CardsNeverLie

by Heather Hiestand

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Cards Never Lie

  ISBN 9781419908125

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Cards Never Lie Copyright© 2007 Heather Hiestand

  Edited by Helen Woodall.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication: March 2007

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing Inc., 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Cards Never Lie

  Heather Hiestand

  Dedication

  For my father, David, who gave me my first Tarot cards (little did he know!), and for my mother, Mary Jo. Thank you for sharing your love of books and always encouraging my writing.

  For Leander, of course

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Aquafina: Pepsico, Inc.

  Barbie and Ken: Mattel, Inc.

  Ben & Jerry’s chocolate fudge brownie ice cream: Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Holdings, Inc.

  BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke Aktiengesellschaft

  Bond: Danjaq S.A. Corporation

  Budweiser: Anheuser-Busch, Incorporated

  Chunky Monkey: Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Holdings, Inc.

  Debbie Does Dallas: Arrow Productions, Ltd.

  Deep Throat: Arrow Productions, Ltd.

  Elvira: P. & P. Productions, Inc.

  Elvis: Elvis Presley Enterprises, Inc.

  Florsheims: Florsheim Group Inc.

  Haagen-Daz: Haagen-Daz Brands, Inc.

  Hallmark: Hallmark Licensing, Inc.

  Jacuzzi: Jacuzzi Inc.

  KMPS: EZ Seattle, Inc.

  Lara Croft: Core Design Limited

  Lexus: Toyota Motor Corporation

  Marilyn Monroe: Marilyn Monroe LLC LTD Liab Co

  Marlboro: Phillip Morris USA Inc.

  McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation

  Mylar: E. I. Du Pont De Nemours and Company

  NASCAR: National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing, Inc.

  Nordstrom: Nordstrom, Inc.

  Porsche: Dr. Ing. h. c. f. Porsche Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

  Safeway: Safeway Inc.

  Starbucks: Starbucks U.S. Brands

  The Beatles: Apple Corps Limited

  Tupac Shakur: Amaru Entertainment, Inc.

  Twinkies: Continental Baking Company

  Victoria’s Secret: V Secret Catalogue, Inc.

  Wonderbra: Canadelle, Inc.

  Chapter One

  Melanie Vanderpool stroked her fingers across the tarot cards stacked before her.

  Madame Lois nodded, her rainbow-colored earrings tinkling with the motion. “Offer your question to the cards, my dear.”

  Melanie forced herself to stop fidgeting in the metal fold-up chair. This little store alcove tucked away on funky Roosevelt Avenue was a great place to start her new wild life, right? Okay, cards, come on, show me this soul mate Mom always promised was coming my way.

  She removed her fingers from the cards. Across from her, Madame Lois took a deep, theatrical breath and pulled off the top six cards. She spread them into a circle facing her on the hot pink silk scarf covering a fold-up card table and studied the spread for a very long moment, saying nothing.

  “What is it?” Melanie attempted to view the cards upside down. Her voice rose in a squeak as she noticed a card with a large horned figure and smaller, chained and horned figures below. “The devil? What does that mean?” She wanted the wild side, not the dark side!

  The psychic took another deep breath, this one not so theatrical. “The Devil is your soul mate.”

  Melanie sat back in her chair, clutching the seat with suddenly cold hands. “Ha ha. Very funny. How do I get my money back?”

  Madame Lois blinked slowly in a convincing imitation of a wise owl. “The Devil card can mean many things. Your soul mate might turn your life in an entirely new direction.”

  “Oh is that all?” Melanie breathed a sigh of relief. She let go of the chair and moved her hands to her lap. Perfect! With her career in an upswing thanks to her promotion, she had time to shake up her personal life.

  “Of course,” Madame Lois continued, “he will be temptation incarnate. He may be a bit perverse sexually, use force wrongly and could have no regard for humanity.”

  Melanie tried and failed to picture herself in a clinch with Genghis Khan or Henry VIII. “Tell me, Madame Lois.” She leaned forward. “Do you see time travel in there too? Because we’re not living in the Middle Ages. Seattle guys aren’t nearly that interesting.”

  Madame Lois shrugged. “The cards are mysterious. I suggest you take careful note of any dark-haired men. You’ll probably meet him when you need assistance with your professional life. Passions will be strong between the two of you, so be careful. You may love or,” she paused, “you may hate.”

  “I think I’d rather hate a guy like that,” Melanie said. She was tired of hating men. Surely not all men were as slimy as her ex-husband. She missed intimate deep voices that left you quivering. She missed sex!

  “Perhaps in this life. You didn’t ask me whom you were going to date in the next six months.” Madame Lois’ earrings jingled as she gathered up the six cards.

  Melanie stood. Did the psychic have a sense of humor? “Thanks so much for this enlightenment. I’ll be sure to recommend you to all my friends.”

  “Sometimes it is difficult to accept what the cards tell us. But we are in control of our own destiny. You should not forget that.” Madame Lois’ gaze on her was sardonic, making Melanie wonder what else she had seen in those cards.

  “Right, my destiny.” Melanie smiled blandly. As she reentered Blithe Books & Baubles through silvery Mylar curtains, she checked her watch. She had twenty minutes until she met Jill, her assistant. Melanie squared her shoulders. What was Madame Lois not telling her?

  Melanie marched past shelves of crystals and yoga mats, then noticed a line of Wicked Oil massage oils guaranteed to match your horoscope. A great idea and one she wished Professional Massage, the massage goods company she worked for, had invented. When she found the tarot section she grabbed the first book at eye level and turned to the description of the Devil card. Her eyes widened. Bondage? Black magic? This soul mate business was even crazier than Madame Lois had led her to believe! Melanie shook her head and shoved the book back into its spot on the shelf.

  She pushed through the doors of the New Age shop and walked around the block as the reading raced through her thoughts. Why should she let a little fortune telling upset her? The reading was good for a laugh,
right? But as a Metro bus rolled by, a chill breeze made her shudder despite the August heat.

  Melanie snapped her fingers. She’d buy a tarot deck and do a few readings for herself. A few cards showing her soul mate was really Mr. Nice Guy would calm her. Heck, even a reading telling her that her soul mate was a male Siamese cat would do wonders for her nerves. Of course, she wasn’t really searching for a soul mate. Look where that had gotten her last time. Gerald. A successful search for good sex would do nicely, thank you. She should have asked Madame Lois a different question.

  But even as she stepped back into the store and gazed at the remarkable selection of tarot decks, her unfortunate reading nagged at her.

  She glanced at a herbal-themed tarot, then a dragon-themed deck and tried to put the situation into perspective. She was supposed to meet this devil-soul mate man at work, right? There was that tall, dark and handsome guy in Product Development. Rumor had it he played those internet role-playing games. Maybe this black magic and force stuff was the guy’s hobby, not his lifestyle.

  Grabbing an innocuous-looking deck of cards, she quickly paid for it. Then she exited again, door chimes clinking.

  “Melanie!” Jill called from across the street. She dashed over, ignoring the car roaring past. “How did it go?”

  Melanie leaned against the dusty window of a used-book shop. “Not exactly how I expected.”

  Jill pouted as she pushed her long, wavy hair back into its scrunchie and patted Melanie’s shoulder. “Bad news? Poor baby. I was going to wait until Monday, but I guess Madame Lois ruined my gossip.”

  “And Madame Lois? What kind of name is that for a psychic?” Melanie looked at Jill’s expression and backtracked. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

  Jill started to answer, but a series of car honks drowned out her voice. When the street noise dulled to a low roar, she spoke again. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

  Melanie narrowed her eyes. “Believe what?”

  “You know that convention you’re going to in Vegas? Well, the Swords and Sorcery Hotel called yesterday after you went to give your presentation at the board meeting.”

  Melanie gulped. She had yet to read her itinerary and hadn’t known the name of the convention hotel until now. “Is the convention canceled?”

  “No.” Jill’s voice was absurdly high, as if she were trying to hold back a laugh.

  “Then what’s wrong?” The smell of car exhaust that hung heavily in the summer air was making her head hurt.

  “They wanted to make sure you weren’t bothered.”

  “Bothered?” Melanie repeated.

  “They had a complaint from someone who found out about another convention at the same time as yours, so they thought they’d better warn their guests.” Jill giggled helplessly. “I told them you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Mind what?” A teenager in baggy shorts holding a skateboard leered at her as he walked past and entered the drugstore next door. Melanie winked at him. Some parts of being wild came easier than others.

  “That an adult industry conference and trade show would be next door to your bath and beauty product conference.”

  “What?” Melanie refocused on Jill, then was distracted by the copy of Hot Sex, How To Do It in the bookstore window.

  “Adult industry. You know, adult. Like adult—toys?”

  Melanie looked at her in disbelief. Then it dawned on her. Madame Lois. Bondage. This was unreal. She started giggling too, more than a little weirded out.

  “You aren’t going to believe what Madame Lois told me,” she said, catching her breath and making a mental note to pick up a copy of the sex manual later. “I just may meet my soul mate there.”

  “Really?” Jill’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”

  “Not exactly. C’mon, I need caffeine.”

  They headed to the Starbucks on the corner. Melanie decided on an iced double-tall mocha with whipped cream, a wilder choice than her usual nonfat, decaf latte with nutmeg, and Jill ordered the same. They settled at one of the tiny tables.

  “Okay,” Jill leaned forward. “What did Madame Lois say?”

  “Well…it’s embarrassing.” Melanie considered the wisdom of sharing her reading with Jill. She would spread the story all over the office on Monday.

  “Really? Cool!” Jill leaned even closer.

  “My soul mate,” Melanie paused for dramatic effect, “will be irresistible to me. Full of passion. A warrior type.”

  “All right!” Jill pumped a fist into the air.

  “Of course,” Melanie said casually, “he’s the…Devil.”

  Jill’s mouth dropped open. “The what?”

  “Close that thing,” Melanie admonished. “Flies will get in. You heard me.”

  Jill waved her comment away. “The Devil, huh. Kinky.”

  Melanie nodded. “I think the guy is into bondage. The card had chained figures on it.”

  Jill nearly swallowed her straw. “Bondage?”

  “Sure. It’s too good to be true. Between this reading and the adult convention, I’m bound to have some old-fashioned fun.”

  Jill shook her head, eyes wide. “Wow, your life really is going to change. Good luck.”

  Melanie leaned back and took a sip of her drink. Taking a deep breath, she said brightly, “So what should a girl like me wear on her first date with a devil-man?”

  Jill giggled. “I don’t think you date a guy like that. I think he just crooks a finger and drags you off.”

  “You don’t say.” Melanie pursed her lips. “That might not be so bad. Gets you past that nasty dating thing.”

  “Yeah, though you should be doing the crooking.” Jill grimaced. “But when have you ever had an independent bone in your body when it comes to men?”

  “I’ve learned a lot since Gerald. I won’t let a man control my life again.”

  * * * * *

  In Las Vegas, at the Swords and Sorcery Hotel, Rob Black hefted another of the heavy boxes marked with the LeatherWorks LTD logo and muttered an epithet at Tim, his useless assistant, who was off on a smoke break. He wished he were back in his nicely controlled office environment with his laptop, his calculator and his enormous mound of paperwork.

  He set the box on the floor of his trade show booth and ripped it open with a satisfying crack. Pulling out a handful of whips, he turned to the pegboard.

  Rob ran a finger lovingly down an ebony whip. Fabulous work, hand-tooled—and meant to be used on a horse, not a kinky human, but his grandfather had needed to find new markets when the riding accessories market dried up.

  Rob attached the whip to the center of the display board and picked up another. The color of blood, the leather shimmered under the fluorescent lights.

  “Sorry,” Tim puffed behind him. He saw the whip in Rob’s hand. “Nice work, isn’t it? I know a hot college girl who would get a kick out of the way you hold that.”

  Rob grimaced at him. “No thanks.”

  Tim shrugged. “If you ask me, boss, you’re in the wrong business. But then you wouldn’t know, trapped behind that desk.”

  “Paperwork is the same no matter the product,” Rob said lightly. He glanced down their aisle at the displays being rapidly assembled. “I guess I’ll go check out the competition.”

  “You betcha. These conventions are an unholy blast. Just you wait!” Tim hitched his belt over his slightly protruding belly and grinned.

  “I can wait for the fun, but I can’t wait for the work. Finish up the display, okay, Tim? I’ve got some calls to make.”

  Rob handed the whip to Tim then headed for the exit. The convention was large and the ballroom had its temporary dividers removed, making one large, loud room. Rob walked by a couple of people busy at a video production booth. A woman at another booth was setting out a line of Egyptian-themed edible massage oils.

  “Rob!”

  She looked vaguely familiar. Who was she? He scanned her features until recognition dawned. “Shari! It’s been ages!
” Rob strode over and gave the tall, exotic brunette a hug. “It’s been so long since I’ve worked a show I didn’t think I would see any familiar faces.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re actually working the trade show?”

  Rob grimaced. “I have to. My sales manager just quit.”

  Shari’s almond-shaped eyes twinkled. “You poor, poor man.”

  Rob pointed to the oils. “What’s all this? Last I heard you were operating a massage place by SeaTac airport.”

  “I still am. These oils were developed at my clinic.” She picked up a bottle and pulled out the stopper. “Isn’t it great?”

  Rob sniffed the strawberry-scented contents. “It smells nice, but I don’t know about pouring red goop all over someone.”

  Shari scoffed. “You never had any sense of adventure, did you? Here, try this one.” She picked up a slender, amber bottle.

  He sniffed, his eyes widening. “Now that’s a massage oil. What’s in it? It smells familiar.”

  “Sandalwood and lemon. A little musk.”

  “I like it.”

  Shari handed him a sealed bottle. “Take it. Have fun.” She winked.

  “Thanks.” Rob took the bottle and went toward the elevators. Maybe he could give it to Tim. As more than one ex-girlfriend had told him, he’d never been the creative type of lover.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, Melanie took a large gulp of her coffee. The scalding heat burned down her throat. Ahhh, that caffeine burn, she thought happily. She considered the company line of essential oils on the bookshelf across from her desk, right under her newly minted diploma from the Northwest Aromatherapy Institute proclaiming her to be a Master Aromatherapist.

  At the sound of rapidly moving feet, Melanie looked up to see trouble coming. Jill motored down the cubicle hallway like a NASCAR driver, taking turns tight and almost getting her voluminous green skirt caught in an open drawer as she sped by.

  Jill made a full stop at Melanie’s office door and held onto the doorjamb for support.