Eye of the Beholder

out to dinner solely to roil the seas of old gossip, there was an even more unpleasant possibility.
    Maybe Trask had invited her out to dinner in order to pump her for information on Lloyd. What better way to dig up inside data about one of his father's ex-partners than by dating said ex-partner's stepdaughter?
    Any way you looked at it, dinner with Trask was a dangerous proposition.
    It occurred to her that his scheme was potentially a double-edged sword. There was, after all, nothing to stop her from using the dinner invitation to do a bit of pumping herself. The more she knew about Trask and his plans for vengeance, the better positioned she would be to protect Lloyd.
    Her stomach suddenly felt disconcertingly weightless. She wondered if her former therapist, Dr. Ormiston , would approve of her new, high-risk lifestyle.

11

    The trip across the candlelit restaurant proved to be the longest trek Alexa had made since the day she walked out of the McClelland Gallery for the last time. The sudden hush that had fallen when Trask had escorted her through the doors of the Red Canyon Country Club soon gave way to a buzz of conversation that was just a bit too loud to be natural.
    She glanced at Trask as the waiter pulled out her chair. The cool amusement in his eyes told her that, unlike her, he had been fully prepared for the reaction to their presence in the club.
    This new, reckless approach to life might be all very well, she thought, but it was possible that she was playing out of her league. She probably stood a better chance of having an out-of-body experience during a Dimensions Institute seminar than she did of tricking Trask into spilling his dark secrets.
    "Don't let it get to you," Trask said as he opened the tasseled menu. "It's why we're here, remember?"
    She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. "You knew it would be like this, didn't you?" He looked up. "Do you want to go somewhere else?"
    It was a direct challenge, one she could not ignore. She straightened her shoulders and picked up the menu as though it were a gauntlet.
    "No, of course not," she said, trying to focus on the appetizers. "It would only make things worse if we got up and left now."
    "You're right," he said. "Trust me, the best way to handle this kind of scene is to ignore it."
    "I know." She thought about the grim days after the McClelland affair, when she had been the subject of every speculative tongue in the Southwest art world. "I have, as the saying goes, been here and done this before. I had rather hoped not to repeat the experience, however."
    He smiled faintly. "If it's any consolation, most of the people who recognized us when we walked in a few minutes ago are probably genuinely concerned about you."
    "Me?"
    His eyes did not leave her face. "I'm sure they're all wondering if I'm dating you because I've got some diabolical scheme to use you against Kenyon."
    She held his gaze. "Do you?" His smile took on a thin, lethal edge. "What do you think?"
    Folks who courted risks were supposed to be cool types, she reminded herself. "Let's just say I'm reserving judgment"
    "Hard to go wrong that way."
    "You sound as if you don't approve of that approach."
    "I was thinking that our relationship would function as a partnership," he said with a considering expression. "I was hoping for a measure of trust between us."
    "Trust?" She gave him amused disdain. "Don't talk to me about trust. You don't trust me any farther than you can throw me. You're still waiting for the reviews of your new art collection to hit before you decide whether or not I've defrauded you, remember?"
    There was a beat of silence. "You've made your point," Trask said finally. "Good."
    It was a small victory, but, she discovered, a heady one. It emboldened her. "By the way, you may be wrong."
    One dark brow climbed. "About what?"
    "About the possibility that everyone here tonight is concerned with your intentions toward me. I suspect that quite a few people may be wondering if I'm with you because I've got a deep, dark scheme of my own."
    His eyes gleamed. "Did you agree to go out with me in order to seduce me into agreeing to abandon my plans?"
    She felt herself turn very warm and was suddenly grateful for the low light level in the restaurant. "What do you think?"
    "I think it might be interesting from my point of view, but not particularly effective from yours."
    She dosed the menu with a smart snap. "Okay, we'll take it as a given that I can't talk any sense