Mystical Love (79 page)

She smiled at the memory. She could still feel the kiss as if it had happened just a moment ago—the heady sensation, the swirls in the pit of her stomach, her blood racing through her heart and lungs like a runaway train.
His heart raced, too,
her ego added.
He might deny it, but he felt the connection.

Sonny's lips twitched at the thought. If nothing else, the kiss proved Logan Reed was a man who knew exactly what to do with a woman when he got her in bed. It was such a delicious thought that she sighed. Seconds later, the car braked to a halt in front of a rambling hacienda, and Logan addressed her.

“Do I have time to have a smoke before we go in?”

“Do cats have nine lives?” Sonny asked.

“Is the Pope Catholic?” he retorted.

“Do bears hibernate?” she queried.

“Does James Bond like his martinis shaken, not stirred?”

Sonny held up her hand. “Okay, okay, I give up. You win. You have time for a smoke.”

• • •

Grinning, Logan slid out of the car and fished in his shirt pocket. He hauled out his lighter and then a cigarette. Lighting the stick, he sent a perfect smoke ring wafting in the air. Being around the mouse was becoming habit-forming, and her tantalizing perfume was making it hell for him to keep her at arm's length. He put a brake on that thought at once. He couldn't, and wouldn't, allow himself to kiss the mouse again. If he kissed her, he'd start liking her, and no matter how good her lips tasted, mice spelled trouble with a capital “T.”

Lounging against the hood of the car, Logan studied the sidewalk leading away from the hacienda and down a hill. He caught sight of sparkling water and three colorful buildings. His gaze shifted to the joggers and power-walkers circling the lake's hiking path.

“Remind you of anything?” Sonny asked, lounging beside him.

“Disney World?”

“Very good.” A pointing finger obscured his vision. “Like parts of Epcot, the metaphysical complex is color-coded to help the guests,” Sonny said. “The north complex is Amethyst. It's purple. It houses the dream laboratory and classrooms. The west complex is Tranquility. It's blue and contains an open-air yoga stage, and reiki and massage therapy centers.” Her hand swung left. “The south complex is Green Arbor. It's green and contains the hypnotherapy lab and chambers. It's where Uncle Brad and Ned spend most of their time.”

Using his thumb, Logan signaled behind them. “And the path heading east?”

“It circles back to the hotel, which, as you know, is nestled against the mesa's hiking trails.”

“The hotel isn't The Sanctuary?” Logan asked in surprise.

“No, the entire five hundred acres is The Sanctuary. The hotel, villas, and time-share condos are designated as Casita Suites—each with their own décor and charm. It's where the guests reside. If they want to indulge in any of the New Age sessions, they come here to Serenity.”

Logan's gaze swung to the second-story balconies on their right. “And the terraces above us?”

“You'll see,” Sonny said, hoisting her frame from the hood and signaling him to follow her.

Logan dropped his cigarette and ground it beneath the heel of his boot. “Lead the way, Your Highness. Show me this Cinderella castle of yours.”

“It's not a castle. It's an office complex.”

“Still don't want me to see where you live, eh?” he said, trailing her to a set of steps. “Don't worry. I'll figure it out. After all, I am a detective.”

“You forgot obnoxious. You're an obnoxious detective,” Sonny stated.

“Whatever,” he drawled.

“I could use a two-hour nap,” Sonny said, as they climbed the hacienda steps side by side. Her fingers massaged her scalp. “It's been a long day. Out west, we always take an afternoon snooze.”

“I'm game if you are,” Logan responded, dodging her raised elbow. Her eyes widened as he grasped her arm and turned her towards him. Was the toad about to kiss her again? He was staring at her lips in a most alluring way, as if he found them the most fascinating thing since the creation of the world.
If he kisses you, you're a goner
, she thought.

He lowered his head, and Sonny ducked away quickly. Her wrist was suddenly snatched, and she was jerked back in front of him. He made no comment, just stared as if she had suddenly sprouted two horns on the top of her head. Annoyed, she counterattacked.

“What now? Is it time to kiss me again? I don't see the point since we have no audience.”

The hint of a smile teased his lips as he grabbed the back of her head and slowly drew her towards him. Before she knew it, his mouth was on hers, shattering her calm with a moist, sensual kiss.

Shock waves shook both their frames simultaneously, and to her horror, she tossed them into a colorful vortex, where, to her dismay, the see-through window effect swam into view. As if in a dream, the window took on a rosy hue, and Sonny saw two swaying bodies on a bed. The pair was engaged in hot sex, their lips moving across each other in sensuous exploration.

And then the image ramped up, sending her and Logan into a new, distorted vision. This time, Logan lay atop her, her hips lifting in unison with his steady, possessive thrusts. When the sex powered up, heading for a climax, Sonny tore her lips from Logan. The vision severed at once, leaving Sonny dizzy and Logan staring perplexedly at her.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. “And don't tell me you didn't see a couple having sex this time.”

“I saw it,” she answered, clutching her stomach. Her hand suddenly shot to her nose, expecting the usual nosebleed. When her hand came away dry, she frowned, glancing at her gloves. “I've never been thrown into a vision that wasn't initiated through my hands.” Her fingers shot to her dress pocket. “I suppose the Lovers card could've triggered the vision. Many authors of Tarot believe the cards are doorways, and if you meditate on them properly, you can enter the images. It's more likely that my system's so compromised it's caused my skills to go haywire.”

“This was an erotic image, not some replay of a damn shooting.”

“Well, I can't explain it at the moment,” Sonny said, exasperated by his tone. “I told you. Empathic abilities have a life of their own. It could be that kissing heightens them in a way I've never encountered before.”

“I thought you said you've been kissed plenty of times before.”

“I have. But I wasn't emotionally compromised then.”

His fingers took her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Do you think you're the only one emotionally compromised? Your kiss has put
me
into a tailspin.” He ran his fingers across her lower lip. “I wish I had time to take you to bed, but … ” He dropped her chin. “We have a job to do and little time to do it in.”

Sonny let out a reluctant sigh. Why was he making her think about reality instead of the euphoria coursing through her veins? He wanted to sleep with her; she wanted it too.
Later,
her ego advised,
when the stars align
. Sighing again, she reached around him and entered a key code in the door panel.

“We forgot to spill the sniper attack to the family,” she said, waiting for the tumblers to roll.

“I didn't forget. I changed my mind. I don't want them to know.”

Sonny made a face he couldn't see. “You really do think one of them killed Daddy, don't you?”

“Yes.”

She heard the tumblers roll. “I've known Ned and Uncle Brad all my life,” she said. “They're insensitive to the point of rudeness, but they just don't have it in them to kill anyone.”

“You're forgetting Pandora,” Logan reminded her, as the front door finally whooshed open.

“They don't know what it means,” Sonny said, hesitating on the threshold.

”Don't be so quick to assume. Many murders are family driven.”

“Ned isn't family,” Sonny remarked. “Besides, we aren't even sure whether the killer is male or female yet. Women have vicious streaks as well as men. Just pick up any newspaper and read the headlines.” She swiped the air. “'Woman kills best friend in fit of jealousy.' We need to worry about handling the press. I've seen what can happen when they rework a story into a nightmare of blistering headlines.”

Logan's expression darkened. “I know that feeling as well,” he said. He fell silent, and Sonny knew he was focused on something unsettling in his past. Was he remembering the cause of his bullet wound? Had there been glaring headlines surrounding the incident? She was sure there must've been, but she had no desire to learn what those headlines were. “Your aunt's reaction to my being here is flat-out hostile,” Logan continued. “As if my arrival has thrown her for a loop.”

“You're from Meta Corps,” Sonny told him, crossing the threshold. “And you've come without warning. There's nothing that pisses her and Uncle Brad off more than being left out of security matters.”

“Too easy,” Logan countered, following her into the alcove on the other side of the door. “She's protecting you like a mother hen. And don't say you haven't guessed that already.”

Sonny reached into her dress pocket and fingered the Tarot cards. How were the cards really related? Since Spirit tended to work in threes, it was possible the cards held one meaning in one scenario, a different in a second
.

Out of the blue, Sonny heard a familiar voice. “
Buenas tardes, querida Bienvenido a casa.”

Sonny stepped out of the alcove into a foyer decked out with an ornate side table and two vases of colorful roses. Two matching, ornate pots of plastic greenery peppered the rest of the foyer. Home, sweet home.

“Ay,
querida
, what have you done to yourself?” The pleasant voice was closing in. “You look like you haven't eaten in weeks.
No es bueno
.”

Sonny smiled at the chubby figure bustling towards them. “Don't fuss, Consuela,” she said, stepping down into the great room. She gave the woman a bear hug when she reached her. “I had breakfast at Rosita this morning.”

“Yogurt
no es
proper
desayuno
,” Consuela sniffed. “I fix you a dinner with
pollo
…
Madre Dios
… Who is the handsome
diablo
you've brought with you?”

Sonny winced at the question. Who
was
this handsome devil? She whirled, assessing Logan's face. Outside of his intimidating Meta Corps badge, she hadn't a clue.

Sonny studied Logan's face, surprised to find him surveying the room in front of him with a quizzical eye. Her lips twitched.

“Did I forget to mention Serenity is my home?”

“I think you mean the U.S. Treasury,” Logan drawled, finally coming down the steps into the spacious room. He studied the wall paintings, spotting a movie poster advertising
The Twilight Zone
. Amusement flickered in the eyes that met Sonny's. “A
Twilight Zone
poster? Really? An empath who loves science fiction?”

“I love Rod Serling, and watching
Twilight Zone
marathons on Syfy helps me to not take myself so seriously.”

Logan chuckled. “You continue to amaze me, Sonny.”

“Is that a good thing?” she queried.

“I don't know yet,” he said, then cut off the rest of his sentence as the housekeeper bustled towards him, clucking in half English, half Spanish.

“
Como se llama, mi querido?
” she asked when she reached him.

“Logan,” he answered quickly, surprising Sonny with his understanding of the question.

“Aye, querido, you
es
my
bebé'
s
enamorado
.” Her gaze found Sonny. “The hotel deliver
su enamorado
's luggage a few minutes ago. I put him in the suite next to yours. I fix you both nice, romantic dinner tonight,
sí
?”

Sonny hedged quickly. “We won't have time for dinner, Consuela. Some of your delicious chicken tortilla wraps will do.” She headed towards a carpeted staircase. “We'll eat them in the computer room while we're working.”

“
No es bueno
that you work so hard,” Consuela chided. Her look latched on to Logan. “You
hacer el amor con este hombre
and have
muchos bebés,
no
? He
es muy atractivo
. You have many
bella
bebés con él
.”

Sonny blushed at the housekeeper's words. “Mr. Reed is a detective,
no es mi enamorado
.”

The housekeeper clucked loudly. “
Lo siento mucho, querida
,” she said. “He look like he
hacer el amor muy bien
.”

Sonny's cheeks turned scarlet. It was bad enough when her own mind thought Logan probably knew how to make love really well, but to hear her housekeeper voice such an erotic thought was, well, embarrassing.

Signaling Logan, she finished crossing to the staircase and began climbing rapidly to the second floor. Reaching the top of the steps, she made a beeline for a set of French doors and threw them open. Her thoughts switched quickly to business mode, as a familiar, cool breeze hit her face. She studied the giant TV screen covering the west wall.

“The afternoon financials are already in. Tokyo took a whopper of a hit today. No cause yet.”

Sonny intended to peruse the data but halted mid-stride when she realized Logan hadn't followed her into the room. Whirling, she saw his eagle eye was at work again—raking in the enormity of the room and all its marvelous gadgets.

“You could've told me you own half the stock exchange and all of Wall Street,” he drawled.

“I thought you did your homework on me before coming,” Sonny said, unfazed by his sarcasm. She waved at the mammoth ticker-tape machine flashing numbers and percentages across its banner on the far wall. “Surely Meta Corps knows how rich the Blake family is. We have spiritual retreats all around the world, and we've spent millions building a financial network that rivals CNBC.”