Jayne Castle - Bridal Jitters

"Drummond tried to kill us," Sam said without inflection. "My guess is he's our Halloween trickster."

"The one who left that trap on our doorstep last night?"

"Yeah. Someone must be paying him very well to sabotage Ewert's map team. The guild frowns on that sort of thing. Bad public relations."

"Especially now when the guild is trying so hard to build a good public image." Virginia scrambled awkwardly to her feet. She glanced down, half-expecting to find scorch marks on her trousers. She saw nothing but a few new wrinkles. She looked up again. "Sam, you must be exhausted."

"Not yet. The afterburn is still kicking in. The buzz will last for about an hour. Then I'm going to have to crash for at least two or three hours. No way to beat it."

She nodded. The syndrome was well-known. Ghost-hunters who expended large amounts of psi energy needed time to recover.

Sam studied the corridors that branched off in different directions behind her. "We need to find a place where we can hole up for a while. In an hour I'm going to be asleep, like it or not."

She glanced around. "Why can't we just stay here? No one else is going to come through that waterfall."

"Probably not," Sam agreed. "But that's not what's got me worried."

"Well? What is worrying you? Aside from the fact that Drummond just tried to nail us?

"It occurs to me that whoever hired Leon Drummond to keep Mac Ewert from making any progress in this corridor may be working illegally on this side of the waterfall."

Virginia widened her eyes as understanding hit her. "Yes, of course. An illegal excavation project on this side would explain a lot. But if you're right, we could run into Drummond's pals any minute."

"I'd say that's a definite risk." He started toward her. "Come on, we've got to find a place to hide until I can sleep off the afterburn."

"There are bound to be some chambers or rooms we can duck into for a few hours," she said. "All we have to do is pick one that doesn't look like it's been charted yet. Odds are no one will find us during the next few hours. Heck, I doubt if anyone will even come looking for us. Drummond must think we're dead. He'll no doubt report that we got reckless, got ourselves fried by that waterfall, and that the firm of Gage & Burch is out of business."

"True. He can't have any way of knowing that we survived. All the same, I don't want to take any more chances than necessary." Sam looked at her. "We haven't got a lot of time."

The prowling urgency in him worried her. She opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but the words got caught in her throat. He was only a short distance away now. For the first time since they had come through the waterfall, she got a close look at his eyes. What she saw there stilled her breath for a few seconds.

Hot, intense, brilliant; sexual desire, elemental and dangerously compelling, blazed in his eyes. His gaze literally glittered with what, in any other circumstances, she might have mistaken for the first evidence that he felt a degree of genuine passion for her.

Adeline's question came back to her in an uncomfortable rush. "So, is it true what they say about ghost-hunters? Are they really amazing in bed after they've zapped a ghost? I've heard the sex is unbelievable right after a burn.

What she saw in Sam now, she realized, was no more than the aftereffects of a massive expenditure of ghost-hunter psi talent. Chemically speaking, it was the result of a combination of testosterone, adrenaline, and the potent biological cocktail his paranormal powers had dumped into his bloodstream.

Nothing personal, she reminded herself. He wasn't attracted to her, per se. It just happened that he was rezzed for sex, and she was the only female in sight. Anything in skirts would probably do just fine for him at that moment.

"Uh, Sam? Are you okay?"

"No." He went past her, heading for the first branching corridor. "Let's get moving."

He was freaking her out. He knew it, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Hanging on to his self-control required every shred of what little willpower he could muster. Getting them both safely through the waterfall had required more power than he'd ever used in his life; more than he'd known he possessed. He did not intend to tell Virginia the truth: that it had been damned close. They had made it, but in the process he'd poured so much psychic wattage through his amber that he'd destroyed the resonating properties of the precision-tuned stone. Melting amber meant you'd pushed the envelope. There was always a price to pay.

He'd experienced the sexual buzz that often occurred after a major burn before. In the past, he'd always felt fully in control of the predictable arousal. But this time things were different. It wasn't just that the burn had been bigger; the real problem was that this time, he was alone with Virginia, the woman he'd been lusting after for nearly two months.

He was in the grip of a feverish desire that was all the worse because he had worked so hard to suppress and conceal it.

All right, so he had a major hard-on. Just a few rampaging hormones. So what? He wasn't a kid. He could control himself. He had to control himself. If he lost it now, he would probably terrify her and turn her against him forever. Any chance he had with her would go up in smoke.

He tried to concentrate on moving ahead down the corridor, searching the walls for the barest hint of illusion energy that would indicate a hidden chamber they could use. All of the rooms that had ever been discovered in the corridors had been found sealed with illusion traps. If they could find a sealed room that looked as if no one else had ever de-rezzed the trap that guarded it, Virginia could unseal it, and they could hide inside for a few hours.

Simple. All he had to do was concentrate and not think about the fact that she was only a few inches away.

"Sam, you're shivering." Virginia touched his forehead with gentle, questing fingers. "Good heavens, you're burning up. You must be running a temperature. Is this normal?"

"Damn it, don't touch me. ' He closed his eyes briefly and drew a deep breath. Great. Now he was snapping at her. "We'll both be sorry if you do."

She frowned; not with fear or trepidation but with a concern that horrified him. If she started in with the sweet, nurturing stuff, he was doomed.

"This can't be normal," she insisted. "I think that burn must have made you ill."

"Trust me, it's normal," he said through set teeth. "A little intense, but normal."

He could not screw up and lose control. Not now. It was crucial that he did not scare her to death. Because maybe, just maybe, he really had heard her say "I love you' in those few seconds before he carried her through the waterfall.

"Slow down, Sam, I can't keep up with you."

He realized that he was loping down the corridor as he raked the walls for telltale signs of illusion dark. "Sorry." He forced himself to slow somewhat.

"It's okay. Let me worry about finding a trapped chamber. We're back into my field of expertise now." She moved out ahead of him. "I think I see something up ahead. Yes, I can feel it."

He tried but he did not pick up the psychic tang of illusion dark. "I don't feel a damn thing."

"Probably because your para-senses are temporarily over-rezzed. But I'm sure there's something up there." She broke into a quick trot. "Positive. And it's big. A big trap usually indicates a large chamber. Maybe we'll luck out and find a palace. They always have lots of little antechambers around them. Plenty of places to hide."

He hoped she was right. Beneath the clawing surge of sexual need and the rush of the burn buzz, he thought he could detect the first warnings of the crash that would soon follow. He could not afford to collapse here in the open corridor. Not when there was a possibility that Leon Drummond's cohorts might be in the neighborhood. He had to stay on his feet long enough to make sure Virginia was safe.