Dark Perception: The Corde Noire Series by Alexandrea Weis

is
that written in stone?”
    He directed his attention to the
champagne bottle. “It’s not, but whenever my ex-wife and I moved
into a new house, she would always unpack the kitchen
first.”
    “ Did you and your ex-wife
move a lot?”
    He wrapped the towel around
the cork. “In our six years together we lived in one condo and two
houses. When we divorced, she kept the house in Raleigh and I moved
down here.” A slight pop rang out as he pulled the cork free.
    “ Do you stay in touch with
her?”
    “ I have to. Yvette, my ex,
still owns half the assets in a few of my business ventures up in
North Carolina.” He carefully poured the champagne into the crystal
flutes on the bar. “I know what you’re thinking.”
    “ What is that?”
    He set the bottle on the bar. “Why did
I get divorced?”
    “ I already know
why.”
    Nathan arched a dark eyebrow. “You saw
that in a vision or felt it from me?”
    “ Neither.” She admired the
golden champagne in her glass. “Like most relationships, I figured
it just didn’t work out.”
    “ I forgot about the
mystical power of the obvious.” He collected his glass from the
bar. “So what do you think of my haunted building?”
    “ There’s a woman in that
storage room at the end of my hall, a man in chains is in the
lobby, and the music selection in your elevator is probably keeping
them from ever wanting to haunt there.”
    Nathan almost spit out the champagne
in his mouth and his boisterous laughter reverberated throughout
the living room. Melinda took a sip from her champagne, pleased by
his reaction.
    “ Last year, I had two
psychics go through this building,” he told her. “They picked up
the guy in the lobby, but never mentioned a woman in this
apartment. And no one has ever had the courage to tell me about the
elevator music.”
    Melinda placed her drink on the bar.
“Did you know about the ghost in this apartment?”
    Nathan shook his head. “I never
encountered anything here. I stayed in this apartment last year
when they were redecorating my penthouse.”
    “ You should have told me
about your building, Nathan.”
    “ I didn’t want to frighten
you. I figured you, above all people, would be fine living with
ghosts.”
    “ I’m a psychic, not a
medium.”
    He set his glass on the bar. “Is there
a difference?”
    “ Different people see
different things. I do better with future events and emotions. I
don’t like talking to the dead.”
    “ But you can do it?” His
voice rose, showing his excitement. “Talk to the dead.”
    She turned away and went to the sofa
in the living room. Tucking her feet underneath her, Melinda
sighed. “Yes, I can see the dead and hear them, if I want
to.”
    Nathan followed her to the sofa. “So
why don’t you want to?”
    Melinda rubbed her hands together,
evading Nathan’s curious gaze. “I never saw dead people until … my
mother. After she shot herself in our barn, I kept seeing her
around the farm. I was too afraid to say anything, but my
grandmother knew something was wrong. Grandma Teresa told me if I
didn’t wish to speak to the dead, I had to tell them to go away and
leave me alone.” Melinda paused and took a deep breath as the pain
of her past pressed against her heart. “So the next time I saw
Momma, I told her to go away. Initially, she didn’t do anything,
then she smiled at me and slowly faded from view. For days after, I
cried into my pillow, wishing I had not sent her away. After that,
I decided I was never going to speak to the dead again.”
    Nathan curled his arm around her
shoulders. The gesture was meant to comfort her, but to Melinda,
the feel of him, the warmth of his body, even the scent of his
cologne overwhelmed her. Her mind exploded with visions of his
naked body next to her, holding him close as his hands explored
every inch of her.
    “ How old were you when your
mother committed suicide?”
His voice brought Melinda back. Was she seeing the future, or
Nathan’s unspoken