Orchid by Jayne Castle Page A

“Doesn’t it get to be a little overpowering when you’re in a crowded room or when you take out the garbage?”
    Rafe felt an uncomfortable warmth suffuse his face. It had been a lot of years since he had been acutely embarrassed by a woman. Luckily Orchid could not see his face at that moment.
    “The sense of smell is different when it’s augmented by paranormal energy,” he said stiffly. “It doesn’t translate quite the same way on the metaphysical plane.”
    “Oh. Well, what about that other sense you mentioned? The one you called something else?”
    He hesitated, his fingers on the trap door release. He wondered why she had chosen that moment to start asking personal questions. “It doesn’t have a name. I can’t describe it except to say that it’s a sort of awareness.” Hunter’s intuition.
    “Interesting.”
    “Will there be any other questions before I try to open this damned trapdoor?”
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get personal.”
    He wrapped his hands around the lever and raised it cautiously. There was a squeak of steel hinges. A rush of air followed. An instant later, emergency lighting from a cramped stairwell flooded into the gallery.
    “You did it.” Orchid hurried to the opening. “My God, you really did it. You found the exit.”
    “Like they say, everyone has some talent, however small.” Rafe got to his feet and moved past her into the stairwell. “If I know crypto-talents there will be an emergency switch for the siren right around here somewhere.” He spotted the green lever immediately. “Right. Here we go.”
    He slammed the lever upward. The uncomfortable whine finally ceased.
    “What a relief.” Orchid gripped the edge of the steel door frame and sagged wearily against it. “Tell me, does this sort of thing happen a lot to you in the course of your private investigation work?”
    “No.” In the eerie green light of the emergency fixture he could see the tense, drawn expression in her eyes. He had been very careful to involve her only in cases that held little or no possibility of physical danger.
    But after what had just happened, she might very well refuse to work with him again.
    A frisson of dread swept through him. Maybe she wasn’t exactly what he was looking for in a wife. But what if he never saw her again?
    Rafe took a step forward. Reached out to touch her shoulder. “Orchid? Are you okay?”
    “Yes, of course.” She smiled weakly. “Just give me a minute. You’d better see to poor Mrs. Turlock.”
    “I’ll get her.” He made to step past Orchid and then hesitated. “Look, I’m sorry. I never thought anything like this would happen.”
    “Of course you didn’t. Hey, don’t give it another thought. I’m fine, really.” She straightened and moved determinedly away from the door frame. “Actually, it was all quite fascinating. I must admit, working with you is never dull.”
    “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
    Her smile brightened. Amusement replaced the strain in her smoky green eyes. “And you did rescue us from that horrible place.”
    “Least I could do.”
    “It was rather impressive, to tell you the truth. I was afraid we’d be trapped in there until someone from Mrs. Turlock’s household staff returned.”
    “You don’t have to remind me that you had your doubts about my ability to get us out.”
    She grinned. “Next time I promise to have a little more faith in your strat-talents.”
    Relief rushed through him. “Next time?”
    “Sure. You know, I think I may have a flair for the private investigation business.”
    An hour later, Rafe drove home with the leer’s window down. He needed the brisk, bracing night air to clear his senses. He was still brooding over Orchid’s remark.
    A flair for the private investigation business.
    What if the only thing she saw in him was an opportunity to play private detective?
    He absently noted the small, dark compact parked at the curb as he waited for the gates to his driveway to