The question seemed to baffle him at first, as if she had just asked him to explain the origin of the universe in one easy sentence. When his expression cleared, however, his gaze was cool and steady.
“No,” he said.
It was a very flat, very unequivocal no, she decided.
“Well, that’s a relief.” She picked up the snifter and took a fortifying sip of brandy. “For a minute there, I thought maybe Radnor’s visit to you today had put some ideas into your head.”
“You wouldn’t cheat on me.”
She was touched by the deep certainty in his voice. “And you wouldn’t cheat on me. Something in common, hmm?”
“Yeah, we’ve definitely got that much in common.”
Her heart sank for the second time in five minutes. What was wrong now? She felt as if she were on some sort of invisible roller coaster.
She cleared her throat. “Similar standards of morality are vital to the long-term success of a relationship.” Sheesh. She sounded like a page from a pop-psych relationship book. Dr. Zoe’s Ten Simple Rules for a Terrific Marriage.
Dark amusement gleamed briefly in Ethan’s eyes. “Believe it or not, I sort of figured that out for myself.”
She’d had enough. “Ethan, what’s going on here? You’re acting weird.”
“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a long day.”
She uncurled her legs and put her feet on the floor. “We’ve established that you don’t think I’m cheating on you. So what are you worried about? I can tell that this has something to do with us, not with what happened to your brother or what’s going on with Arcadia. Talk to me.”
He looked at her very steadily. “Sometimes a man doesn’t want to hear the answers to his questions.”
“Ask me, Ethan. Please. I can’t deal with the unknown, not when it involves us.”
For a moment she thought that he would refuse.
“All right,” he said finally. “I’m wondering if you’re regretting our marriage.”
“What?”
“I’m thinking maybe you feel you have to stick to it because I talked you into promising that you would give it a try. You’re one of those people who stands by her promises.”
Stunned, she could only stare at him. This was the very last thing she had expected to hear from him.
“Where did you get the idea that I was having second thoughts?” she whispered.
“From the way you seem to pull into yourself and away from me at times.” He looked at her, stone-faced. “You’re doing it more and more lately. Especially when we talk about whatever it is you feel when you walk into certain rooms.”
“Ethan.” She stopped. She did not have the foggiest idea of where to go with this issue. He was right, she was getting increasingly frustrated with his refusal to accept that she was psychic.
But what right did she have to force him to acknowledge a claim that the vast majority of rational, intelligent people would treat as a case of serious self-delusion at best and deliberately fraudulent at worst?
“I get the sense that if I don’t buy into your theory that you’ve got some sort of sixth sense, you won’t be able to tolerate me as a husband,” Ethan said evenly. “Am I right?”
A strange panic swept through her. This was not the time or the place for this conversation. They had other problems at the moment.
Okay, so I’ve been hoping to postpone it for a while. Like indefinitely. So sue me. I don’t want to lose this man. I love him.
But Ethan was not the kind of guy who went through life postponing the inevitable.
She drew herself up and clasped her hands around her knees. She had to swallow twice before she could speak.
“I’m afraid that if you can’t eventually learn to accept that part of my nature,” she said quietly, “you won’t be able to live with me. Not as a husband, at any rate. Maybe we could be lovers and get by. But marriage is different.”
“Different?”
She was aware of a dull ache in the region of her heart. When she looked down she saw that she had her fingers so tightly laced together that her knuckles had turned white.
“Ethan, I have already been involved in one marriage in which I had to hide the truth about myself. I loved Preston very much, but I knew that he could never have handled the idea that
I might actually be psychic. He would have feared for my sanity. Probably tried to get me to see countless doctors. The stress on our marriage would have been intolerable.”
“So you never told him?”
She shook her head once. “I did not want to put that burden on him because I knew what it would do to him. To us. But it cost me a great deal to pretend that I was . . . normal. Later, after he was gone, I’d wake up in those really dark hours between midnight and dawn and I’d wonder if . . . if . . .” She closed her eyes against the welling tears.
“You wondered, if Preston had lived, whether your marriage would have survived what you think is the truth about yourself?”
She nodded. The tears leaked out from under her lids. Damn, damn, damn, she thought. Not now. The last thing she wanted to do was dissolve into a puddle. This was not the time for a big emotional scene.
Irritated, she unclasped her fingers and swiped at the moisture on her cheeks with the back of her hand. Breathe. Act normal. You can do this. You’ve been faking it all your life.
But she didn’t want to have to fake anything with Ethan.
When she had herself under some semblance of control, she opened her eyes and saw Ethan watching her with enigmatic intensity.
“And you felt guilty,” he finished for her.
“Sooner or later I think I would have had to tell Preston the truth,” she admitted. “I don’t think it’s the kind of secret you can keep forever. Not in a marriage.”
Ethan got to his feet, crossed to the sofa in one stride, reached down and closed his hands around her shoulders.
“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a really major difference between this marriage and the one you had with Preston.” He hauled her up to stand in front of him. “The fact that you think that you’re psychic is not a secret here, remember?”
“I know, but it amounts to the same thing because you don’t believe me.”
“No, it isn’t the same thing at all. I realize that you’re convinced that you’re psychic. I think you just happen to be a hell of a lot more intuitive than the average person. But regardless of how we each interpret your abilities, let’s get one thing clear. I do not think that you need to see a doctor. You’re not crazy.”
“Ethan—”
He kissed her, quick and hard, sweeping away her arguments. When he raised his head she was breathless.
“You’ve had some extremely unpleasant experiences because of your intuition,” he said steadily. “So you think you’re not normal.”
She clenched her hands at her sides. “It’s true. I’m not normal.”
“Well, hell, neither am I. I told you once that I was the exact opposite of my brother Drew. He did everything right. Met and exceeded all expectations. Followed a straight upward trajectory from kindergarten to president and CEO of a major corporation. Along the way he found time for a good marriage and a couple of terrific sons.”
But it was Drew who had been murdered in cold blood, she recalled, leaving Ethan to pick up the pieces of his brother’s life and seek cold justice in an uncaring universe.
“I understand what you’re trying to do here,” she whispered. “But it isn’t necessary.”
“Me, I did it all wrong,” he continued roughly. “I’m a college dropout with three failed marriages and a multimillion-dollar bankruptcy behind me. And those are just a few of the highlights. The truth is, my life is a history of screwups.”
“Stop it.” Incensed, she grabbed his wrists. “Don’t say that. You are not a screwup.”
“And I don’t think you’re crazy just because you’re into the woo-woo thing.” He moved his ha
nds from her shoulders to cup her face.
“Ethan?”
“I want you more than I have ever wanted anything or anyone else in my whole life.”
Before she could respond, he was kissing her again. This time he wasn’t trying to keep her silent. This kiss was all about a driving, elemental need. The starkly powerful hunger radiated from him in dizzying waves that enveloped her.
The desperation and despair she had been feeling a moment before vaporized in the all-consuming fire of passion. The desire that sparked between them would not solve all of their problems, she realized, but it was a potent drug. They could use it to push aside the uncertainties and the unknowns for a time.
Ethan deepened the kiss, seeking the response she knew he needed from her. She was shatteringly aware of his erection. The knowledge that she had this effect on him excited her, made her feel powerful.
She put her arms around his neck, fighting him for the kiss.
He cradled her head in one hand and explored her throat with his mouth, letting her feel the edge of his teeth. Playing the dangerous lover, she mused. No, not playing the part. There was a hint of the real predator under the surface.
It was an incredibly erotic sensation because she knew that, although he was a hunter at heart, he was her hunter. She could trust him in ways that she had never trusted anyone else in her life.
She pushed her hands up under his black tee shirt and sank her nails into the contoured muscles of his chest. He sucked in his breath and then released it in the wake of a heated groan, making no secret of his desire.
The room spun around her. When the world steadied again she discovered that she was flat on her back on the carpet. Ethan loomed above her, anchoring her with one hand and his leg. He used his free hand to unfasten her blouse and bra. Then he went to work on her trousers, pulling them off together with her panties. The garments fluttered and disappeared in the shadows.
He settled one leg between hers and moved it deliberately upward, easing her thighs apart until his knee was pressed firmly against her. She knew she was already wet; knew he could feel the dampness through the fabric of his pants.
She slipped her palms along his ribs beneath his tee shirt. He leaned over her and took one nipple into his mouth. Then he found her with his fingers.
The delicious movement of his hand, together with the increasing suction on her breast was almost too much to bear. She moved her hips, trying to assuage the tight, swollen sensation, but it only got more intense.
A restless energy moved through her, filling her with a luscious, decadent sense of abandon. Ethan freed her in more ways than one. Not only could she argue with him about whether or not she was psychic; with him she could revel in this daring, outrageously sexy side of her nature. It was an aspect of herself that she had not even suspected existed until she met him.
She realized that she thought of her sex life as divided into two parts: Before Ethan and After Ethan.
Before Ethan sex had been a pleasant, usually cheerful experience but not a particularly compelling one. The After Ethan sexual experience, however, had altered all of her long-standing definitions of what constituted great sex. After Ethan sex was hot and intense and exhilarating.
It was the experience of After Ethan sex that had taught her that she actually possessed a surprisingly passionate nature. That discovery had struck her as far more amazing and infinitely more strange and wondrous than her psychic side, which she had taken for granted all her life.
Ethan eased two fingers inside her. She shuddered, her body clenching. He covered her mouth with his own. She reached down, unzipped his pants and encircled his heavily engorged erection.
“I want you inside me.” She tried to guide him with her hand. “Right. Now.”
His laugh was like the rasping tongue of a great cat against her skin.
“Not yet,” he said against her throat. “First I want you to show me how hard and how fast you like it.”
She smiled slowly up at him, feeling infinitely mysterious and seductive in his arms. “Ah, but that’s just it. Sometimes I like it slow and easy.”
His eyes gleamed in the night. “I’m adaptable.”
She arched herself against his invading fingers, determined to have what she craved. Again and again she moved, arching and contracting, creating a thrusting sensation that stoked the hot tension in her lower body. And through it all, the pressure of his thumb on her clitoris never lessened.
When she could stand it no longer, she encircled him with her legs and tightened her thighs around him. She felt his control slip the leash.
He whispered to her, wicked, sexy, provocative words that drove her to the brink.
She’d had enough.
She pushed against his shoulder, absolutely determined now. He went willingly over onto his back, eyes gleaming with anticipation and dark pleasure. She lowered herself slowly down onto him.
Ethan wrapped his palms around her buttocks and thrust upward, deep and hard. She shattered at the first stroke. Her release rolled through her in waves.
“Zoe.”
His fingers tightened around her. His whole body went rigid. He pumped himself into her until oblivion overcame both of them.
A long time later they made their way into the bedroom. She did not have the energy to put on a nightgown. She crawled under the covers. Ethan fell into bed beside her and gathered her close.
She felt him slide into sleep almost immediately, his favorite cure for insomnia once again working its magic.
But the tonic did not prove equally effective for her. Exhausted though she was, she lay awake for a long time, thinking about the past and the present.
Nothing had been resolved that night. Ethan still did not believe that she was psychic. But on the plus side, he did not think that she was crazy just because she happened to think that she possessed a sixth sense. She was not sure where to go with that.
It wasn’t just sex that was different with Ethan. Everything was different with him.
She nestled closer to him, savoring the comfort she took from the strength and heat of his body.
After a while she slept.
It was a good night. She did not dream.
28
At six-thirty the next morning, she poured the soy milk over an extra large serving of muesli and set the bowl in front of Ethan. He did not take his attention off the notebook he had open on the table.
She sat down across from him and doled out his morning vitamins. “What’s Plan A today?”
“Same as it was yesterday. Keep digging.”
She unscrewed the cap of the large bottle of calcium tablets. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Yeah?” He picked up his spoon, still focused on his notes.
“Lindsey Voyle is still a bit of a question mark in this case, right?”
His spoon stilled above the bowl of muesli. He raised his head, wary now. “I told you, I checked her out six ways from Sunday, honey. She’s clean. There’s absolutely nothing to connect her to Grant Loring or any of the people on Arcadia’s list of Loring’s enemies and known associates.”
His calm, reasonable tone irritated her. If this marriage was going to work, he had to realize that a night of great sex was not enough to make her back off from her own theories.
“My psychic intuition picked up something in two different places where Lindsey has been recently. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.” She knew she sounded stubborn, probably downright mulish, but she was not about to let it go.
“Psychic intuition, huh?” His mouth curved up. “Is that what you’ve decided to call it?”
“It occurred to me while I was fixing breakfast a few minutes ago that the phrase covers all the bases. It’s a compromise.”
“Uh-huh. Well, whatever it is, I don’t think it’s going to be real helpful on this case. I couldn’t find a damn thing linking Voyle to this thing going on with Arcadia.”
“I know. But maybe I can uncover something.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”
She smiled very sweetly. “Hey, maybe you’re a little bit psychic, after all.”
“No.”
“No, you’re not psychic?”
He did his Wyatt Earp squint. Looking dangerous. “No, you are not going to do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing at Lindsey Voyle’s house.”
“I’m just planning to take a look around.”
“No.”
“It would be easy to get inside legally. She’s one of Arcadia’s regular customers. I’ll bet that Arcadia could help me come up with an excuse to visit Lindsey at her home. I’ll just sort of feel my way around. I won’t take any chances.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
She ate some cereal.
“I’m dead serious, Zoe. I’m running this investigation. That means we do things my way. Got it?”
“You ever worry that you might have control issues?” she asked.
“I’ve got ’em, but they don’t worry me at all. I like being in control.” He stuck his spoon into his cereal and put a healthy-sized amount into his mouth. He started to chew and then stopped abruptly. He stared at the muesli with an incredulous expression.
“What the hell?” he said.
“Probably the soy milk,” she said. “I think it may be an acquired taste.”
He finished chewing very quickly, swallowed and grabbed his glass of orange juice. He downed half the contents in a single gulp.
When he eventually lowered the glass he examined the liquid in his cereal bowl as though it were some alien life form.
“Good for my cholesterol and my prostate, you said?”
“I read it in a newspaper article.”
He poked at the cereal with his spoon. “You can’t believe everything you read in the papers, you know.”
“Just give it a try for a few days,” she urged. “If you don’t develop a taste for it, we can switch back to regular milk.”
He scooped up another spoonful. “I’m not real concerned about my cholesterol, but, hell, anything for my prostate.”
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