The Fatal Fortune Read Online Free PDF Page B

smile.
    "Who is he?"
    "The man on the elevator with me? His name is Rick Overstreet. I told you, he works at Gage and Watson. Want some more brandy?"
    "No."
    Zac hesitated and Guinevere held her breath, afraid he was going to ask more questions. But his strong, blunt fingers slipped inside the collar of her blouse instead.
    "No," Zac repeated, his voice darkening, as he began to unbutton the blouse. "What I really want at the moment, is you."
    Guinevere shivered again, but not from the tension connected with Rick Overstreet's name. This time it was strictly a result of the excitement that flared when Zac touched her.
    "Zac," she whispered, eyes luminous, as he slipped the blouse off her shoulders.
    "Come here," he murmured. "Give me something to think about besides my new secretary."
    Guinevere sighed softly and went into his arms with the hot, exciting sense of abandon that always swept over her when Zac made love to her. Locked safely in his massive embrace, she gave herself wholeheartedly, rejoicing in the love that was growing steadily between them. She would let nothing interfere with this new love, Guinevere vowed silently. She would protect it and nurture it and care for it as if it were a delicate plant. She would let nothing come between herself and Zac.
    The subject of Madame Zoltana came up spontaneously the next day during coffee break, when two of the women sharing the table with Guinevere and Francine Bates mentioned the psychic as they sat sipping their morning coffee. Guinevere was elated, because Zac had been singularly unhelpful in suggesting ways of steering the conversation in a specific direction. This was a stroke of luck, and it was the first break she'd had in her investigation. She tried to seize it without being too obvious.
    "It's absolutely incredible, even if it is just clever guessing," confided Mary Hutchins. "I didn't believe anyone could really know that kind of stuff about a person's past, until Ruth introduced me to Madame Zoltana. It was amazing. She knew about my husband's gallbladder operation. She told me Harold had just gotten a promotion, and could expect another one next year. She even knew that my mother-in-law was coming for a visit in the near future. Gives you the willies, when you think about it."
    "Are you going back for another appointment?" Guinevere asked.
    Mary hesitated. "I'm not sure. She told me last time she had to cut the session short because she was growing tired, but she promised me she could give me some helpful hints about decisions I'm going to have to make in the future, if I returned. The thing is, I don't really believe in this psychic nonsense, but this Madame Zoltana is—well, different than I expected. She really knows things. I'm not sure if I want to go back or not."
    "What can it hurt, Mary?" Francine Bates asked logically. "You might learn something useful, something that could help you."
    Ruth, the other woman at the table, bit her lip but said nothing. Guinevere wondered just exactly what Ruth had been told, and how often she was going to have to return to Madame Zoltana in order to keep her own personal secret from haunting her. Ruth reminded Guinevere a lot of Sally Evenson. There was that same fragile, uncertain air about both, as if they had been kicked in the teeth by life and were having a hard time recovering. Madame Zoltana was definitely not helping Sally, and Guinevere had a hunch she wasn't doing poor Ruth much good, either.
    "I don't know," Mary Hutchins was saying. "I'm not sure I like this psychic business. Going once for a lark was fine, but I don't think I'll go back. It was a little spooky, if you want to know the truth." She looked at Guinevere. "What about you? Are you into the psychic bit?"
    "I don't know," Guinevere said slowly, trying to sound convincingly uncertain. "I've never been to a psychic. It sounds fascinating, though." She turned to Ruth. "What do you think about this Madame Zoltana, Ruth?"
    Ruth gnawed on her lower lip