by Jayne Castle
“The crew put up some amber lanterns. Don’t worry, I can make it to one of the other tents.”
She eased aside the top sheet of the silk bag. “I don’t want you to leave, Adam. I may not be able to go back to sleep, but I don’t mind. I’d rather spend what’s left of the night with you.”
“That’s good to know, because I want to spend the night with you, too.”
She heard more rustling in the darkness and watched his energy patterns with her other senses. In the glow of dreamlight, she saw him sit up on the edge of the cot. The camp beds were only inches apart.
He lowered himself down on top of her with exquisite care. The cot squeaked in protest, but it did not collapse.
Marlowe wrapped her arms around him and discovered that he had taken off his shirt but not his trousers. His skin was enticingly warm to the touch.
“Adam.”
“Hush.” He smothered a choked laugh that was half groan against her mouth. “Sound carries in the jungle, especially at night. There are other people sleeping out there.”
“Right, sorry.” She kissed his mouth, his jaw, his throat, inhaling his scent. “I’ll try to remember.”
He stifled another groan and gently nipped her ear. “You might have to remind me from time to time, too.”
They fumbled with each other’s clothes. Adam got her shirt open. The next thing she knew, his mouth was on her breasts. When he tugged gently on one nipple, she felt the currents of fire all the way to the center of her being. In a matter of a few heartbeats, she was tightly clenched and wet with need.
She managed to unfasten his belt and then his trousers. When she got her hand inside his briefs, she found him thick and rigid.
He unzipped her pants and shoved them down over her thighs to her ankles. She struggled impatiently to wriggle free of the garment. With each twist and turn of her body beneath his own, she sensed Adam getting hotter. His sleekly muscled back grew damp beneath her fingers.
He managed to get himself out of his own trousers and briefs. She heard a soft, muffled plop when the clothes dropped to the floor of the tent. He came back to her. She opened herself for him, wrapping him close.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered hoarsely.
He slipped his fingers into her, pressing deliberately upward. She tightened around him. He used his thumb to work the taut bundle of nerve endings.
She gasped, bit back a cry, and sank her nails into his shoulders. As if that was the signal he had been waiting for, he shifted position and thrust heavily into her.
The force of their union pulsed and crashed invisibly in the atmosphere. It seemed to her that their auras fused briefly in a moment of shattering intimacy.
She got tighter and hotter, and then her climax was sweeping through her in small convulsive waves. In the midst of the dazzling release, she realized she could not catch her breath. It took her another second to comprehend that the reason she was having trouble breathing was because Adam had covered her mouth with his own to silence her. Only then did she realize that she must have cried out.
The muscles of his back were quartz-hard. He tore his mouth away from hers. She heard the beginnings of a long, low, howl of triumph and satisfaction deep in his throat. Hastily she clapped a hand over his lips.
His climax seemed to go on forever; he surged into her, emptying himself. When it was over, he collapsed, sprawling on top of her. She laughed a little, tears in her eyes, and held him close and snug against her.
THE RAIN HAD STOPPED. HE DECIDED THAT WAS WHAT had awakened him. His internal clock told him that dawn was arriving in the jungle. He shifted a little and realized that he was tangled up in a silk sheet and Marlowe’s silken body. For a moment he kept very still, not wanting to shatter the magic by tumbling off the side of the very narrow cot that he and Marlowe shared. It felt so good to be locked close to her like this.
He opened his eyes and saw that she was sound asleep. With him.
Satisfaction swept through him, as intense as the sexual release during the night.
A scratching sound and a soft chortle on the other side of the tent flap distracted him. He tried to gently disengage from Marlowe’s warm body, but in spite of his care she stirred, yawned, and opened her eyes.
She looked straight at him with a dazed, faintly bewildered expression, as if finding him this close, his face only inches from her own, was the very last thing she had expected. It probably was. He watched with a sense of triumph as understanding lit her eyes.
“Adam?”
He smiled. “That would be me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Try. Try real hard.”
She frowned. “I went back to sleep after we had sex.”
“You went back to sleep after we made love,” he corrected very deliberately. “We both went back to sleep, as a matter of fact. I just woke up, myself.”
“Hmm. Well, this is certainly very weird.”
“You slept with me,” he said. “We slept together. Get over it.”
“Maybe it’s the heavy psi levels here in the jungle,” she said, frowning a little. “Perhaps they affect the way I pick up dreamlight when I’m sleeping.”
“And maybe you were actually able to sleep with me.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve never been able to sleep with a man. There must be some explanation. The energy in that maze, maybe.”
He brushed his mouth lightly against hers. “I think we’re going to need to conduct a few tests when we get back to the surface.”
She blinked again. “But if it’s true, what does it mean?”
“It means you can sleep with me. I suggest you don’t try to complicate things here, Marlowe. You know what trained detectives always say.”
“No, what do they say?”
“The simplest explanation is usually the right explanation.”
“But this isn’t simple.”
The scratching noise sounded again. This time it was accompanied by another muffled chortle.
Marlowe glanced toward the sealed opening of the tent. “That’s Gibson.”
“Our little hunter is home,” Adam said. “I’d better let him in before he decides to chew through the tent flap.”
He pushed aside the silk sheeting, sat up, and reached for his briefs and trousers. He pulled on the clothes and got cautiously to his feet, careful to keep his head down so as not to hit the top of the tent.
He unsealed the flap. Gibson chattered cheerfully. He had half an energy bar in one paw. He tumbled into the tent and fluttered up onto the cot to greet Marlowe. She smiled and patted him affectionately.
“Something tells me it’s better if I don’t know exactly what you were doing out there in the jungle all night,” she said. “By the way, where did you get that energy bar?”
Through the tent opening Adam watched Liz and one of the female Arcane technicians emerge from a nearby tent. They were dressed for the day, chatting in low tones with each other. They both turned to look toward the tent that he and Marlowe shared, smiling a little, speculation sparkling in their amused expressions. When they saw him, they blushed, embarrassed at having been caught checking out the boss’s sleeping arrangements.
He lifted a hand in a casual salute. “Good morning, ladies.”
“ Morning, sir,” Liz stammered. “Jill and I are in charge of breakfast this morning. Coffee and scrambled eggs will be ready in a few.”
“Sounds good,” he said.
The women hurried off toward the kitchen tent. He let the flap fall back into place and turned to look at Marlowe, who was pulling a fresh shirt out of her pack.
Her brows rose. “What? Something wrong down at the maze?”
“Nope, no problem in the maze that I know of.” He cleared his throat. “Remember what I said about sound carrying in the jungle at night? I think that might have happened last night.”
“Sound carried?”
“From this tent.”
“Ack.” She made
a face but looked resigned. “Well, I suppose it was inevitable. Even if there hadn’t been any, uh, sound transmission, everyone knows we spent the night together in this very small space.”
“They do know that, yes.”
“Relax, we’ve got the world’s best cover story.”
“That would be the cover story that implies that you and I are involved in an affair?” he asked neutrally.
“That one.” She grimaced. “Still, it is sort of embarrassing, though.”
“What is embarrassing? Everyone thinking that a respectable member of the Jones family is having an affair with a Guild boss?”
“No.” She shot him a quelling glare. “That was not what I meant. I was referring to the sound transmission in the jungle issue.”
He grabbed his pack, opened it, and yanked out a T-shirt. “Look, I’m sorry about this, Marlowe, but given all that’s been going on lately, you have to admit that in the grand scheme of things, it really isn’t important.”
“Not important? You’re saying our relationship isn’t important?”
“Damn it, you know I didn’t mean it that way,” he said. “Are you saying we have a relationship?”
“What would you call it?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “You’re the one who keeps saying we’re partners.”
“We are partners.” She paused. “Sort of.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, the basis for our partnership disappeared yesterday when we reestablished the rhythms in that maze.”
She got to her feet. “Why are we arguing like this?”
“Beats the hell out of me, partner.”
She stepped around the corner of the cot and went into his arms.
“Adam, this is ridiculous,” she said against his chest.
“I agree.” He smiled into her hair. “So, does this mean that you’ll be my date for the reception on Friday night?”
“What reception?”
“The official welcome reception for the new boss of the Frequency Guild.”
“Oh, that reception,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.
“Just think. Our first real date.”
He caught her chin on the edge of his hand and started to raise her mouth for a kiss.
An outraged screech from somewhere outside the tent stopped him cold.
Marlowe stepped back quickly. “What in the world?”
“I think it came from the direction of the kitchen tent,” Adam said.
He released her to raise the flap. He saw Liz and Jill standing in the center of the small compound, hands planted on their hips, grim expressions on their faces.
Heads popped out of the neighboring tents.
“What’s wrong?” a tech asked.
“We’ve been raided,” Jill announced. “The food is gone.”
“All of it?” Dr. Nyland asked, perplexed.
“Eggs, fruit juice, biscuit mix, sausages, jam,” Jill said. “And that’s just the breakfast stuff. You can forget lunch and dinner, as well. They ripped off almost three days’ worth of supplies. There isn’t even a single energy bar left. We’re all going to be foraging in the rain forest this morning.”
“The only thing they didn’t take was the coffee,” Jill said. “Probably because the cans were too heavy for the little suckers to cart off into the jungle.”
“What little suckers?” Nyland asked.
“Dust bunnies,” Jill said. “Saw the last one scurrying out through the hole in the tent just as we got there.”
“Uh-oh,” Marlowe said.
Adam noticed that she was looking at Gibson, who was sitting on the cot, polishing off the energy bar.
“I think I know what you were doing last night,” Marlowe said to Gibson. “And here I thought you were boldly hunting wild game and having torrid sex in the rain forest, doing the nature in the raw thing.”
Gibson chortled and ate the last of the energy bar.
“Why hunt when you can round up a bunch of your buddies and raid the humans’ kitchen tent?” Adam asked.
“What about the torrid sex in the jungle part?” Marlowe said.
“As I recall, we were the ones doing that.”
Chapter 32
SHE GOT BACK INTO HER OFFICE THE FOLLOWING DAY shortly before noon. Rick grabbed the two newspapers on his desk and held them up so that she could see the headlines.
“You’re famous again, boss,” he said. “Nice work. This is going to be so good for business.”
Gibson chortled a greeting, leaped nimbly out of Marlowe’s leather pack, and hopped up onto the desk.
“You’re famous, too, biker dude,” Rick said. He showed Gibson the copy of the Examiner. “See? That’s you sitting on the big Guild man’s shoulder.”
Gibson displayed no interest in the picture. He sidled across the desk to the locked cookie jar and assumed a hopeful air. Rick put down the papers and went to work opening the jar.
“Help yourself, dude,” Rick said. He raised the lid with a flourish. “You deserve it. You’re one of the heroes of the hour.”
Marlowe peeled off her leather jacket and hung it on a hook. She went to the desk and glanced down at the headlines. The picture on the front of the Examiner had been taken just as she and Adam emerged from the rain forest through the main gate.
They had walked out to find a large crowd of reporters, bloggers, curiosity seekers, and city officials waiting for them. Marlowe knew that was no accident. Adam had cold-bloodedly plotted the entire media frenzy before they had left the camp. He had sent a small group of lab techs up to the surface first to contact the Chamber and tell them what had happened. The Chamber’s press office had taken over from there. The Frequency Guild desperately needed a public image makeover, and the story of what had happened in the rain forest was perfect.
The headline in the sober, sedate, ever-so-serious Amber Intelligencer was a publicist’s dream.
DISASTER AVERTED BY NEW GUILD CEO
AND LOCAL PI
Authorities Say Explosion in Alien Ruins Would Have Been Devastating Aboveground as Well as Below
The headline in the Examiner took a slightly different slant on the news.
GUILD BOSS AND MISTRESS
SAVE THE UNDERWORLD
“Oh, geez,” Marlowe said. She tossed the Examiner down onto the desk. “Somehow I don’t really think that being labeled the new boss’s mistress is going to bring J&J a lot of business.”
“Wait and see.” Rick looked knowing. “I’m telling you, J&J is going to be the hottest psychic private investigation agency in town.”
“Meanwhile, I should get back to work on the few cases we’ve actually got. Where’s the museum theft file?”
“On your desk,” Rick said. “Let’s talk about the important stuff first, though. What are you wearing to the big Guild affair tonight?”
“Gee, I dunno. I’m thinking maybe my leather jacket, chaps, and boots.”
“The dominatrix look is classic, of course,” Rick said. “But in this particular instance, you’ll be representing Jones & Jones. I feel that you should go with something a bit more elegant.”
“I’ll have to see what I’ve got in the back of the closet.”
SHORTLY AFTER THREE O’CLOCK THAT AFTERNOON, the phone rang again for what had to have been the hundredth time. Marlowe ignored it to concentrate on the file she was reading. The door to the reception area was open, however, so she heard Rick repeat the message he had delivered dozens of times that day.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Jones is not giving interviews to the media. I have been instructed to refer all calls of this nature to the public relations office of the Frequency Guild. Yes, Miss Jones will be attending the reception for the new CEO of the Guild this evening.”
Rick ended the call. The phone rang again almost immediately.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but Miss Jones is not available to appear on your program.”
Marlowe tuned out the conversation
and finished the file. When she was done, she closed the folder and sat quietly for a while, thinking. It was at times like this, she decided, that Uncle Zeke would have opened the bottom drawer of the desk and taken out the bottle of Alien Ruin whiskey that he had always kept there. He claimed it helped him focus his talent.
She looked at Gibson, who was dozing on the cushion of the client chair. He was stretched out flat on his back, all six paws in the air.
“What do you say we go for a ride, pal?”
Gibson’s blue eyes popped open. In one neat little twist, he was on his feet, chortling enthusiastically. Marlowe rose, went around the desk, and scooped him up.
She went out into the small reception area. Rick was just ending another call.
“I’m going to be gone for an hour or so,” she told him. “If I’m not back by five, go ahead and close up.”
He looked up, squinting a little through the stylish glasses. “Something wrong, boss?”
“I want to take another look at a crime scene.”
“Which one?”
“The museum theft. I went back over the file. There’s something that bothers me.”
“Still worried because everyone except Dr. Lewis has a mag-steel alibi?”
“It’s Dr. Lewis’s dreamprints at the scene that bother me. I’m going to take another look at them.”
“Fine, but it’s after four. You need to allow plenty of time to get dressed. All eyes will be on the new Guild boss and the lady who helped him save the underworld tonight.”
“Oddly enough, the reception is not the kind of appointment a person tends to forget. Right up there with going to the dentist.”
“Hah. It’s one of the most glamorous events of the season, and you and Adam Winters will be the center of attention. You should be thrilled.”
“I’ll do my best.” She took her leather jacket and helmet off the wall hooks and headed toward the door with Gibson tucked under her arm.
“Remember, you’re going for elegant, boss.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
She opened the door and went out into the late-afternoon light. She plopped Gibson into the saddlebag, settled the helmet on her head, pulled on her gloves, and got on board Dream.
