Business

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He grinned as she took the conversation back to a level safe for her. "Yes, in fact, someone gave it to me." He set down the nearly empty bottle and tugged his wallet out yet again. He slipped the card from the leather and passed it to her. "That's it, yes?"

She didn’t touch his fingers as she took the card. She read it, claimed, "Aye, that's my card, " then slid it back to him. Her breathing was slow and deep as if she were seeking some control. "So, you'll be opening a... business here." She stated it, clearing her throat in the middle.

He took a moment to slip the card away, then again his eyes were on her. "I'll be opening a mine.. the business will be mostly off planet."

"I cater lunches for different people in town, if you're interested."

"Oh! That's a wonderful idea... a luncheon." He could see the benefits of that already.

"Will the mine be operated by man or machine, Mr. Swan?" He wondered with a private smile if something were caught in her throat because she cleared it yet again.

"Man or machine? Machine more than likely." A pause then a memory prompted his next comment. "I noticed this hands on claim.. what's that about?"

"Hands on activities refers to my massages. I'm a fully trained masseuse. I have facilities in the back of the shop, if you'd care to see them." She straightened in her chair but her shoulders were still slightly hunched over.

"You are a masseuse?" He let himself seem surprised. He rarely was. He took another bite of the eclair, larger this time, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he enjoyed the exquisite taste.

She seemed to appreciate the shift toward her business. "When I'm not cooking," she responded, nodding vigorously.

"I suppose the baking of bread .. the kneading of dough would lend to the strength of your fingers.. the two are compliments, I gather."

"I had several choices offered to me as a child, I opted for these. They do, Mr. Swan."

"I admire someone who can work with their hands well. I'm not very good at it myself."

She looked at him steadily. "We all have our talents, Mr. Swan."

She finished off her eclair, as if there was some safety in the act of eating. He found himself only slightly amused, more indulgent than anything, deep down. Watching her lick her fingers was a delight in itself and he let out a grunt of sound. "God." He moved in his chair because of the effect the noises she made had on him. Watching her fingers slip into her mouth and out again was .. inspiring.

He decided to try something different and leaned on her slightly. It was a scant pressure of his psionic will drawn from the same place that over time he had come to associate with the exercise of sorcery. The two blended together more and more the more he used them. They were controlled by the same sources of power in the body, he’d found and they helped him when he needed to sort out mortal from immortal without the searing pain of recognition. Whenever other immortals were near him, he suffered severe headaches and so he had learned to use his psi to block the pain that thundered through his head with each meeting.

The pressure he exerted at that moment was a just play, hardly obvious to the average person and her reaction was a surprise. Her eyes widened. She put her hand in her lap as if hiding and he wasn’t sure if he saw her tremble or not.

He took the last bite of his eclair, swallowed and spoke. "Ms. Thorne, if I had an affair to be catered, you could handle that quite easily I suppose?"

She nodded yes, not speaking at first. Her eyes were still wide and riveted on his face. She swallowed visibly. "What.. else can I do for you, Mr. Swan?"

He took the last few swallows of his golden blessed glass and grinned. "I would love to set up an appointment for a massage, Ms Thorne. Is that possible?"

She swallowed visibly "Umm.. Yes."

"Are you quite all right?"

She swallowed visibly again. "I’m fine." The shake she gave of her head seemed to contradict her, but he didn’t ask. "Would you like to set up a date now?"

"Yes, very much so. Whatever your most extensive service is, that's the one I'd like." He smiled, allowing himself yet another indulgence.

She stood, picked up her plate and leaned across the table to pick up his.

"Most fetching," he whispered. He tsked as she walked to the marble counter, letting out a sigh. Her apron was tied tightly and it accentuated the curve of her hips. Hips he wanted to touch.

"Aye... the full service Usually lasts two and a half hours. Sometimes three. It just depends on the person." She leaned behind the counter to get her appointment book and he tilted his head, enjoying the full view.

"I'd count on 3 or so. I have . many aches. I don't know very many people here; is there somewhere you'd recommend getting to know the ones with both wealth and an interest in horses?"

She nodded, licking her index finger, making him silently groan as he watched her turn the pages of her notebook. "Are you looking for a daytime, morning, or evening appointment?"

"I'd prefer an evening appointment, I think."

She nodded and then continued speaking to answer his question. "Well, for horses, I'd check Rayn DeFallon. And he's on Red Star now, I think." She paused and her attractive face moved into a frown. "There was a bit of a personal mess, and ... I don't think he's planet side anymore."

"Yes, I've heard of him, though not of any trouble."

"I've met Rayn before. Catered a few of his events. I can't really see him doing what they said he did.. But... I'm not a lawyer." She kept her left hand firmly shoved into her jeans pocket. "OK. Evening.... Early or late?"

"Later is better.. whatever is easy for you, milady. What did they say he did?"

"Killed his lover."

"Really? How intriguing." From what he had heard of the man he found it hard to believe. Anyone who liked horses... He decided to state that fact.

"Early evening would probably be best. A three hour massage late at night wouldn’t get you home until very early in the morning." She paused and sighed deeply. "I Have a hard time believing it too."

"I've no reason to be 'home' at any given hour, but early is fine."

"I think so... Plus I'm sure you'll want a tour of the massage area. There are three rooms, plus a hot tub and a steam room."

"I'd like that very much."

"Did you want one as early as this week?"

Finally he unfolded his body from the chair and moved toward the counter. "If possible. Would you like payment in advance or at the time of service?"

"’Payment at time of service is fine."

"Excellent." He paused, watching her. "So.. what else can you tell me of Rayn DeFallon? My pharmaceutical interests have me searching for men like DeFallon who breed, train and ship horses."

"Well, on the surface, Rayn's a very handsome man. He doesn't have too huge of an ego, so it's not that hard to be around him. He's got a good head for business and horseflesh, so people say." She shrugged as if she wasn’t completely sure.

"Do you know if he came into his money or made it himself?"

"I’m not sure... Why not just ask Rayn?" She gazed at him intently. He wondered why.

"I hope to." He smiled, looked back at her and murmured something in an odd tongue.

She swallowed a third time. "So.. did you want the appointment for this week?" Her hand tapped her pencil against the book in agitation of some kind.

"That would be fine. Thursday, perhaps?"

Nervous tension, he decided, smiling as the pencil snapped abruptly on it’s next downward tap. His murmur had been a soft spell designed to make her body tingle as if fingers were stroking along her bare side. He reveled in doing that sort of thing to unsuspecting people. Her right hand clearly began to quiver. He looked down, a self deprecating smile on his lips. "Thursday will be fine," she said. She seemed to have difficulty catching her breath.

"Thursday it is then. Early evening?" She pointed to a time, he nodded and she nodded back, each of them murmuring in tandem, "Fine."

"I'll be here early then," he said as he straightened and turned toward the door. "I look forward to seeing you again, Ms. Thorne."

She moved her mouth as if needing to swallow again over a lump. "Is there a number... You can be reached at, in case I have to cancel?" She turned her head to look at him, but closed her eyes. She licked her lips again and stood up straight from where she had been leaning against the counter.

"Oh, forgive me.. I'm an utter clod.." He tugged his business card out of his inside breast pocket and handed the card over. The edges were trimmed in gold leaf. The card, a warm, contained an Internet address, a telephone number and the current berth of the Camelot at Red Star. Below the words on the card a small silvery castle gleamed with the legend 'Camelot' under it in the same rich brown lettering the rest of the card possessed.

She had shoved both her hands into her jeans pockets as she opened her eyes and saw him holding out the gilt card. She pursed her lips and eased a hand out of her pocket to take the card. Her hand twitched as she took it.

Ethan said, "I can be reached there anytime."

"Thank you," she said hurriedly, glancing at the card. Then: "I’ve no computer...."

He smiled. He knew he’d been successful in some measure with his attempts to disconcert her. "I’ve a number there as well .. for my manor house. You see?"

She nodded briskly. "All right. I'll see you on Thursday, then." He saw her put her hand and the card in her back pocket again. Shaking hands must be out of the question, he thought to himself, curious about why her hands trembled, forming his own theories and smiling warmly.

"Thursday." He moved through the door, the little bell jingling as he pushed it open. "Good day, dear lady."