Falling Awake(27)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

“Sounds like the old man knew his son pretty well.”

“Yes. A sad situation. They were estranged for years. Randolph still has a lot of unresolved father issues.”

“Why did you get all of Belvedere’s papers?”

She exhaled deeply. “According to the lawyer’s letter, Dr. B. trusted me to see to it that his theories were not lost or destroyed. Belvedere yearned for validation and vindication, even if he had to get it after his death.”

“And he stuck you with the job of making sure he was not forgotten in the field of dream research.”

“Yep.”

“What are you going to do with those cartons?”

Glumly she surveyed the large boxes. “Rent another storage locker, I suppose.”

“That’s going to cost you over time.”

“I sort of figured that out for myself.”

“But you’re going to take care of them, just like you’re taking care of the cat, aren’t you?”

“I owe Dr. B. a great deal. If it hadn’t been for him I’d probably still be answering phones at the Psychic Dreamer Hotline.”

He smiled. “Something tells me that sooner or later you would have escaped the hotline. Ready to go?”

“Yes.”

He opened the door and looked at her as she went past him out into the blustery evening. She could feel the electricity crackling in the air in advance of the storm.

“Want me to put the top down?” he asked.

Surprised, she glanced at the sleek vehicle sitting in front of the house. Delight and anticipation welled up inside her.

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “That would be lovely.”

He smiled again, as if he had already guessed her answer and was pleased with it.

the drive along the bluffs into town was the most exhilarating experience Isabel could remember in a long, long time, maybe the most exhilarating thing she had ever done in her entire life, she reflected.

Ellis handled the sleek, sexy sports car exactly as she had suspected he would: with absolute control and intuitive competence. His reflexes were perfectly in sync with the powerful engine and precision steering.

The heavy clouds were closing in fast, blotting out the last of the sunlight. It would be a while before the rain struck but the steel-colored waters churned and boiled in anticipation.

She felt a little high, she realized. It was as if she were channeling some of the atmospheric energy.

Ellis glanced at her. “You like storms?”

“I love storms.”

He smiled his mysterious smile.

The wind howled around the Maserati. Isabel could feel her hair lashing around her face. She laughed.

“Talk about a really great flying dream,” she said.

“You ever actually have one of those?”

“I have them all the time.” She turned her head to look at him through her wild hair. “What about you?”

“Oh, yeah.” His hands flexed slightly on the wheel. He did not take his attention off the road. “And you’re right. This sure feels like one hell of a flying dream.”

half an hour later, inside the restaurant, he took off his dark glasses, slipped them into the pocket in the lining of his jacket and looked at Isabel across the table.

He knew all about dangerous thrill rides, he thought. He took psychic risks in his dreams, physical risks working for Lawson and huge financial risks as a venture capitalist. But he also knew how to protect himself from the really hazardous stuff in life. He had learned that lesson at the age of twelve. When it came to intimate relationships of any kind, he had always been very careful to play it safe. If you never loved, you never had to mourn a loss.

Tonight he was on the verge of tossing a lifetime of caution out the window. There was no doubt in his mind that sitting across from Isabel was far and away the most reckless thing he had ever done.

If he had any sense, he would turn around and walk away right now, he told himself. But he knew he wasn’t going to do that. He was already on the roller coaster and it was too late to get off. He could feel the anticipation and the promise of the rush.

She was all Tango Dancer tonight, he thought. Her dark hair gleamed in the low, intimate lights. The sexy curves of her shoulders, outlined by the snug-fitting material of her black dress, were even more seductive in person than they had been in the photo on his refrigerator. He had to work hard not to just sit there and stare at her. He wanted to absorb every detail, from her fascinating eyes to the warmth of her voice and the subtle scent of her body.

The rain had struck just as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. He barely got the top up on the Maserati in time to protect the leather upholstery. Then he and Isabel made a mad dash for the shelter of the entrance.

For some reason they both found the situation hilarious. They were still laughing, as if they shared some secret, cosmic joke, when they reached the hostess’s podium.

The sense of intimacy was spellbinding. He wished he could take Isabel down onto the beach and make love to her in the sand with the wind and the waves crashing around them. Something in her eyes told him that she would have gone with him.

It was as if one of his own extreme dreams had become real. Except that in his Level Five dreams he never had to make dinner-table conversation.

“Did anyone at the Belvedere Center for Sleep Research ever figure out just what you and the old man were doing?” he asked after the waiter had delivered an appetizer of chilled shellfish.

“No.” Isabel’s copper nails sparkled as she squeezed a wedge of lemon over the cold mussels, clams and oysters. “The rest of the staff just wrote off the Department of Dream Analysis as another example of Dr. Belvedere’s eccentric nature. Everyone knew he had some really strange theories, of course, but they pretended not to notice because he brought in the funding that paid their salaries.”

He helped himself to one of the mussels. “Did they consider you eccentric, too?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I think they viewed me more as the office mascot. No one took me seriously. As far as the staff was concerned, I was only there because Dr. Belvedere wanted a personal assistant to help him organize his private research. He owned the place so he got to do what he wanted.”

“That attitude must have been hard to take at times.”

“It could be annoying occasionally.” She picked up a tiny fork and pried one of the clams out of the shell. “But for the most part my position at the center was what you might call a dream job for me.”