She stopped at the door of the spa-like bath and looked back. “What?”
“I might be able to deal with my failed experiment, as you call it, if I understood why I didn’t see the disaster coming until it was almost too late. I’m not an exotic, high-end talent but I’m good at connecting dots. Why did I miss all the signals?”
She gave him a long, considering look. “Aside from the primal appeal of the secretly sexy librarian fantasy?”
“Aside from that,” he said, trying not to grind his teeth.
“Well, I can’t be absolutely positive—my aunt is the expert when it comes to identifying exotic talents—but have you considered the possibility that your rogue librarian was a reflection talent?”
She might as well have hurled a bolt of lightning at him. For a moment he was dumbstruck.
“Well, shit,” he finally managed.
“They make very successful con artists because they figure out what you want and then make you think they can fulfill your deepest desires. All they have to do is say the right words. Their auras do the real work. Add to that the element of sexual attraction and it’s hard to resist someone with that kind of psychic ability.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair and shook his head. Disgusted. “I never considered that possibility.”
She smiled benignly. “Perfectly understandable. You were looking for love, not trouble. Afterward you were too busy blaming yourself for your poor judgment to do a routine failure analysis.” She disappeared into the bath. “Don’t forget to fix up the bed.”
The door closed.
Bruce padded across the room and rested his head on one of Luke’s legs.
“You heard the lady,” Luke said. “We need to engineer the bed.”
Twenty-Seven
Sophy eventually emerged from thebath. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her face was scrubbed of all makeup, and she was swathed neck-to-ankle in a fluffy white robe emblazoned with the inn’s logo.
It struck him that she looked adorable—soft and warm and incredibly sexy.
She considered the bed with a judicious air, taking in the neatly arranged row of pillows that formed a barrier straight down the middle.
“Excellent,” she said. “That will work.”
She didn’t have to sound so enthusiastic, he thought.
He retreated to the bathroom and came out wearing one of the robes and was relieved to see that the lights were off. Sophy was snugged up under the covers. Maybe she wouldn’t notice him climbing into bed beside her wearing only his briefs and a T-shirt. In hindsight, it was clear he should have bought some pajamas before the long drive to the art colony, but they had been in a hurry and it had never crossed his mind.
When he was settled on his side of the massive bed he folded his arms behind his head and gazed up at the shadowed ceiling. Connecting a few dots.
“We need to get up very early in the morning,” he announced.
“Why?” Sophy mumbled into the pillow.
“I want to check out the natural radiation levels in the area at sunrise. To do that, it will be necessary to get as far away as possible from the lights here in the compound. They are on night and day.”
There was a short silence from the other side of the pillow barrier.
“Why do we have to check out the rad levels at dawn?” she asked.
“I want to see if the natural currents feel unstable or if the problem is just in the center of the compound. There are times during the twenty-four-hour solar cycle when paranormal currents oscillate in a way that allows for observations of stability. The transition from night to day is one of them.”
“I didn’t know that. Interesting. Good night, Luke.”
“Good night, Sophy.”
It was, he thought, going to be a long time until dawn. He turned onto his side and saw Bruce curled up on the carpet next to the bed. Aware that he was being watched, the dog raised his head and opened his molten gold eyes in an inquiring expression.
