Free Amaryllis by Jayne Castle Page B

happened. She was a professional. True, she had only been working as a commercial prism for a few months, but she’d had years of experience in the academic world. She had a wall papered with degrees and certificates.
    But she had been totally unprepared for the effects of the link with Lucas. Nothing in her experience had led her to anticipate such a shockingly intimate sensation.
    The few seconds of disorientation and the accompanying sense of vulnerability that preceded the actual link had not disturbed her. She was accustomed to that feeling. Every prism experienced a moment of blind, groping awareness. It passed as soon as the psychic link between talent and prism took hold.
    The focus link itself was a remarkably uncomplicated, emotionally neutral matter. It was as natural as using one’s eyes or ears or taste buds. The only way it differed from any of the other human senses was that it required two minds in order to function in a reliable fashion.
    But what she had experienced during those few momentswhen she had held the focus with Lucas could definitely not be described as uncomplicated or emotionally neutral. What she had felt was pure, scorching sexual desire.
    It was impossible
, Amaryllis thought as she wove a path through the crowded hall. Nothing in the exhaustive research and testing done on the nature of the connection between talents and prisms had ever indicated that a sense of sexual intimacy was involved. She herself had worked with countless talents in and out of the lab. She had never felt anything that could have been described as even mildly arousing.
    It seemed to Amaryllis that she could still smell the smoke from the fires of searing desire that had been lit during the link with Lucas. Now that she was free of the psychic connection, the deep longing was receding. But she had an unpleasant suspicion that the aftereffects were going to last for several hours.
    It had been a struggle to conceal her reaction from Lucas. She hoped he hadn’t noticed just how stunned she had been. At least she had managed to hold the focus in a reasonably professional manner.
    Amaryllis took comfort from the knowledge that she had done her job properly, even under such adverse circumstances.
    She would think about the problem later, she told herself as she followed Miranda Locking from a discreet distance. There had to be a logical explanation for the phenomenon.
    At the moment she had other problems. Her client
wanted
answers. She would try to get them for him. This kind of thing was not in her job description, but Amaryllis believed in going the extra mile, regardless of the task. She knew what it felt like to need answers.
    Miranda Locking did not pause at the door of the restroom. She went straight past it, moving swiftly down the hall toward the shadowed regions of an office corridor. Her high-heeled evening shoes made a loud tapping on the hardwood floor.
    Surprised, Amaryllis grabbed a fistful of fluttering scarvesand quickened her pace. Miranda’s blond hair gleamed briefly in the hallway light, and then she turned a corner and disappeared.
    Amaryllis broke into a run. Scarves flying, she rounded the corner.
    And collided with Miranda Locking and Merrick Beech.
    â€œWhat the hell?” Beech, a soft-featured man with a noticeable paunch, grunted heavily. He stumbled back against the wall, lost his balance completely, and sat down hard.
    Miranda shrieked as Amaryllis plowed into her. “What do you think you’re doing?” She staggered. Her high heels shot out from under her and she fell to the floor. Her large purse flew from her hand.
    â€œOomph.” Amaryllis landed on top of her in a tangle of wildly fluttering scarves. “Sorry.”
    â€œGet off me, you idiot.” Miranda struggled to a sitting position. “Who are you, anyway?” Her eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion. “Did you follow me?”
    â€œSort of.” Amaryllis scrambled to her knees.
    Out