Night of the Magician by Stephanie James, Jayne Ann Krentz Page B

the resulting conflict is definitely hard on your nerves. But you were perfectly right, you know. Galen is a first-class fake.“ He left the door and paced thoughtfully across the room to stand in front of the window. Beyond the glass stretched a darkened vista of pine and fir.
    “I thought you were going to stand up and do something dramatic like turn on all the lights and show the invisible wires and the lighting arrangements,“ Ariana grumbled, flinging herself down on the foot of the bed and kicking off her high-heeled shoes. “What happened to the grand expose? Houdini made a real name for himself doing that sort of thing, didn’t he? Exposing charlatans and frauds who claimed to have connections to the spirit world?“
    “Yes.“ Lucian continued to gaze thoughtfully out the window, his hands shoved into the back pockets of the jeans. “He did.“
    “I thought you’d see this as your big chance or something,“ Ariana sighed, taking another sip of the fortifying sherry.
    “It wouldn’t have been quite that simple, Ariana. I’m sure Galen’s smart enough to take protective measures against the possibility of someone in the audience declaring him a fraud and trying to prove it.“
    “Protective measures?“
    “You don’t think all those strong young men in the robes and cowls were there purely for atmosphere, do you?“ he asked dryly.
    Ariana blinked in astonishment. “My goodness, I never thought of that. Do you suppose he hires them to keep the audience in line?“

    “I’d say that’s probably one of their functions. Anyone who tried to cause real trouble would undoubtedly be escorted rapidly out of the room and thrown off the grounds.“
    Ariana winced. “How are we ever going to prove anything to Aunt Phil?“
    “Your aunt’s an intelligent woman, as you have already observed to me. I think she’ll see reason.“ Lucian swung around to face her. “After all, she’s smart enough to know that you and I could be very good together,“ he added deliberately.
    Ariana’s head came up sharply in response to the new tone in his voice. In a flash the uneasiness she had been experiencing since the séance was given another source. It wasn’t Galen’s magic she needed to fear tonight, it was Lucian’s.
    “My aunt is an incurable romantic,“ she said firmly. “Don’t get the idea that just because you have her approval you can therefore have me.“
    A distant roll of thunder drummed across the night sky.
    “There’s a storm coming in,“ Lucian said as if she hadn’t just issued a challenge.
    Ariana smiled a little grimly. “Thunderstorms are not on the list of things of which I am afraid. I won’t be needing any comfort to get through a storm, if that’s what you’re about to suggest, Lucian.“
    “Are you sure?“ he drawled gently. He was watching her the way she imagined a sorcerer watched a magic pentagram, waiting to see what would appear in the center. The fateful sense of premonition that she had experienced briefly during tea swept over her again.
    Irritably Ariana got to her feet, shrugging off the prickle of awareness and the strange, intoxicating fear that accompanied it She could feel those topaz eyes on her, sensed the waiting quality in him and she wanted to hide, just as she had wanted to hide from the other kind of magic earlier in the evening.
    But somehow Lucian’s brand of magic was far more threatening. “I think it’s time you left,“ she ordered huskily, meeting his gaze in the mirror over the dressing table. “Good night, Lucian.“
    He said nothing but moved slowly to stand directly behind her, watching her in the mirror. She could feel the desire in him and with a shock felt the answering flicker of sensual tension that sprang to life in her veins. His jeweled eyes held hers with invisible bonds as he stood behind her.
    “Do you really want me to go, Ariana?“
    She swallowed and unconsciously steadied herself by holding onto the edge of the dressing