Heart Dance by Robin D. Owens

Author:Robin D. Owens
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Berkley Sensation

Nineteen

"Thank you." She gave him her sweetest smile. He frowned harder. Well, she didn't have much in the way of sweet smiles. Tilting her head, she said, "Don't you think it's counterproductive to your own studies to inflame gossip about the Thymes?"

He grunted. "I'm not doing anything illegal."

She didn't believe that for an instant. She scanned the room. His equipment was the finest, his long table less scarred and his papers and memoryspheres organized tidier than hers. She went to the table, put her pursenal down in a suspiciously empty spot the size of a standard no-time, and leaned against it, watching him.

"What do you want?" he muttered.

"I want you to stop the nasty talk once more making the rounds about my Family." It took all her control to look relaxed.

"Too late, even you should realize that, and the wonderful thing about such talk is that it isn't rumors, it's fact." He grinned, and she noted one of his eyeteeth overlapped another. Since that was a matter easily corrected, he must have had a preference for keeping it that way.

Mist parting.

A young woman laughed, Dufleur could swear she felt the vibrations in the table, but instead she recognized time gathering around her—more motes in this laboratory than usual, even in her own. Had he been in the middle of an experiment when she'd knocked on his door? If so, why had he let her in?

"Angusti, your mouth is sooo luscious," the woman said.

Dufleur blinked, and a younger, fitter Agave grinned past her.

"My new table needs to be initiated. It has some wonderful built-in spells," he said. He was aroused.

Dufleur jerked to stand straightly, letting go of the table. Her Flair wasn't for telemetry, sensing emotions from objects. The time eddies . . .

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Surprised, she stared at her own hand. She'd been stroking the table, feeling the saturation of time within it, affecting it. She wrenched her fingers from his grasp, returned to her insolent pose of leaning against the table.

"What did you just learn?" he snapped.

She lifted a shoulder. "You know how time is. A little glimpse into the past."

He stared at her. Then said, "Your father meddled with forces he didn't understand and blew himself and his Residence up." He grunted again. "You and your mother were lucky to get out alive."

Now her grim smile was back, with teeth. "Like this place, our laboratory was attached to one side of the building." Her grip went tight on the table edge behind her.

"I'm not going to have any ‘accidents,'" he said.

"My father knew what he was doing. He was twice the scientist you are. Three times," she said.

Color came to his cheeks, his nostrils widened, but he only said, "You can't know that. You don't know me or my work."

"I can extrapolate. A man who is secure in his own theories doesn't go spying on others."

His lip curled. "You can't prove that."

She lifted her own brows. "No?"

He shrugged. "No. If you could have,

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