The Adventurer

yelling, I'm outta here. Understand?"
    "Don't bother issuing threats, Sarah. You've already got me tied up in knots. There's not a whole lot more you can do to me."
    She reached across the table and impulsively put her hand on his. "Gideon, I'm sorry. Please believe me, I'm only trying to do what's best for both of us."
    He eyed her laconically. "Sorry's not good enough, remember? You told me that, yourself."
    She flushed and took her hand off his. She stared unseeingly down at the chess pieces. "I get the feeling this is going to be a perfectly miserable experience."
    "Must be your intuition at work again."
    But it really wasn't all that bad, Sarah decided two hours later. Gideon proved to be a surprisingly patient instructor, in spite of his veiled threats. At one point Machu Picchu lumbered over to take up a position in a nearby armchair and Ellora curled up beside him. The two cats supervised Sarah's progress with placid expressions.
    "Not bad for a sex object," Gideon said finally. "I think you've got possibilities as a chess partner."
    Sarah's head came up swiftly, unsure if he was teasing her. Gideon's eyes held a rare spark of humor, however, so she gave him a saucy smile. "Does that mean I have some practical uses, after all?"
    "I could think of ways in which you'd be infinitely more useful."
    Sarah got to her feet and went around the table to kiss him lightly on the cheek. "Good night, Gideon."
    "Sarah?"
    "Yes?" She halted at the foot of the stairs, her attention caught by something in his tone. She looked back and saw that he was toying with one of the chess figures.
    "Never mind." Gideon put down the chess piece and reached for the brandy decanter. "Go to bed."
    She went on up the stairs, Ellora trotting at her heels. Machu Picchu stayed behind, apparently feeling obliged to offer silent masculine support to the other male in the household.
    Sarah lay awake a long time waiting for the sound of Gideon's footsteps in the hall. She did not go to sleep until after she heard him climb the stairs and go past her room to his own.
     
    T HE FOLLOWING DAY Sarah awoke to a world of infinite gray. The morning fog blanketed everything just as a strange feeling of uneasiness shrouded her normally exuberant emotions.
    She looked out the window and realized she could not even see the beach. She was not usually depressed by fog. In fact, as a writer, she generally found it curiously exciting and even inspiring. But this morning was different.
    She felt moody and restless. It was as if she sensed something ominous hovering out there in the fog.
    But it made no sense to feel this way, she told herself as she showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater. Last night had gone rather well, all things considered. Gideon had seemed content to teach her chess and she had taken his interest in doing so as a good sign. He was trying to find other avenues of communication.
    So why was she feeling so strange this morning?
    Out in the hall she saw that the door to Gideon's room was half-open but all was quiet inside. Machu Picchu appeared in the opening and Ellora skipped forward to greet him. He touched noses with her and then stalked past Sarah as if she didn't exist. Sarah had the unsettling feeling that the big cat had somehow adopted Gideon's attitude toward her. When Ellora offered a silent apology for her companion's behavior, Sarah smiled.
    "Don't worry about it," she told the small cat. "I understand. Men are very stubborn at times, aren't they?"
    She followed the cats downstairs and went into the kitchen. The old Victorian lacked any semblance of cheerfulness today, even after she got the drapes open. Everything was dark, cold and depressed-looking. None of her plans for sprucing things up appealed this morning. Sarah tried to come up with some interesting ideas for breakfast but failed.
    The fog hung heavily outside the window, drawing her in some strange way. Part of her longed to lose herself in the physical manifestation of the moodiness that seemed to have engulfed her during the night.
    Intuition was sometimes a curse, especially when one didn't know how to interpret the vague warnings it was giving out. Sarah realized she wanted to go for a walk.
    Without questioning the impulse, she found her windbreaker and let herself out into the chilled morning air. A few minutes later she was on the long, craggy beach below Gideon's house. She started walking, her hands thrust deeply into her pockets. The fog ebbed and swirled