Raina watched Matthias sweep Amalie around the corner. When they had disappeared down the stairs that led to the main floor of the club, she picked up her cocktail glass and looked at Luther.
“An unusual couple,” she said. “It’s safe to say that Mr. Jones is more than simply attracted to Miss Vaughn. I get the feeling that he is nothing short of fascinated by her. The feeling appears to be mutual. I swear I could feel the energy crackling in the atmosphere around them.”
“I always knew that if Matthias ever encountered a woman who could handle his somewhat unnerving talent, he would probably fall hard for her.”
“You said he has a knack for detecting lies.”
“It’s more than a knack. It’s a gift or a curse, depending on your point of view. It has certainly complicated his personal life. But it is also what makes him an invaluable consultant for Failure Analysis.”
“Do you really believe that he might have some sort of psychic power?”
“I don’t believe in paranormal energy,” Luther said. “But I am convinced that some people possess unusually powerful forms of intuition. I hire them when I can find them and when I am certain that I can trust them.”
“Where is the dividing line between the ability to make an intuitive leap and true paranormal talent?”
Luther smiled. “I have no idea.”
The heat in his eyes sent a little thrill of awareness through her. She was still adjusting to the relationship, still wondering if what she and Luther were discovering together was real and if it would last.
Long ago she had abandoned her girlish dreams of finding love and passion. When she had arrived in Burning Cove, she had thrown herself headfirst into her new career as a private investigator. Her business was starting to pick up and she had discovered a passion for the work. But just when it appeared that she had successfully buried her past and could focus on her future, Luther Pell had walked into her life.
The feelings he aroused had caught her off guard. When she realized that he had guessed the truth about the death of her former employer, she had panicked. When he made it clear that he did not care about what had happened in New York, she was unnerved. And then he had taken the amazing step of revealing some of his own dark history. It was, she reflected, a strange way of cementing a relationship.
She watched Matthias guide Amalie onto the crowded dance floor. Even from the mezzanine it was clear that the pair were intensely aware of each other.
“Why does his ability to detect lies make his life more difficult?” she asked. “I would have thought that it would give him a tremendous edge. Just imagine, no con artist could fool him. No lover could deceive him. No friend could betray him.”
“One night after Matthias and I had a couple of drinks he tried to explain the problem to me,” Luther said. “He told me that, for him, the world is awash in lies. He said people lie even when they think they are telling the truth, because the minute they start to speak they are, in fact, telling a story, not just to the listener but to themselves. In order to convey information we must use words, and we must string those words together in a way that makes sense. According to Matthias, that means we are always using words to shape the truth.”
Raina shuddered. “How does Matthias differentiate between that sort of storytelling and genuine deception?”
“Intent is everything as far as he is concerned.”
Raina took a sip of her Manhattan. “Romantic relationships are complicated for everyone, but they must be extremely difficult for people like Matthias.”
“I think he has survived by keeping a certain distance between himself and the women with whom he becomes intimate.”
“Because he feels he can’t trust anyone?”
“No,” Luther said. “Because his talent makes others, especially lovers, very, very nervous.”
“It would certainly be challenging to date a man who was forever assessing and analyzing every word that came out of your mouth.”
“As well as every action, every gesture, every expression,” Luther added. “Matthias’s intuition picks up on visual cues as well as words. Nobody who knows him well will risk playing poker with him.”
“All of which makes his obvious interest in Miss Vaughn even more curious.”
Luther studied the couple on the dance floor. “I get the impression that he feels he can trust her.”
“Trust always requires a leap of faith. How could someone with Matthias’s talent ever be persuaded to take that leap?”
“I’m no psychiatrist but I have a hunch that the fact that Matthias can, occasionally, bring himself to trust another person is his salvation. It is probably what has kept him sane.”
Raina watched the dancers glide and sway beneath the jeweled shower of lights cast by the mirror ball and thought about the man who sat so close beside her. She had known Luther Pell long enough to realize that he was every bit as dangerous and mysterious as the rumors that swirled around him claimed. He really did have mob connections. Now she had discovered that he had spent years in the shadowy world of espionage. Survival in both realms required a wide streak of ruthlessness and a talent for deception. Neither world inclined one toward taking the risk of trusting others.
But she had also viewed his paintings. Luther’s landscapes of the California coast were boiling cauldrons of violent energy—stormy and disturbing. She had a hunch that they were inspired at least in part by his experiences in the Great War but she suspected they were also fueled by the shadows deep inside him, shadows that she sensed were a basic part of his nature.
Luther Pell was not the kind of man a good girl took home to introduce to Mom and Dad. But she was not a good girl. She crossed a line when she left her previous job as a secretary in a prestigious New York law firm. As for her parents, they had been dead for years, victims of the terrible flu epidemic of 1918. She did not have to introduce Luther to anyone. She did not need to explain him to anyone. All she had to do was decide if she could take the risk of loving him.
She turned away from the view of the dance floor and found Luther watching her. The look in his eyes told her that he had guessed her thoughts and was waiting for her to come to her decision.
She hardly knew this man. And yet—
She reached up and touched the side of his jaw with her fingertips.
“I trust you,” she said.
He caught her hand. His fingers closed tightly around hers.
“I trust you,” he said.