Silent Fall

appeal to me. I want to soak it all in for a few days."
    Dylan didn’t see the lake the way she did, but he had always enjoyed Tahoe. For years he and Jake had come to the lake with friends or family members to escape the overbearing presence of their father, who luckily never left the city. Dylan wasn’t surprised Jake had wanted to get married here. It was a good start to his new life, although Jake and Sarah wouldn’t be staying long. They were taking a late-night flight to Hawaii to begin their honeymoon.
    "What about you?" Catherine asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you staying through the weekend?"
    "I leave in the morning."
    "Are you sure?"
    His gaze narrowed. "What does that mean?"
    Her dark blue eyes grew mysterious. "Do you remember what I told you about the two women entering your life, one bringing danger, the other salvation? I think it starts here."
    "What starts here?" he began, and then quickly backtracked. "You know what? I don’t want to know. I don’t believe in your psychic visions. I’m sorry. That’s just the way it is."
    "I understand," she said, raising her glass to her lips.
    He didn’t like the look in her eyes. He told himself to forget what she’d said. She was just trying to yank his chain.
    Someone took the seat on the other side of him. A waft of familiar perfume made his head turn. The brunette gave him a big smile. Damn, he was in trouble.
    Catherine leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Be careful, Dylan. She’s one of them."
    "Who’s the other one?" he asked as she got up and walked away. Catherine didn’t reply. He had a feeling he already knew the answer. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let her crazy words rattle him. His life was going great, and he didn’t intend to let anything or anyone change that.
    "We need to talk, Dylan."
    Dylan turned his head and stared into the bright brown eyes of a woman he’d never thought he’d see again, Erica Layton. Six weeks earlier they’d shared a night -- a rather drunken night, and one he preferred to forget. He didn’t usually sleep with his sources, and he shouldn’t have slept with Erica, but a late-night celebration had somehow landed him in bed with her. And now she was here with an expectant expression on her face. This couldn’t be good, and he didn’t need a psychic to tell him that.
    Erica handed him a glass of champagne.
    "What’s this?" he asked.
    "We’re celebrating your brother’s wedding. Cheers." Erica tipped her glass to his.
    He reluctantly took a sip. "What are you doing here? You weren’t on the guest list."
    "I’ve been calling you for the past two weeks, but you haven’t returned my calls," she complained.
    "I was busy."
    "You weren’t too busy for me when you needed my help."
    He sighed at the sharp tone in her voice. "I appreciate all the help you gave me, Erica, but if you were looking for something more, it’s not going to happen." He was surprised that he even had to tell her that. Their one encounter had been mutually satisfying, but certainly not the beginning of a relationship. And Erica had understood that. He would have sworn she’d understood. He never got involved with women who didn’t know the score.
    Erica frowned, and her face went from pretty and edgy to hard and brittle. There was a wild gleam in her eyes that made him uneasy. Was she on something?
    "We need to talk," she repeated.
    His gut twisted at the purpose in her words. A quick mental calculation reminded him that when a woman you’d slept with six weeks earlier suddenly wanted to talk, there was a good chance it had something to do with a baby. But they’d used protection. He’d been stupid to sleep with her, but he hadn’t been completely careless. Still, his niece, Caitlyn, was a prime example that condoms didn’t always work. He gulped down another swallow of his champagne.
    He did not want to have this conversation now. His career was flying. He’d just broken one of the biggest stories of his life. He was on the fast track to success. Everything was going as planned. The last thing he needed was a complication -- a baby. His glance drifted down Erica’s body. She looked as thin as ever in a short red cocktail dress that was now hitched up to mid thigh. Her legs were bare, her skin tan, her feet strapped into a pair of red stilettos. A sheer red scarf was draped around her