Absolutely, Positively

forces of his own nature. It had all become so painfully clear last night.

    For a man of learning and logic, a modern-day Renaissance man who prided himself on his intellectual prowess and his self-mastery, there could be no more threatening concept than the idea that he might possess a paranormal sixth sense. A sense that could not be explained or comprehended was anathema.

    Harry could not even bring himself to believe in the possibility of paranormal abilities, let alone accept the fact that he might actually be endowed with some.

    Realistic meant being patient while Harry struggled to unite the two sharply divided elements within himself. His talent for rationalizing the situation was astounding, Molly thought wryly. With true Trevelyan sleight of hand, he had pulled off the very neat trick of occasionally tapping his sixth sense without admitting to himself that he even possessed it. Insight, he called it.

    Insight, my big toe, Molly thought. Whatever Harry's sixth sense was, it was a lot more than reasoned insight. And on some level he knew that. That was what was tearing him apart.

    Oh, yes, she was being excruciatingly, painfully, realistic about her relationship with Harry.

    Realistic meant accepting that his talent, whatever it was, might very well prevent him from ever experiencing the emotion of love in the same way that normal people experienced it.

    Molly was absolutely certain that they shared a bond, and she was sure that Harry realized it. The deep hunger in him was undeniable, as was the satisfaction they found together. But she could not even begin to guess how Harry interpreted the nature of that bond.

    She would have given a great deal to have a slightly more unrealistic view of the situation, Molly thought. She was, after all, about to marry a man who had never even told her that he loved her.

    Of course, she hadn't told him that she loved him, either.

    Venicia seemed unaware of Molly's distracted air. “The thing is,” she continued forcefully, “you're not exactly a poor woman, Molly. I hate to say this, dear, but a lady in your situation must seriously question a man's interest in her before she commits herself to marriage. Surely you learned that lesson from your experience with Gordon Brooke.”

    “You're not living below the poverty line, either, Venicia. But you don't seem concerned about Cutter's interest in you.”

    “That's different, and you know it. Cutter is quite comfortably well off in his own right. You've seen the yacht and the house on Mercer Island. He has an established background.”

    “So does Harry.”

    “I know he's a member of the Stratton family, but you heard Cutter explain that he's not in line for any of the money.”

    “Harry doesn't want the Stratton money. He's got enough of his own.”

    “You mean from his books and consulting fees? Dear, that sort of income would hardly make him wealthy. He writes academic tomes, not best-sellers that get made into films. I'm sure the consulting business pays quite handsomely by most people's standards, but it can't possibly compete with your own income. You are a very wealthy woman, Molly.”

    “Only when you consider the assets of the Abberwick Foundation.”

    “One can hardly ignore them. You control those assets, my dear. And that's just my point. It was bad enough when Cutter and I were concerned that Trevelyan was planning to skim off exorbitant fees for his consulting services. Now we've got to wonder if he's marrying you in order to get his hands on the foundation income.”

    “Set your mind at ease,” Molly said. “Harry was not exactly pushing for marriage. As a matter of fact, technically speaking, he never even asked me to marry him.”

    Venicia looked dumbfounded. “He didn't?”

    “I'm the one who proposed to him,” Molly explained. “And it wasn't easy. I had to drag the appropriate response out of him.”

    Harry might possess an unusual talent for seeing beneath the surface, Molly thought, but he was blind as a bat in some ways.

    “I don't believe this. You're going to marry him?” Tessa's expression was every bit as astonished as Venicia's had been. “I thought this was supposed to be just an affair or something.”

    “Things change.” Molly opened the copy of thePost-Intelligencer that was lying on her desk and surveyed the ad for Abberwick Tea & Spice. “This looks great. Terrific placement. Right next to an article on the health benefits of tea