Absolutely, Positively

well as his current occupation combined to ensure that he viewed the world with what some people called a marked degree of cynicism. He preferred to call it intelligent skepticism, but the result was the same.

    The good news was that he rarely got conned, scammed, or fleeced.

    The bad news was that a lot of people thought that he was cold-blooded. That, however, did not bother Harry.

    By training and inclination, Harry demanded hard, solid proof in virtually every arena of his life. He had a passion for it. He preferred a logical approach to all things.

    Once in a while, however, his finely tuned brain seemed to skip the usual methodical steps and leaped straight to an insight so shatteringly perceptive that it sometimes scared him.Really scared him. Nevertheless, for the most part, he took satisfaction in exercising his razor-sharp intelligence. He knew that he was much better at thinking than he was at handling relationships.

    Thus far he had moved slowly and carefully toward his goal of beginning an affair with Molly. He did not intend to make the mistake he had made with his ex-fiancée. He would not become involved with another woman in a desperate attempt to seek an answer to the dark questions about himself that he could not, would not put into words.

    He would settle for sex and companionship this time.

    “Will that be all, Harry?”

    Harry glanced at his part-time housekeeper. Ginny Rondell, a plump, pleasant-faced woman in her late forties, hovered on the other side of the long granite counter that separated the kitchen from the living room of the high-rise condominium.

    “Yes, thank you, Ginny,” Harry said. “An excellent meal, by the way.”

    Molly Abberwick, seated on the black sofa facing the wall of windows, smiled warmly at Ginny. “It was fantastic.”

    Ginny's broad face suffused with pleasure. “Thank you, Ms. Abberwick. The tea is ready, Dr. Trevelyan. Are you sure you don't want me to serve it?”

    “Thanks, I'll handle it,” Harry said.

    “Yes, well, I'll say good night, then.” Ginny came around the edge of the long counter and trundled toward the green-marble-tiled hall.

    Harry waited with an unfamiliar sense of gathering impatience as Ginny opened a closet door and removed her purse. He waited while she put on her sweater. At last she let herself out through the front door.

    An acute silence fell on the condominium.

    Alone at last, Harry thought, wryly amused at his own eagerness. He hadn't felt this way in a long, long time. He could not even recall the last occasion. It had no doubt occurred at some point in his youth. He was thirty-six, but he had been feeling very ancient for the past eight years.

    “I'll get the tea,” he said as he got to his feet.

    Molly nodded. There was an expectant look in her wide, sea green eyes. Harry hoped the expression boded well for his plans for the evening. He had turned offboth phones for the night, an unheard-of course of action. Ginny had been astounded.

    True, he generally switched off the business line in the evenings or when he was engaged in intensive study, but he never threw the switch on the family line when he was at home. He was always available to both sides of his feuding clans.

    Harry got to his feet and walked to the granite counter. He picked up the tray containing the pot of tea and two cups. He had ordered the very expensive Darjeeling after having made it his business to discover Molly's personal preference. No sugar. No milk. Harry was good with details.

    Covertly, he studied Molly as he carried the tea tray to the glass table in front of the sofa. There was definitely an undercurrent of excitement stirring in her. He could almost feel it lapping at him in tiny waves. His own anticipation surged.

    Molly sat somewhat primly on the sofa, her attention caught by the lights of the Pike Place Market down below and the dark expanse of Elliott Bay. It was summer in the Northwest, and the days seemed to last forever. But it was after ten o'clock, and night had finally arrived. Along with it had come Harry's opportunity to begin an affair with his client.

    This was not the first time Molly had seen the sights from Harry's twenty-fifth-floor downtown condo. He worked out of his home, and Molly had come here often enough on business during the past month. But this was the first time she had ever seen the lights at night.

    “You have an incredible view from up here,” she said as he set the tea tray down on