Witchcraft

haven't been here enough during the past six weeks to keep track of what's been going on. Finish Vendetta?"
    "No, but I made a lot of progress." Kimberly gulped the champagne, feeling uncomfortable and shy around her husband. Most of their conversations lately had been like this, polite but rather distant. Kimberly had told herself everything would be all right once they were married, but now she was beginning to wonder if she'd been deluding herself. "Something wrong, Kim?"
    "As a matter of fact, you can answer a question for me," she began assertively. "A question Starke wouldn't answer? Is that why he was looking so uncomfortable when I arrived?"
    "I only wanted to know what it was you two really imported and exported. A simple enough question. And don't tell me it was junk." Cavenaugh eyed her speculatively. "A lot of it was."
    "But what else was involved?" He hesitated and then shrugged.
    "Occasionally Starke and I handled transactions involving information.
    We were sometimes in a position to acquire useful details that regular government agents couldn't get. Does that satisfy your mystery writer's curiosity?"
    "Uh, yes, but tell me-" He cut off the flow of her questions with a curious half smile. "That's it, Kim. That's all you get from me on the subject. And I hope I never see anything close to it in one of your books." His expression softened briefly when he saw the disappointment in her eyes. "I really can't talk about it."
    "Another responsibility you've assumed?" The softness in him vanished. "Call it whatever you like. Going to hold my silence on the subject against me along with everything else?" Kimberly frowned. "Of course not. I'm sure you've given your word not to talk about your former line of work.
    I wouldn't expect you to break it." Not Darius Cavenaugh . He'd see his responsibilities through to the end of his life. Kimberly drank some champagne and considered her own uncertain future. What if she'd made a terrible mistake, Kimberly wondered with a touch of panic. Maybe everything wasn't going to be all right now. Maybe everything was going to be a total disaster. "You must be exhausted," Cavenaugh said gently.
    "It's been a long day."
    "I'll survive," she muttered. He looked at her through faintly narrowed eyes. "I'm not sure I will." She wasn't certain she'd heard him. It was the first indication of any emotion other than bland politeness she'd caught in his words for weeks. "I beg your pardon?"
    "Nothing," he assured her quickly, taking her arm. "Let's go talk to your grandparents. They want to show you off a bit."
    "They're delighted I've made such an excellent marriage," Kimberly said dryly. "More delighted about it than you are, apparently." Kimberly blinked. Again she sensed the blade of the knife beneath his words.
    Cavenaugh's carefully controlled temperament was fraying slightly around the edges. She wondered why. She was still wondering two hours later, when she found herself alone in her bedroom. The last of the guests had left the estate and the various inhabitants of the house had settled down in their own rooms. Kimberly realized she was pacing the floor in front of the bed and forced herself to stop. This wasn't exactly how she had envisioned spending her wedding night. She was alone and it was clear now that Cavenaugh would not be joining her. He had walked her upstairs, kissed her good night at the door and disappeared into his own room. Eyes burning with tears of frustration and dismay, Kimberly sank down onto the edge of her bed and desperately tried to decide what to do next. She was at a loss. There had been no talk of a honeymoon, not even a trip to the coast to spend some time in her beach house. This was insane, she told herself. Here she was head over heels in love with her husband of only a few hours and he was spending the night in his own bedroom! It was beginning to appear as though he intended to live by the vow he had made the night he asked her to marry him. She would be given all the time she wanted to get to know h im . Somehow Kimberly hadn't really expected him to honor those rash words. Especially since she had never meant him to do so. It was ludicrous to think that they could truly get to know each other as long as they were fencing emotionally like this. What she wouldn't give for some genuine telepathic talent, Kimberly thought. She would sacrifice a great deal at this moment to know what was going on in Darius Cavenaugh's head.
    Slowly she stood up and