Zinnia (40 page)

Orrin charged into the room waving a copy of the
New Seattle Times.
His wife, Ella, was close on his heels. They were followed by two people Nick had never met.

Feather caught his eye. “Mr. Stanley Spring and his lovely wife, Wilhelmina, sir. Said it was important.”

“What is this all about?” Orrin demanded as he came to a halt in front of the desk. He shoved the paper toward Nick. “It says here that you're going to make a large investment in Chastain, Inc.”

Nick studied the headline in the business section.
Casino Owner to Fund Expansion of Chastain, Inc.
“This is old news. That headline was in
Synsation
yesterday.”

“Synsation
is just a cheap scandal sheet,” Ella snapped. “No one pays any attention to it.” She stabbed a beringed finger at the headline. “But this is the
Times
”

Nick leaned back in his chair. “It must be true, then. Assuming my money is good enough for Chastain, Inc., of course.”

Orrin scowled. The expression did not hide the reluctant hope in his eyes. “Are you serious about this?”

“Yes.”

Ella nodded, apparently satisfied. “I told you he would do his duty by the family, Orrin.”

“We'll have to talk,” Orrin muttered. “There's a lot to go over. This will change everything.”

“I'll have my secretary schedule lunch at the Founders' Club tomorrow,” Nick said.

Orrin blinked. “You want to have lunch with me at the Founders' Club?”

“I'm told that I'm still a member in good standing,” Nick said. “Apparently the club management has decided to overlook that little scuffle the other night at the ball. I understand that the Eatons and Miss Gardener did not want a fuss made.”

“Very gracious of them under the circumstances,” Ella said.

Nick was amused. “Very smart of them, you mean. For my part, I have graciously decided not to sue Eaton. Will there be anything else, Uncle Orrin? Aunt Ella? I'm a little busy at the moment.”

Ella frowned at the papers on the desk. “The story in the
Times
says you plan to sell the casino.”

“That's right. I'm starting a new career.”

“What sort of career?” Stanley demanded quickly.

“I'm going to become a business consultant.” Nick steepled his fingers. “My fiancée informs me that since I have a certain aptitude for making money, I might as well let other people pay me to show them how to do it, too.”

Wilhelmina eyed him with open speculation. “What about this expedition you're funding in conjunction with the University of New Seattle and the New Seattle Art Museum?”

Nick looked at her. “The Fourth Chastain Expedition
will depart in three months. The goal is to locate a large collection of alien artifacts that my father discovered thirty-five years ago.”

Stanley's brows shot up and down several times. “My nephew, Leo, says he's scheduled to join the team.”

“His training in Synergistic Historical Analysis and his strong psychometric-talent will prove invaluable in dating the relics.” Nick paused meaningfully. “And having his name on the monographs and books that will be written after the team returns should do wonders for his future career at the university.”

Orrin clasped his hands behind his broad back and began to pace in front of the desk. “You're throwing a lot of money around here, Nick. The investment in Chastain, Inc., funding the expedition, and now you say you're starting a new business.”

Nick smiled politely. “I have a great deal of money to throw around, Uncle Orrin. Don't worry, I won't go bankrupt with these projects. The sale of the casino will net several million.”

Wilhelmina exhaled deeply. “Very true. Very true.” She turned a steely gaze on Orrin and Ella. “We're planning a large wedding for Nick and Zinnia, you know. It will be the event of the season. I look forward to seeing you both there.”

Orrin looked taken aback. “Well, I suppose, that is, I don't—” He broke off and glanced at his wife for guidance.

“We wouldn't miss it for the world,” Ella said firmly. She traded looks with Wilhelmina. “Can we assume that this is an agency match?”

“My fiancée has always insisted that she would only marry if properly matched by a first-rate agency,” Nick said smoothly before Wilhelmina could respond.

“I see,” Ella murmured.

Nick examined each face in turn. They all knew
that the presence of the legitimate branch of the Chastain family at his wedding would set the seal on the acceptance of the bastard into both clans.

“I'm glad to see that no one has a problem with that,” he said finally. “If there are no more questions, I have some business to deal with here.”

“We're on our way,” Stanley said quickly. He took Wilhelmina's arm and steered her toward the door. “Business consultant, eh? That sounds interesting, doesn't it, dear?”

“It has a certain cachet,” Wilhelmina agreed. “He'll be dealing with some very influential people in town.”

Orrin snorted. “Business consultant? Hope you know what you're doing, Nick.”

“I always know what I'm doing, Uncle Orrin. I never work without a plan. By the way, I'll want to see your five-year plan for the future expansion of Chastain, Inc. before I hand over the investment cash.”

Orrin flushed. “Giving orders already, I see. I don't care how much money you put into the company, I'm the CEO of Chastain, Inc., and don't you ever forget it.”

“Don't worry,” Nick said. “The job's yours, Uncle Orrin. All I want from you is to see your smiling face and the faces of all the rest of my dear relatives at my wedding.”

“Now, see here, you can't just go about making demands,” Orrin huffed.

Ella took Orrin's arm. “We will all be at the wedding,” she said in ringing tones as she marched him to the door.

Nick watched them leave. When they were gone he heard the soft whir of the secret panel mechanism. He turned to see Zinnia lounging in the opening, arms folded. He felt the now-familiar leap of happiness.

“You heard?” he asked.

“Everything.” She shook her head, smiling. “You're
amazing, you know that? I'm beginning to believe your plan just might work. Five years from now no one's even going to remember that you once operated a casino and had no legitimate family connections. All anyone will care about is that you're the wealthy business consultant who funded the Fourth Chastain Expedition.”

He grinned. “Who says you can't buy respectability?”

* * * * * * * * * *

The scent of passion hung in the air of the darkened bedroom, hot and intoxicating. Nick inhaled deeply as he eased himself into Zinnia's snug inviting heat. She wrapped her arms fiercely around his neck. Her leg shifted, pressing against his thigh.

“Nick.”
She kissed his throat and then set her teeth delicately against his bare shoulder.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.” The words that had once been incomprehensible to his logical matrix mind were now the most important in the language.

There were other things he wanted to say to her, but they would have to wait. As always, when things got this intense between them, he could no longer think logically, let alone speak coherently. All he could do was feel.

And what he felt was indescribably satisfying. For the first time the matrix of his life was complete. Zinnia was his true mate, the other half of himself.

He sent out a questing tendril of talent. A perfect crystal-clear prism formed on the metaphysical plane.
He hurled a wave of power through it at the same moment that he felt Zinnia's body tightening around him.

Psychic energy fused for an instant with physical energy. In that split second Nick looked into chaos and saw that there was a pattern there, after all. A fabulous, glorious, indescribably beautiful pattern. He would never comprehend it completely, but that no longer mattered. It was enough to know the design existed and that he and Zinnia had a place in it.

The vision was gone in the next heartbeat. He did not try to recover it. He had glimpsed it and he would never forget it. He knew that Zinnia had shared it with him.

Her passionate response brought him back to the pleasures of the physical plane with a sweet vengeance. Nick heard his own exultant shout echo in the moonlit room. He lost himself in the shimmering matrix of happiness.

The phone rang half an hour later, just as Nick was about to drift off to sleep. “If that's your brother wanting to talk about the expedition plans again, I swear I'm going to wrap the phone around his neck.”

Zinnia chuckled and settled closer against his side. “Don't worry about it. The machine can take the message.”

Nick threaded his fingers through her hair. “I wasn't about to answer it.”

There was a click and a familiar voice came through the answering machine.

“Mr. Chastain? Hobart Batt here. I understand you can be reached at this number. I want to let you know that we've got our match.”

Zinnia sat straight up in bed. “What is that little twit talking about? If he thinks he's going to set
you up with an agency date, he can go jump in the bay.”

Nick smiled. “Take it easy.”

 

“You were absolutely correct about Zinnia Spring being a perfect match for you, Mr. Chastain. Per your request, I reactivated her old paperwork and there's no doubt about it. The syn-psych profile harmonizes extremely well with yours.”

 

“What?” Zinnia got to her knees and crouched over Nick. Her eyes gleamed in the shadows. “You never told me that you finished the registration process. And you paid Batt to reactivate my paperwork?”

“Couldn't resist,” Nick said.

 

“There are always some unknowns when one is dealing with a matrix-talent, of course. We went with your own estimate of class-ten-plus for you. Most unusual. But our records show that Miss Spring's form of paranormal energy is quite unique also. It was one of the things that made her impossible to match four years ago. From what I can tell, it appears that it will compliment your strong matrix attributes in some peculiar fashion.”

 

“Peculiar.” Zinnia grimaced. “Well, I like that.”

“Hey, I happen to like peculiar,” Nick assured her. “Especially in red.”

 

“I hope you're as delighted as I am that we've found you a suitable match, Mr. Chastain. I wish you the best of luck.”

 

There was a discreet pause and then Hobart cleared his throat.

“Can I assume that you are entirely satisfied?”

Nick stretched out a hand and picked up the receiver. His fingers brushed against the set of gold cufflinks he had left on the bedside table earlier when he had undressed. The cuff links had been a gift from Ella. Each was inscribed with an elegant
C
and the intial
B. “Your father's,”
she had explained.

“This is Chastain, Batt. Consider your debt to Chastain's Palace paid in full.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chastain.” Gratitude and relief vibrated in Hobart's voice. “You know, this is my second match between a very high-class talent and a full-spectrum prism in recent months. Most counselors don't see even one such match in their whole careers.”

“Is that a fact.” Nick stroked Zinnia's thigh.

“I'm starting to wonder if we've been functioning under some false assumptions concerning the synergism between strong talents and powerful prisms,” Hobart continued in a chatty tone. “The phenomenon of psychic energy in humans is so recent and it's evolving very swiftly. We may have a lot more to learn than we realized.”

“You may be working under some false assumptions, Hobart, but I know exactly what I'm doing.” Nick hung up the phone and started to pull Zinnia down into his arms.

She splayed her fingers across his chest. “Hold it right there, Chastain. What would you have done if it turned out that my old marriage-agency records did not spell out a good match between us?”

He smiled into her laughing, loving eyes. “I would have altered the records through the computer until they did show a perfect match. I'm a matrix-talent, remember? I've always got a plan.”

Also by Jayne Ann Krentz

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Sweet Fortune

Trust Me

Wildest Hearts

Written under the name Jayne Castle

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Zinnia