do,” Felix interrupted enthusiastically. “Double-check my figures. Then I’m going to cast your current horoscope. After that, we really need to sit down with the tarot deck.”
“Um, maybe—”
“Where are you going?” Diana asked as Felix hopped up and headed for the door.
“Down to my study.”
“Oh, Felix, can’t it wait till morning?” Diana said. “It’s already late, and you’ve got an early appointment tomorrow.”
“I do?” He stopped and stared at her in bewilderment.
“Yes. Remember? Mrs. Bouvier called today, and she was so insistent, I squeezed her into tomorrow’s schedule.”
“We discussed this?”
“Yes, Felix.”
“Oh. Well, yes, I suppose you’re right, Diana. I want to be fresh for my clients tomorrow.”
Nick was dying to ask about Mrs. Bouvier’s call, but too much had been said already, and he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself tonight. Diana’s eyes were already sparkling with probing questions. He couldn’t afford to show too much natural curiosity or deductive reasoning.
“I guess I’ll go meditate in my room and get ready for bed,” Felix said serenely. “Good night, Nick. I can’t tell you how intriguing this has been.”
“Good night, Felix.” As Nick watched the older man leave the room, he felt a strange tug inside him. He smiled wryly as he realized he was becoming kind of fond of the astrologer.
“A gun-toting, skirt-chasing private eye?” Diana asked archly.
Nick turned to find her studying him with mingled amusement and suspicion. He shrugged. “Hey, maybe my problem is just that I’ve chosen the wrong path in life. How was I to know the celestial bodies wanted me to become Sam Spade?”
“It’s certainly interesting that the stars indicate no interest in higher spiritual pursuits.”
He gave her a slow grin. “So you do believe, after all.”
She ran a hand through her hair and stood up. “I never said that.”
“No, don’t deny it. You believe .” He folded his arms across his chest and leered mischievously at her. “Want me to chase your skirt?”
She rolled her eyes at him and cleared away the tea mugs. “No. Just tell me who you are and what you did for thirty-three years before coming to the House of Ishtar. A brief synopsis will do.”
“Ah-ah. That would be telling, and I’m sure Felix prefers a challenge.” He stood up and carried the honey pot to her. After she had put it away, they faced each other. “But if you’re worried about the gun-toting part of his prediction, I’d suggest a body search.”
He wondered why he had said that. Then he saw the flash of desire in her eyes and knew he had said it because—beyond personal or professional integrity—he wanted to touch her again. And he wanted her to touch him.
Diana risked a glance at Nick and was immediately ensnared by the exotic blue of his gaze. She heard muffled drumming and recognized it as her own heartbeat, suddenly quick and heavy with excitement. “A body search?”
“Sure. In case you still don’t trust me,” he explained in a voice gone low and gravelly.
“I don’t dis trust you. Exactly.” Her gaze moved over his body, enjoying a visual search. His cambric shirt and faded blue jeans clung to his lean muscular body in such fine detail that it was obvious to the most casual observer that he wasn’t carrying any extra equipment.
“Like what you see?” he asked cockily.
“I’d say there’s no room to tote a gun,” she answered truthfully.
“You never know,” he whispered. He took her hand in his, drew her closer, so close she could feel his body heat, and laid her palm against his hard chest. “There’s all sorts of high-tech camouflage these days.”
Diana swallowed when she felt the firm swell of his pectoral muscles. Prompted by desires she had kept under tight control all day, she let her fingers glide over his chest, down his ribs, and across the washboard muscles of his stomach. “This feels
“Um, maybe—”
“Where are you going?” Diana asked as Felix hopped up and headed for the door.
“Down to my study.”
“Oh, Felix, can’t it wait till morning?” Diana said. “It’s already late, and you’ve got an early appointment tomorrow.”
“I do?” He stopped and stared at her in bewilderment.
“Yes. Remember? Mrs. Bouvier called today, and she was so insistent, I squeezed her into tomorrow’s schedule.”
“We discussed this?”
“Yes, Felix.”
“Oh. Well, yes, I suppose you’re right, Diana. I want to be fresh for my clients tomorrow.”
Nick was dying to ask about Mrs. Bouvier’s call, but too much had been said already, and he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself tonight. Diana’s eyes were already sparkling with probing questions. He couldn’t afford to show too much natural curiosity or deductive reasoning.
“I guess I’ll go meditate in my room and get ready for bed,” Felix said serenely. “Good night, Nick. I can’t tell you how intriguing this has been.”
“Good night, Felix.” As Nick watched the older man leave the room, he felt a strange tug inside him. He smiled wryly as he realized he was becoming kind of fond of the astrologer.
“A gun-toting, skirt-chasing private eye?” Diana asked archly.
Nick turned to find her studying him with mingled amusement and suspicion. He shrugged. “Hey, maybe my problem is just that I’ve chosen the wrong path in life. How was I to know the celestial bodies wanted me to become Sam Spade?”
“It’s certainly interesting that the stars indicate no interest in higher spiritual pursuits.”
He gave her a slow grin. “So you do believe, after all.”
She ran a hand through her hair and stood up. “I never said that.”
“No, don’t deny it. You believe .” He folded his arms across his chest and leered mischievously at her. “Want me to chase your skirt?”
She rolled her eyes at him and cleared away the tea mugs. “No. Just tell me who you are and what you did for thirty-three years before coming to the House of Ishtar. A brief synopsis will do.”
“Ah-ah. That would be telling, and I’m sure Felix prefers a challenge.” He stood up and carried the honey pot to her. After she had put it away, they faced each other. “But if you’re worried about the gun-toting part of his prediction, I’d suggest a body search.”
He wondered why he had said that. Then he saw the flash of desire in her eyes and knew he had said it because—beyond personal or professional integrity—he wanted to touch her again. And he wanted her to touch him.
Diana risked a glance at Nick and was immediately ensnared by the exotic blue of his gaze. She heard muffled drumming and recognized it as her own heartbeat, suddenly quick and heavy with excitement. “A body search?”
“Sure. In case you still don’t trust me,” he explained in a voice gone low and gravelly.
“I don’t dis trust you. Exactly.” Her gaze moved over his body, enjoying a visual search. His cambric shirt and faded blue jeans clung to his lean muscular body in such fine detail that it was obvious to the most casual observer that he wasn’t carrying any extra equipment.
“Like what you see?” he asked cockily.
“I’d say there’s no room to tote a gun,” she answered truthfully.
“You never know,” he whispered. He took her hand in his, drew her closer, so close she could feel his body heat, and laid her palm against his hard chest. “There’s all sorts of high-tech camouflage these days.”
Diana swallowed when she felt the firm swell of his pectoral muscles. Prompted by desires she had kept under tight control all day, she let her fingers glide over his chest, down his ribs, and across the washboard muscles of his stomach. “This feels
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