“A gathering?” Stanwyck’s mouth quirked. “I assume you refer to a séance.”
Trask met the subtle challenge with a slight, solemn shake of his head. “I prefer to think of our efforts to contact those who have gone beyond as a gathering of souls, come together to channel their energies and embrace those we’ve lost.”
“I would prefer a private consultation.” Stanwyck’s piercing gaze settled on Sophie’s mouth. “Miss Devereaux’s reputation precedes her. I understand she is quite…skilled.”
A tingle of awareness set the fine hairs at her nape on end. What blather was this? Reputation? She’d engaged in this charade for only a matter of weeks. Surely Stanwyck must be testing her.
Battling the urge to look away, she forced her lips into what she hoped was a tempting smile.
“I assure you my reputation is well justified.” Amazing, how smoothly the lie flowed.
“I have no doubt it will be an intriguing experience. When might we arrange our first…sitting?” His eyes lit with intrigue, but no smile curved his lips. “An evening appointment, to be followed by dinner at Café Susannah.”
Stanwyck’s commanding tone kindled angry heat across Sophie’s cheeks. A private evening sitting and dinner at a fine establishment? Precisely what nature of services did he believe she was prepared to offer?
Right then. Does the man truly believe I wish to join his bloody harem?
Pulling in a breath to quiet the thud of her pulse, she mustered a bland voice. “I’m sorry, but that will not be possible. I make a point to observe firm boundaries in all interactions with clients.”
His mouth crooked at her pronouncement. “Come now, Miss Devereaux. Surely you don’t believe I am interested in any aspect of your abilities beyond the spiritual.”
Trask shot her a dagger-filled glance. He cleared his throat, dramatic as ever. “I understand Mr. Stanwyck’s father was rather fond of the place. Perhaps the establishment might prove a favorable venue to initiate contact.”
Blast the man. She’d known Trask’s greed eclipsed any semblance of character, but the notion that he’d send her off to dine with this wolf in professor’s clothing, all in the interest of garnering Stanwyck’s favor—and no doubt, more blunt from his accounts—was beyond the pale.
“My thoughts, precisely.” A subtle note of triumph colored Stanwyck’s tone. “Father’s favorite dining spot would be the very place to lure the old man back to this realm. While he walked this earth, he rarely made an appearance before sundown. Why expect him to start now?”
Trask’s smile was positively serpentine. “We will most certainly arrange your consultation to best suit your preferences, Professor Stanwyck. Rest assured, we shall leave no stone unturned while assisting you in your quest.” He made a show of thumbing through the appointment journal on his desk. “Does tomorrow evening suit?”
“Yes. I trust the experience will prove quite enlightening.”
Sophie subdued her features into some semblance of a calm façade even as Stanwyck stared down at her, as if daring her to dissent. Perhaps she could turn this unexpected situation to her advantage. A glass of fine wine…or two or three…might prove effective at coaxing out the truth of his motives.
Still, she would not give Stanwyck the satisfaction of knowing her heart pounded at the thought of being alone with him. She held his gaze. “As you wish.”
“Perhaps I have given Miss Devereaux the wrong impression. I assure you I harbor no designs on seduction.” His sly, knowing smile made it clear he intended to fan the flames of her doubt rather than extinguish them. “My interest is not rooted in the physical realm, regardless of how tempting the medium.”
Pompous ass.Perhaps I shall advise him to return to the Nile Valley to search for his father’s lost jewels. A fool’s errand under the Egyptian sun might be just the thing.
“I suppose I must consider myself fortunate there will be no need to steel myself against an uncontrollable passion.”
Trask coughed behind his fist, his gaze icy enough to freeze Sophie where she stood. “It’s agreed, then. Tomorrow evening, at sunset. We shall seek to make contact with your father, followed with a meeting in the earthly location where he’d experienced much contentment.”
Sophie’s teeth clenched. Only for a moment. Recovering her composure quickly, she smoothed a stray tendril from her face. Stanwyck’s eyes followed her every movement.
“Perhaps if you join us tonight, your father will be able to tell you what he’d like the chef to serve…an incentive, so to speak, for his timely arrival.” Sophie spoke the words as though she meant every syllable.
Trask’s complexion took on the hue of a ripe berry. For a breath, Sophie wished she’d better considered the words before they’d left her mouth. If the conniving fraud thought to dismiss her, right then and there, she’d need to say whatever it took to make him reconsider. Sacrificing her pride would be a bitter pill, indeed. But she couldn’t endanger her investigation by losing her access to Trask’s clientele.
A sound rang out, hearty and rich and masculine. Laughter, no less. Amusement lit Stanwyck’s eyes, adding another dimension to his classically carved features. Blast the man, it was downright unsporting of him to throw her off-kilter with his smile. He’d no right to be so bloody attractive. Just her luck—a man she did not trust to tell the truth about the current state of the weather held the power to make her pulse speed ever so slightly with his endearing, slightly crooked grin.
An appreciative glimmer shown in his gaze. “Father would have liked you. He enjoyed a sense of humor in his women almost as much as he savored their beauty.”
She forced a prim smile. “I feel confident we shall have no trouble conjuring his essence.”
“Excellent.” Trask composed his features. The bloke wasn’t pleased with her. That much was obvious. But at the very least, the ruddy blotches in his complexion had faded, and the angry glare in his eyes had dimmed. Leaning forward, he jotted notes in an appointment journal. “Shall we count on you joining us tonight?”
“Wild hounds could not keep me away.” His wry smile was not effective at drawing Sophie’s attention from the cynicism in his eyes. “Miss Devereaux has been most persuasive. I would not miss an opportunity to observe her talents. At what time shall I arrive?”
