The Adventurer

in his eyes.
    Sarah scratched Ellora's ears and the cat began to purr. "I hardly dare ask the name of that monster on the front steps."
    "Machu Picchu."
    "Oh, yes, the lost city of the Incas." Sarah turned to look at the big cat who hadn't moved from his position in the middle of the step. "The name sort of fits, doesn't it? Massive and immovable."
    Gideon ignored that. "I take it you drove over from Seattle this morning?" He made it sound as if she had done something exceedingly stupid.
    "Yes, it was a lovely drive. Hardly any traffic."
    "Well, as long as you've made the trip, you might as well come in for the tea."
    "Thanks." Sarah gave Ellora one last pat and rose to her feet. "Your two cats certainly have different personalities, don't they? How do they get along?"
    "Ellora keeps Machu Picchu wrapped around her little paw." Gideon sounded resigned to the situation.
    "Hard to believe," Sarah muttered.
    "What do you expect? He's just a simple-minded male. Ellora has no trouble with him at all. This way." Gideon Trace turned to lead her into the house.
    Sarah followed quickly, glancing around with deep interest. The inside of the old Victorian seemed dark and forbidding. It was also chilly.
    "Must cost a fortune to heat one of these old houses."
    "Yeah, but I don't need a lot of heat."
    Sarah eyed the faded drapes, unpolished wooden floors and aging furniture. It was obvious publishing
Cache
did not provide a high profit margin. Either that or Gideon Trace simply didn't believe in investing in his personal surroundings. The place did not appear neglected, she finally decided, just dark and gloomy.
    It was also incredibly tidy.
    Magazines were filed in a terrifyingly orderly fashion in a rack. There was a huge assortment of books but they were all arranged with great precision in the floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The surface of the coffee table was completely clear, unmarred by so much as one empty coffee mug.
    Even the chess game that had been set up on a table in one corner looked neat and orderly. Sarah glanced at the carved wooden pieces and wondered who Gideon played chess with. From all appearances he was a very solitary man.
    She hurried after her reluctant host as he went through the living room into the kitchen. Here the windows all faced the sea, providing a ringside view of the dark fog that hovered over the water. The room itself was spacious in the manner of old kitchens and somewhat lighter and more inviting than the living room. But the impression of grim orderliness still prevailed.
    Sarah realized she had not anticipated that her hero would be quite so organized. But she refused to be daunted by petty details.
    "Have a seat."
    Sarah needed no second urging. She dropped her huge bag onto a ladder-back chair with a thud and took a seat at the old claw-footed table. "This is certainly an interesting place you have here."
    "I like it." Gideon filled an old steel kettle at the sink.
    "Have you lived here long?"
    "Almost five years."
    "Is that how long you've been publishing your treasure-hunting magazine?"
    "About."
    The man obviously was not good at small talk. That didn't surprise Sarah. Gideon Trace was not a small talk kind of person. "I certainly have appreciated your help during the past few months, Mr. Trace. The inside information you provided on the subject of treasure hunting was invaluable to my story. You'll be happy to know I sent the manuscript of
Glitter Quest
off to New York on Tuesday."
    "Delighted," he agreed caustically. "You said in one of your letters that it was some sort of romance novel?"
    "That's right. I write romantic suspense."
    "Sounds like a contradiction in terms."
    "Not at all. I think romance and suspense go together beautifully. Danger and adventure heighten the sensual tension in the story and vice versa."
    Gideon looked distinctly skeptical as he set out two cups and spooned instant coffee into one.
    "I take it you don't read in the genre?" Sarah ventured, a little disappointed after all these months of corresponding with her he had apparently not bothered to buy one of her books and read it.
    "No, can't say that I do." Gideon put the kettle on the stove.
    Sarah studied him as he turned to face her. He leaned back against the edge of the counter and folded his arms across his broad chest. Either a forbidding scowl was habitual for him or else she had interrupted something important. Perhaps he had been in the middle of one of his articles for
Cache
. She knew how it felt