Witchcraft

out on Kim. Something tells me she can handle it. Go release some of that tension with her. Since everyone on the place already assumes you've taken her to bed, you might as well go ahead and do it." Cavenaugh slanted his friend a violent glance. "Your theories on handling a woman like Kim leave me gasping in amazement." He scooped up the manuscript pages of Vendetta and shoved them across the desk. "Want to find out what women really want in a man? Here, read this."
    "What's this?"
    Curiously Starke picked up the pages and leafed through them. "Part of the book Kim's working on at the moment. Pay particular attention to Josh Valerian." Starke looked up. "Why?"
    "Because he's Kimberly's ideal man." Starke grinned, one of his rare, wolfish grins. "I take it you don't fit the role of Josh Valerian?"
    "Valerian enjoys total communication with the heroine," Cavenaugh said dangerously. "He always seems to know what she's thinking, how she's feeling. What's more, he understands her thoughts and feelings perfectly."
    "So? What's so tricky about that? You've always been good at reading other people. Don't you have a pretty fair idea of what Kim's thinking a lot of the time?"
    "Yes.
    Unfortunately, it doesn't do me a lot of good." Cavenaugh moved around his desk to grab his suede jacket. "Why not?"
    "Because I don't always agree with or approve of what she thinks or the way she thinks." Starke gave him a mildly astonished look. "Why should you. You're a man.
    She's a woman. How could you possibly react the same way to everything?" Cavenaugh smiled wryly as he pulled on the jacket. "You know, Starke, you have a way of going straight to the heart of the matter. You're absolutely right. Why should I worry about not being Josh Valerian? Kim's an adult female. She doesn't need some mystical other half of herself. She needs a man."
    "You."
    "Damn right." Cavenaugh paused as something crinkled in his jacket pocket. He removed the folded, buff-colored envelope from the L.A. law firm. "Valerian isn't the only obstacle in my path right now." He handed the envelope to Starke. "See what you can find out about this situation, will you?
    I want to talk to one of those lawyers."
    "You're going after Kim now?"
    Starke accepted the envelope. "Thought I'd work off some of this excess tension you're complaining about," Cavenaugh muttered, striding for the door. "By yelling at her or by taking her to bed?" At the door Cavenaugh turned, green eyes narrowed in a way Starke had learned to respect over the years. "I thought I'd try a little of each. See which method works best." "Probably the second one," Starke said quite seriously. Cavenaugh slammed the door of the study and stalked down the hall to the door that opened onto the garden.

CHAPTER FIVE.
    The building was nothing more than a storage shed tucked into the base of a hillside full of vineyards. But standing isolated and out of sight of the main house, it made an inviting refuge. When Kimberly spotted the shed after passing the forbidden rock wall she made straight for it. The day was deceptively moderate, considering the season. She'd only taken a light jacket with her when she left the house and after a few minutes of walking through the vineyards she had removed that. Alone at last, she thought wryly, as she curiously plucked open the shed door and peered into the dark interior. She had realized this morning that if she didn't get away for a while she was liable to say or do something that would definitely border on the rude. And heaven knew she didn't really want to risk that. Although the Cavenaugh household was overwhelming, she liked its various and assorted members, even the perpetually visiting Ariel, who was constantly reading tea leaves, casting horoscopes or prescribing herb teas. She and Aunt Milly made quite a pair, Kimberly decided. Currently they had undertaken to plan a party. Julia was also involved, and when it looked as though they were all going to commandeer Kimberly, too, she had fled. She had finally reached a point where she needed to be alone for a while. It was pleasantly warm inside the shed. Leaving the door swinging open on its hinges, Kimberly idly poked around amid the odd tools, stacked boxes and assorted equipment. Sunlight trickled through the cracks and chinks in the old wooden walls, providing a fuzzy sort of light here and there.
    Kimberly was examining an old leather harness, wondering what had happened to the horse who had worn it, when she became