Amaryllis

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Authors: Jayne Castle
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Lark.” He hurried off into the crowd.
    Amaryllis glanced at Lucas. “Rye. Wasn’t that the name of your partner?”
    â€œJackson Rye. He was Calvin and Beatrice’s oldest son. Dillon is their youngest.”
    Amaryllis frowned. “Jackson Rye was killed at the start of the Western Islands Action, wasn’t he? The news accounts called him a hero.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDid the family inherit their son’s share of Lodestar Exploration?”
    â€œThe Ryes are no longer involved with the company,” Lucas said bluntly. “I bought them out eight months after Jackson was killed.”
    â€œI see.”
    The Ryes had wanted nothing from Lodestar except money after Jackson was killed, Lucas reflected. They certainly hadn’t wanted their quasi-adopted relative. Lucas had politely unadopted himself.
    Two more people emerged from the crowd. They homed in on Lucas with the skill of experts. Several heads turned to follow the handsome, sleekly coiffed man. The extremely thin blonde at his side carried a camera.
    Amaryllis made a tiny, excited sound. “Is that Nelson Burlton?”
    â€œYeah. Try to contain yourself.”
    â€œTrent.” Nelson came to a halt. “Knew you’d be around here somewhere. Hell of a crowd, huh?” He waved a manicured hand at his companion. “Elaine Crew. Friend of mine. Photographer with the
New Seattle Times
. Here on assignment. Me, I’m not working tonight.”
    â€œAmaryllis Lark, friend of mine,” Lucas said.
    Nelson Burlton turned the full power of his famous smile on Amaryllis. He held out his hand. “Miss Lark. A pleasure.”
    â€œIt’s wonderful to meet you in person. I feel as if I already know you.” Amaryllis blushed furiously. “I suppose everyone tells you that, don’t they?”
    Nelson winked. “Hey, comes with the territory.” He turned back to Lucas. “I told Elaine here that I’d talk you into letting her get a shot of you standing next to the display case. What d’ye say?”
    Elaine smiled. “I’d really appreciate it, Mr. Trent. My editor at the
Times
will be grateful.”
    Finding himself cornered by reporters and photographers did not usually fill Lucas with delight, but tonight he was almost relieved by the interruption. He needed something to force his thoughts back to the business of the evening.
    â€œWhy not?” Lucas said. He set the glass of watery punch down on a nearby table and waited with stoic patience while Elaine unsheathed her camera.
    Just as she was about to snap the picture, Amaryllis slipped gracefully out of range.
    â€œNo, wait, I want you in the shot, too, Miss Lark.” Elainelowered her camera and motioned Amaryllis back to stand beside Lucas. “Please.”
    Amaryllis shook her head politely but firmly. “I don’t think that would be right. Mr. Trent is the one who found these wonderful relics. I had nothing to do with it.”
    â€œBut you’re with Trent, aren’t you?” Nelson gave Lucas a speculative glance. “Someone said that you had recently registered with a marriage agency. I assumed that Miss Lark was a date.”
    â€œShe is,” Lucas said.
    â€œBut this is just an initial, get-acquainted date,” Amaryllis interjected hastily. “Lucas and I hardly know each other.” She gave Lucas a meaningful look. “Isn’t that right?”
    Her determination not to be photographed standing next to him exacerbated Lucas’s simmering irritation. She was happy to gush over Madison Sheffield and Nelson Burlton, he thought, but she didn’t want to appear in the newspapers with the man who had brought her to the party.
    He gave her a deliberate smile. “I’m sure we’ll be much better acquainted before the evening is over. After all, our agency claims to hit a perfect match on the first date ninety-four point six percent of the time.

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