Orchid sh-3

by Джейн Энн Кренц

  "I insist."

  "Very well, then, if that's the way you feel about it." She got to her feet and picked up the empty toast dish. "I certainly can't force you to allow me to assist you."

  "I'm glad you understand that." Rafe's expression gentled. "I promise I'll keep you informed of my progress."

  She paused at the doorway of the breakfast room and nodded. "Thank you. That would be extremely helpful."

  "Helpful?"

  "Yes. I haven't had a lot of experience with this kind of thing and I'll probably need all the scraps of information you condescend to toss my way."

  "Scraps?"

  "If you're really nice to me, I'll return the favor. I'll let you know what I find out, too."

  Rafe surged to his feet. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "I thought I'd made myself clear. I'm going to continue the investigation." She walked into the kitchen. "With or without your help."

  "Come back here, damn it."

  Orchid allowed the kitchen door to swing closed behind her.

  It slammed open again just as she set the dishes in the sink. Rafe loomed in the entrance.

  "You wouldn't dare," he said.

  "You don't know me very well, do you?" She rinsed the toast dish and reached for a towel. "I've made up my mind. Obviously, I'd rather have you as a partner because you know a lot more about investigative work than I do. But since you insist on firing me, I'll just have to go it alone."

  He took a step toward her. "This is blackmail."

  "Well, I suppose if you want to get technical about it—"

  He planted his hands on his hips. "I don't like being manipulated."

  "I'm negotiating, not manipulating. As a businessman, you should know the difference."

  "Orchid, if you think you can get away with this—"

  "Don't you dare threaten me. You're the one who hired me under false pretenses." She flung the towel aside. "But I'm prepared to overlook that if you'll take me on as a full partner."

  "And if I don't you'll start messing around in this thing on your own, is that it?"

  "You got it." She stretched her arms out on each side and grasped the edge of the counter with both hands. "What do you say? Have we got a deal?"

  Rafe did not reply. He gazed at her for a long moment.

  Orchid felt the stirring of his talent. The hair on the back of her neck lifted. The hunted sensation flitted across her nerves.

  "Try that again and I'll treat you to a real surprise the next time you focus with me," she said.

  "What makes you think I'll ever focus with you again?"

  "How can you resist? I'm the best prism you've ever had. Admit it."

  He stalked across the kitchen and pinned her against the counter. "You're right." His eyes gleamed as he cradled her face between his hands. "You are the best prism I've ever had."

  The blatant, predatory sexuality in his eyes sent a shiver through her.

  "You were pretty good, yourself," she managed.

  "I love it when you talk dirty. You know something? I think you're going to drive me crazy before this is all over."

  "The feeling is mutual."

  "Should be interesting, if nothing else." The hunted sensation faded but the glitter in Rafe's eyes did not. "So you want to be partners?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay, partner, I need a date for tomorrow night. The least you can do is help me out."

  She touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth. Every instinct she possessed was on full alert. "A date?"

  "For my grandfather's birthday party."

  Orchid relaxed slightly. "Oh, a birthday party."

  "Don't get the wrong idea here. We're not talking a cake and some jelly-ice candles. Alfred G.'s party is a very big deal. Every member of the family will be there, including cousin Selby. Also, every politician in the city-state who wants a campaign contribution will attend. As will most of Stonebraker's business associates and a sizable portion of the membership of the Founders' Club."

  "And you can't get a real date for a major social event like that?"

  "You're real enough." He bent his head. His mouth hovered an inch above hers.

  "Okay, partner. I'll go as your date. But only if you agree to do the same favor for me."

  His eyes darkened. "You need a date?"

  "In five days' time. For a family wedding in Northville."

  "Deal." His mouth closed over hers.

  She felt the fierce, prowling, hungry passion in him. It was as strong as it had been last night, but this morning it was all mixed up with anger, seething frustration, and some other emotions she could not name.

  But she knew that she had won. They were partners now. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back, just as fiercely.

  Two hours later, after taking his new partner back to her apartment, Rafe stalked back into his own house. He went immediately into his study, grabbed the phone, and punched out Hobart Batt's number.

  Hobart came on the line at once, sounding anxious. "Good morning, Mr. Stonebraker. I realize you're calling to check on progress. Unfortunately I still have not been able to come up with a good match. But rest assured, I'm working on the problem."

  "You told me that through the matchmakers' multiple listing service Synergistic Connections had access to the files of everyone who is currently registered in New Seattle."

  "We do. Believe me, Mr. Stonebraker, I've checked the MLS listings several times. I've also thoroughly checked the computer files of our offices in New Vancouver and New Portland. I regret to inform you—"

  "Have you heard of a marriage agency called Affinity Associates?"

  "Affinity?" A note of alarm entered Hobart's voice. "Yes. It's located here in New Seattle. But it's a very small operation, Mr. Stonebraker. If you're thinking of switching your registration to Affinity, I must warn you that, even though they have access to the MLS, they lack the resources and extensive expertise of a large agency such as ours."

  "Listen, Batt—"

  "Given your rather extraordinary paranormal profile, I feel that we are far better equipped to handle you."

  Rafe hung on to his patience with an effort. "I'm not talking about moving my account to Affinity. I want you to check with them about one of their clients, Miss Orchid Adams. She registered with Affinity a little over a year ago."

  "I see. In that case, I'm sure she would be in the multiple listing service. If you're thinking that we might have somehow overlooked her as a potential match for you, I can assure you—"

  "She's got a very unusual paranormal profile. It's possible that Affinity did not properly assess her." Rafe paused deliberately. "Lacking the resources and expertise of a big firm such as Synergistic Connections and all, maybe they just screwed up her whole damn registration."

  Hobart heaved a stoic sigh. "I'll look into it, sir."

  "You do that, Batt. Or I will start thinking about switching my registration to another agency." Rafe tossed the phone back into its cradle.

  He leaned back in his chair and stared at the darkened screen of his computer. The silence of the big house settled around him.

  He had set out to hunt himself a wife and he had found the one he wanted. He could not believe that they were not a good match. Affinity Associates had fouled up the registration. It was the only possible answer.

  In the meantime, he had other problems. He picked up the phone again and dialed Dr. Quentin Austen's office number. The receptionist sounded bored. He could hear the occasional snap of her gum.

  "I'm sorry, Dr. Austen is not available. If this is an emergency, I can recommend another syn-psych doctor."

  "I don't want a professional consultation. This is a business matter."

  Gum snapped loudly. "What kind of business?"

  "Tell Dr. Austen that it concerns one of his recent investments."

  He hung up the phone before the receptionist could ask any more questions. He was satisfied that Quentin Austen would call soo
n. He had discovered long ago that people tended to return phone calls that involved money.

  That thought reminded him that he still had a business to run. He reached out, switched on the computer, and settled down to brood over the Synergy Fund's extensive stock market portfolio.

  The technology sector was doing well, but it was time to unload some of the fund's retail stocks. He could sense a coming shift in the market. The dip would be minor, but he did not want to be caught in it.

  Chapter 10

  At ten o'clock the following evening Orchid allowed Rafe to lead her out onto one of many terraces that surrounded Stonebraker House. She took a deep breath of the scented air and popped a flaky little pastry stuffed with spiced crabster into her mouth. It was her third in ten minutes.

  She had discovered the pastries a short while ago after having worked her way through a buffet table filled with exquisitely prepared hors d'oeuvres. At first she had worried that she did not have any room left for the spicy crab-ster tidbits, but she had managed, with a serious effort of willpower, to find space.

  All in all, Orchid was surprised to discover that she felt right at home at Alfred G. Stonebraker's birthday party. It was not all that different from the faculty receptions her parents used to drag her to back in Northville. She sensed the same subtle, behind-the-scenes maneuvering, the same political machinations, and the same family tensions hovering just beneath the surface.

  The biggest difference here was that almost no one wore white.

  The glass-walled room behind her was filled with elegantly dressed men and women who sipped expensive blue champagne while they discussed social gossip, business, and fashionable gallery openings. The strains of a tango-waltz played gently in the background. Down below the terrace a series of artfully arranged colored lanterns had turned the expansive gardens into a shadow-filled wonderland.

  She glanced at Rafe. He was a solid shadow beside her. She had to admit that the man looked incredibly sexy in his formal black evening clothes. The austere style emphasized the aura of quiet power, both physical and paranormal, that was so much a part of him. The light from a jelly-ice lantern gleamed on his near-black hair and highlighted the fascinating sweep of his cheekbones. His eyes gleamed with the lazily watchful, enigmatic expression that betrayed the depths of his strat-talent nature.

  His mouth quirked as he watched her munch the stuffed pastry. "Having a good time?"

  "Food's great. And I like your parents. Remind me a little of my own. It's easy to see why they both wound up in the academic world. I can't envision your father working in a corporate environment."

  "My father is a strong math-talent. I'm told that it was obvious from the start that he was not cut out to take over Stonebraker. That was why my grandfather put the pressure on me."

  Orchid nodded. She had been introduced to Sarah and Glen Stonebraker shortly after they had arrived. They were a striking couple who wore the mantle of their education and intelligence with unselfconscious patrician ease, just as her own parents did. They had clearly been surprised by Orchid, but they had both been gracious and charming. There had been a lot of thoughtful speculation and even some relief in their eyes, but neither had been so rude as to grill their son's "agency date."

  "You look much more like your grandfather than you do your father," Orchid remarked.

  "I told you, the family considers me a throwback," Rafe said. "In more ways than one."

  "I wish you wouldn't use that word."

  "Throwback? Why not? Everyone else does." He put one foot on the terrace and leaned forward to rest his forearm on his thigh. "It's not entirely inaccurate. My grandfather and I are alike in a lot of ways. That's why we couldn't work together."

  "Rafe, get real. You couldn't take orders from anyone, let alone your grandfather."

  "That's the damn truth," said a deep, gravely voice from the direction of the open door behind Rafe. "Boy was as hard-headed, independent, and stubborn as an ox-mule from the day he was born. Always had to do things his way."

  "Hello, Al." Rafe took his foot down off the low terrace wall and turned to look at his grandfather. "Enjoying your birthday party?"

  "What's to enjoy?" Alfred G. strolled toward them. "So far I've been hit up for campaign contributions by three different Founders' Values party candidates. Your grandmother tells me I've got to dance the tango-waltz with her at midnight and Selby is acting like he already runs Stonebraker."

  "Just another typical birthday party celebration for you," Rafe said.

  Alfred G. narrowed his eyes in a calculating expression that reminded Orchid of his grandson. "Why don't you go mingle or something, Rafe? Give me a chance to get to know your friend, Orchid, here."

  An extremely cautious expression crossed Rafe's face. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to leave you alone with Orchid."

  Alfred G.'s perfect white teeth flashed in a charmingly dangerous smile. "She's not afraid of me, are you, Orchid?"

  "Of course not, Mr. Stonebraker," Orchid said politely.

  "There, you see?" Alfred G. beamed triumphantly at Rafe. "Run along. Let me have a little chat with your agency date."

  Rafe looked at Orchid, brows raised in silent inquiry. When Orchid nodded in equally silent agreement, he gave an "on your head be it" shrug and started toward the door.

  "Good luck," he said as he walked past his grandfather. "But don't come whining to me if the little chat doesn't turn out quite the way you expect."

  Fifteen minutes later Rafe noticed that neither Alfred G. nor Orchid had come in from the terrace. A trickle of unease slithered across his nerve endings. He broke off a conversation with a sixteen-year-old cousin who yearned to go to the Western Islands. Turning, he made his way back through the crowd to the open glass doors.

  Alfred G.'s voice boomed out of the shadows.

  "What the hell do you mean, you're going to vote for Christine Bellows? She'll run this city-state straight into the ground with her tax-and-spend ways. Daria Gardener is the woman for the job."

  "Gardener is a Founders' Values candidate," Orchid said crisply. "I wouldn't vote for her if she was the last politician on St. Helens."

  "Anyone who doesn't vote a straight Founders' Values ticket is an idiot and a radical to boot."

  "Anyone who votes only for Founders' Values candidates is a narrow-minded, hidebound, short-sighted traditionalist."

  "What's wrong with being a traditionalist?" Alfred G. roared. "This planet was colonized by traditionalists."

  "We can't go back to the time of the first generation Founders, no matter how much some folks would like to return to the good old days of no jelly-ice and no paranormal abilities. We have to move forward. It's the only path for a civilization that intends to survive. And that means we have to think about the future, not the past."

  "Now, you listen to me, young woman. I've had a lot more experience in the real world than you have and I'm here to tell you—"

  Rafe winced and moved swiftly away from the door. He had no inclination whatsoever to go out onto the terrace.

  When he turned to retreat back into the crowd, he found Selby blocking his path.

  "Hello, cousin." Selby's blue eyes were calculating behind the lenses of his glasses. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here tonight. This is the first Alfred G. birthday party you've attended since you left for the Western Islands."

  Rafe eyed him thoughtfully. He and Selby were less than a year apart in age but Selby had always been a little taller and more heavily built. His light brown hair was cut by an expensive stylist at one of the city's most exclusive salons. He had the pleasant, open, rugged features that characterized the males on the Culverthorpe side of the family.

  Selby had the sort of face that made people want to trust him within five seconds of meeting him. Sometimes it seemed to Rafe that he and his grandfather were the only ones who ever noticed the razor-sharp glint of vengeful bitterness in Selby's eyes.

  It was not the sort of observation one could make al
oud to others, Rafe reflected. He knew exactly what would happen if he told the rest of the family or the Stonebraker Board that loyal, hardworking cousin Selby was bent on destroying the company. If he tried, Rafe knew that he would probably get a stern lecture warning him not to let his primitive strat-talent nature influence his common sense and family bonds. Selby, unlike certain other ungrateful members of the clan, had devoted his entire career to Stonebraker.

  "Hello, Selby."

  Selby cast an ironic glance toward the terrace. "Is Uncle Al terrorizing your date?"

  "My date can take care of herself."

  Selby chuckled, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "You must be picking tough ones these days."

  He had never liked Selby, Rafe reflected. Not even when they had been young playmates together. Selby was a tech-talent. He had been the kind of kid who could construct a miniature catapult with the new erector set he had received for Christmas before Rafe could figure out what insert part A into slot B meant. And then, after Rafe had finally succeeded in building a small, rather shaky fort with his own erector set, Selby had used his catapult to knock down the walls.

  Things had not improved when they got to high school where Selby had always outshone Rafe in math and science. Underneath the uneven rivalry had been a simmering resentment on Selby's part. Rafe had not understood why his cousin disliked him so much until his parents told him what had happened to Selby's father. By then it was too late to mend the breach. In any event, Rafe had already made plans to head for the Western Islands. He and Selby had seen almost nothing of each other in the intervening years.

  Selby swirled the vintage blue champagne in his glass and cast a speculative eye toward the door. "You don't seem overly concerned about defending your companion."

  "When did you develop such a keen interest in my private life, Selby?"

  "The whole family has an interest in your private life. Especially since you surprised everyone by showing up here tonight with an agency date in tow."

  Rafe did not bother to correct the small misunderstanding. He wanted everyone to believe that Orchid was from a marriage agency, not a focus agency. "Why does that come as such a big surprise?"