool arrogance that seemed to be built into him.