Reluctant Adept: Book Three of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (50 page)

I was so out of my depth with this guy.

Smirking, he announced, "Now, I believe a grilled cheese sandwich and sleeping for a week are called for." He pressed his lips together and, eyes darting to his left, snarled, "But first, I need to have a word with a
certain eavesdropping vampire
."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, you jealous bastard. I'm gone." Nathan peeked over Tíer's shoulder to give me a devious wink. "Thanks again, love. I'll say
adieu
since I believe we'll be seeing each other again." He grinned, his straight white teeth a dazzling contrast to the tawny brown of his full lips. "The blanket was a nice touch. Smells nice too. I dare say, the fragrance alone will sustain me throughout the duration of my punishment."

The door clicked shut just as Tíereachán turned his threatening glare over his shoulder.

Wow
. That strigoi could
move
. And a good thing too.

Chuckling, I went up on the balls of my feet and gave Tíer an impulsive peck on the cheek. I strolled away before he'd recovered from his astonishment.

Sure, my life might be bizarre, but at least I finally felt in control of it, eager to chart my own course.

I turned to give him an appreciative stare. "I'll tell you one thing, you sure do great things for my ego." Grinning, I tipped my head toward the kitchen. "Come on, Mr. Ninety Day Trial. Let me introduce you to the merits of grilled cheese. I'll tell you about everyone at my office and your new job. Sleeping for a week is optional."

"My new job?"

"Yep. For the past month and a half, Jack's been making noises about hiring a daytime guard. I think you'll fit the bill nicely. Don't you?"

His smug grin and raised eyebrow told me all I needed to know.

Hired
.

Oh, yeah. Definitely.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

If you're anything like me, you're a rabid Scrooge when it comes to your free time. You carefully ration it and begrudge the need to spend it on ridiculous distractions like eating, sleeping, and shaving your legs. Okay, that could just be me. Even so, the fact that you spent your valuable time, reading something I created for enjoyment, means a great deal to me.

But if I don't hear from you, cherished reader, I'll have no clue whether I succeeded or failed (or maybe just left you saying 'meh') in my attempt to entertain you.

I hope you'll consider posting a review of
Reluctant Adept
on the site where you purchased it. Reviews not only help other readers decide if my novels are something they might enjoy, but they also let me know where I need to improve as a storyteller. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Let me know what worked for you and what didn't. You're also welcome to visit and correspond with me on my website at www.katherinebayless.com. I'd love to hear from you.

You’ve just read the third novel in the
A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life
series. The first in the series is
Deadly Remains
. The second is
Deceiver's Bond
. I will be writing a fourth!

My other novel,
The 7th Tear
, is a stand-alone, contemporary romance with a paranormal twist. If you’d like to read an excerpt from
The 7th Tear
, please turn the page.

AN EXCERPT FROM THE 7TH TEAR

CHAPTER ONE

I talk to animals. Before you ask, no, they don't talk back. Maybe I’m a little weird, but I’m not crazy. Some kids have invisible friends. I had animals. The family dog. The neighbor's cat. My grandfather's pot-bellied pig. Animals are uncomplicated and loyal, two characteristics in short supply among humans if you ask me. And it doesn't hurt that, most of the time, they’re patient listeners.

As a veterinarian, I'd encountered plenty of animals, but the one swimming in the concrete pool, just below my dangling feet, was easily the most attentive I'd ever seen. Maybe it was because I had nursed the manatee back to health. The experience had forged a unique bond between us. Though, I’ll admit, lately I had been wondering whether that connection was more imagination than fact. The compound where I lived and worked wasn’t exactly a social hotspot. Getting out of the mainstream had seemed like a smart plan at first, but a private island on the leeward fringe of the Lesser Antilles was more isolated than I expected. It had occurred to me more than once that I might be falling back into the patterns of my childhood. Probably not a good sign.

The manatee bumped the bottom of my foot and blew air through his large nostrils, spraying my sun-baked skin with cool seawater and momentarily fogging me with the smell of hot trampled grass.

My startled snort echoed across the compound. "Hey!" I laughed and wiped the drops of water over my arms, grateful no humans were nearby to hear me sound like my old pig Tubby. "Okay. I get it. I've been complaining again, haven’t I?"

Jamie the manatee bobbed his head before submerging briefly and resurfacing to my right. I leaned down to scratch the top of his head, my breasts pressed uncomfortably flat against my thighs. His bumpy skin felt like a wet basketball under my fingertips. When I sat up, he continued to regard me with perceptive eyes. His dark-brown whiskers and hangdog mug never failed to raise my smile.

"I know. In the grand scheme, my problems are hardly life or death, unlike yours." I couldn't help glancing at the two-foot-long prop scar running down the middle of the manatee’s back. "Still, you have to admit, not being able to go out in public without being hounded by paparazzi or just confide in a friend without worrying about them selling the story to the damn tabloids ... well, it just sucks." I exhaled upward, blowing several golden-brown strands of hair out of my eyes. "You'd think people would have gotten tired of it by now."

From behind me, Sven Hillestad’s heavily accented voice boomed. "Good afternoon, Samantha. Conversing with the sea cow again, I see. He enjoys it, ya?"

The manatee retreated to the shadow of two submerged boulders, leaving me alone with my employer.

I turned to glance behind me, forcing a laugh. "Well, you should be glad it's him I'm talking to and not you. Most people don't want to hear me bitch. He's my captive audience."

After insisting I stay seated, Sven nimbly descended the stairs from the observation deck. When he neared the manatee's tank, I leaned back on my hands and tipped my head upward until his handsome face appeared below the bill of my faded Florida Marlins baseball cap. Behind him, waiting on the stairs, stood an impassive bodyguard. There were more down on the pool level too, I was sure, but they made a point of remaining unobtrusive.

Even on his private island, ten miles from the nearest town, Sven looked as though he expected important company. It didn't take more than a casual appraisal to see that his crisply cut and creased slacks probably cost more than a month's rent. The creamy-white of his silk shirt accentuated his tanned skin and dark hair. While I melted in the late afternoon sun, he radiated cool.

"Soon the world will find something else to amuse them. You will see." His friendly expression dissipated the awkwardness of being caught talking with Jamie.

I shrugged. "At least the primaries will be over soon. We'll see what happens after that. If my father wins the nomination..." I quelled the urge to criticize my dad’s decision to stay in the race—in spite of everything. Not wanting Sven to think I was ungrateful, I cocked my head and gestured to the lush landscape. "Still, I can’t imagine a better place for a media-hounded illegitimate daughter to lie low. That's for sure."

His quick exhalation and chin bob reminded me of an amused horse. I bit my lip to keep from smiling too widely at the thought, but judging by his expression, I hadn’t been entirely successful. He probably thought I was flirting with him. Maybe I was. I enjoyed being the beneficiary of his smile. His slender lips framed straight white teeth, which looked so perfect I couldn't help wondering whether they were capped.

He crouched down next to me, managing to look both relaxed and in control at the same time. "Then we are all happy. Your father’s suggestion came at an opportune time. You are in demand here. Thanks to your efforts, the sea cow recovers nicely. Soon he will be fit for release."

I zeroed in on the bombshell about Jamie, instead of the embarrassment over my father’s arrangement to get me out of the limelight. "He's still drastically underweight. He needs another few months if we want to ensure a better chance of survival." I felt my eyebrows furrow but tried to keep my voice light. "I thought you were going to keep him here."

"I changed my mind." Sven studied me for a moment. "And what of the orca?"

"Still looks good. I checked the wound this morning. He’s more than ready for release."

He tilted his head. "Perhaps for this one you will accompany me? Observing them, free in their world, is a wonder."

God. Here we go.

I quickly gathered my legs under me and stood, conscious of Sven’s surprised brown eyes. He took the move in stride, following my lead and standing to face me. My five-foot-seven frame put my chin about even with the top button of his silk shirt. I tucked several uncooperative curls inside my hat while trying not to squirm under his inquisitive gaze.

He looked down at me. “I know of your interest. Joanne tells me you like to watch and take pictures of them.”

It didn’t surprise me that my best friend and assistant Joanne had mentioned my passion for cetaceans to Sven. Joanne loved to chat. Not that she was an indiscriminate blabbermouth—whale watching was hardly a secret, unlike the humiliating revelations some of my so-called friends had sold to the tabloids.

"Yeah, I do. They're beautiful animals. Seeing them is always a treat." I squinted toward the turquoise horizon, just visible above the compound's verdant landscaping. "I watch them from my deck with the viewing scope you installed. Seeing them up close in their element must be incredible." I sighed. "But you know how I am about deep water. I just can't."

"I understand." His tone wasn't convincing.

I couldn't blame him. After all, being terrified of the ocean sounded ridiculous coming from a woman who chose to live on a small island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea—a woman who specialized in sea mammals.

Truth be told, if Sven hadn't ferried me over from the airport in his helicopter, I wouldn't have taken the job.

He studied me. "I have little knowledge of such things. Perhaps just a small cruise close to shore will not be so bad? Where the water is not so deep. We might go scout for a good release location for your friend here." He gestured toward the manatee.

I folded my arms and looked at Jamie, glad for the excuse to avoid Sven's direct gaze. Even under the waning sun, in little more than a skimpy tank top and running shorts, I felt an added sheen of sweat break out on my forehead. Sven's deliberate pressure was irritating, but I figured he meant well. Most people just didn't understand what it's like to live with a phobia. In the past, my fear of the ocean had been easy to ignore. Now, living on an island, it confronted me more and more frequently.

Jamie, I noticed, had come to the surface. With his head just above the waterline, he watched us from the far end of the tank.

"Do you know why I’m thalassophobic?" I wielded the clinical term like a shield, but it did nothing to make me feel less self-conscious. "I assume you researched my background before hiring me."

"Ya. I remember something of a boat accident. The presence of the orcas is most interesting. I didn't want to press but hoped you might speak of it."

His stilted English grated on my nerves, which raised alarm bells since his accent and choice of words didn't normally bug me. Before I got snippy, with my boss no less, I reminded myself again that he wasn't deliberately trying to upset me.

Most women would be thrilled right out of their panties to get such an invitation. Sven was unquestionably attractive, and his physique bordered on perfection. I had seen him shirtless more than once. No doubt male underwear models looked to him for inspiration. He was sophisticated, intelligent, passionate about the environment, and, at thirty-five, only six years older than me. Of all the men I could fathom dating, certainly he was the most eligible. And he was rich. I didn't have to worry about his motives, unlike most men who knew about my famous, wealthy father and my much-speculated-about trust fund. However, in spite of his friendliness, something about Sven’s demeanor made me keep my distance.

He watched me closely, waiting for my answer, but I couldn't think of a polite way to avoid the discussion. I shrugged and looked back toward the manatee. "There's not much to tell, really. On my tenth birthday, my grandpa took my mom and me out on a charter to go whale watching. He was an experienced sailor, but unfortunately we hit some rough weather. The boat went down. There were nine of us. We were in the water for two days before the Coast Guard found us. Sharks attacked two people, including my grandfather. And two of my cousins drowned when the boat capsized." My voice sounded flat as I maintained a careful detachment. "If it weren't for that pod of orcas, more of us would have died. They drove away the sharks and stayed nearby until help came."

Throughout my explanation, his eyes fixed on me in a way that made me uncomfortable. "Your tale of the orcas is fascinating. They are wondrous creatures, too often misunderstood. Too often called killers." He inclined his chin in a gesture of decision and reached out to touch my arm briefly. "I will not press, but the offer is there. If you change your mind and want to go out, I will take you."

I smiled. "I appreciate that. Thanks."

He straightened. "Have you met my cousin? When he is not otherwise occupied, he will help with feeding of the animals. My aunt demands he do something useful for the family. Somehow it has fallen to me to fulfill this wish."

His pained expression made me laugh. "No, I haven't met him yet, but I'll be glad for the help when Joanne’s on vacation. I've been meaning to ask you about it."