Eye of the Beholder

dryly. "And he has strong feelings about Dimensions, don't you, Stewart?"
    A fervent gleam appeared in Stewart's eyes. "Dimensions changed my life."
    "Right." Dylan made a face as he turned back to Alexa. "But enough of the melodrama. Let's get to the important stuff."
    "Which would be?" Alexa asked politely.
    He rolled his eyes. "Don't act dense. It doesn't suit you. Obviously what everyone in town really wants to know is whether or not the rumors are true. "
    Alexa vowed to stand her ground as long as possible. "What rumors?"
    He grinned. "Did you and Trask really engage in a wild orgy in the spa at the new Avalon resort last night?"
    "Beats me," Alexa murmured. "It's been so long since my last orgy that I've forgotten what one looks like."

    At
five o'clock
that afternoon a large, dark shadow fell across the model of Stonehenge displayed in Alexa's front window. She paused in the act of turning over the closed sign and looked out at the trellised sidewalk.
    Trask stood there. In spite of all her best intentions she felt butterflies flutter in the pit of her stomach. He watched as she finished flipping the sign.
    Then he walked through the open door into the shop.
    "Can I assume that you spent your day the same way I did?" he asked without preamble.
    "That depends." Alexa put the sales counter between them. For some obscure reason the bulwark gave her confidence. "How did you spend yours?"
    "Getting warned off."
    "What a coincidence. That's exactly how I spent mine."
    He nodded. "For the record, how many people took the trouble to tell you that they'd heard about the brawl in the parking lot and the orgy in the spa and that it might not be a good idea for you to date me?"
    She leaned on the counter, held up one hand, and began to tick off her fingers. "Let me see, if you count the obscene phone call that I got last night..."
    His brows climbed. "You got a call?"
    "Some jerk stopped at one of the local convenience stores long enough to call me up and tell me that the dark vortices have been aroused."
    "Aroused, huh?"
    She beetled her brows at him. "Don't start. As I was saying, if you count the phone call, I guess the number of warnings I got would hover somewhere in the range of half a dozen."
    He wandered over to a large tapestry that featured a unicorn and a lady dressed in medieval garb. "How do you generally respond to that kind of thing?"
    "Getting warned off?" She sighed. "I realize everyone means well. But on the whole, I would have to say it annoys me."
    "Yeah. Me, too. The implication seems to be that one of us is a slave to passion and the other is a manipulative seducer who will not scruple to use sex to achieve his or her ends."
    She cleared her throat. "Have you detected a consensus concerning which one of us is the slave to passion and which one is the unscrupulous seducer?"
    "The betting at the moment is that you're passion's slave. I've got the other role."
    "Darn. I was afraid of that. It's not fair." He continued to contemplate the tapestry. "You don't care for the slave-to-passion part?"
    "Strikes me as an insult to my intelligence."
    "There is that." He turned away from the maiden and the unicorn scene to meet her eyes. "So, you want to go out to dinner again tonight and discuss the subject of who gets to play which role?"
    She drummed her fingers on the counter. "Might be better if we stuck to discussing our business arrangement."
    "Is that how you see our relationship?" He gave her an inquisitive look. "As a business arrangement?"
    Think: wild woman. "That's what it is, isn't it?"
    He was silent for a couple of counts. "I guess, when you get right down to it," he said, "that pretty much describes it."
    She was in control, she told herself. No problem. Obviously, the more risks you took, the better you got at it. She straightened briskly away from the counter.
    "Dinner sounds fine. My place. I'd like some privacy, and I don't think we'll get it at any restaurant in town."
    He gave her a knowing look. "Also, you want to be on your own turf this time, right?"
    "Yes." She gave him a bright smile that she hoped made it clear that she really was in control. "I want to be on my own turf this time."

16

    The soaring stone palisades that dominated the Avalon landscape glowed a brilliant orange-red in the fires of the dying sun. Trask walked to the edge of the patio, braced one foot on the low rock wall, and watched the night descend.
    He could not see Avalon Point from where he stood, but he knew