Even before Miranda called and asked him to meet her in Santa Fe, Eli had decided it was time to leave Sybil’s home. He felt ineffectual, even a bit cowardly, hiding out like this.
“I need to find out who poisoned Meditrina’s grapevines, who attacked me, and whether the two are connected,” he told Sybil as he stuffed some clothing and a few necessities into a backpack. “Maybe it really was a coincidence, as Troy suggested.”
Maybe the Frenchmen in the white car have lost interest and stopped looking for me.
“I understand your need to act and to discover the truth,” Sybil replied. “But please, be careful.”
“Yeah, Troy told me to watch my ass, too.”
She handed him a deerskin pouch about the size of a cigarette lighter, hung on a leather cord. Strange symbols drawn in beadwork decorated the pouch. “This is for protection.”
“Wouldn’t a .45 be more useful?” Eli teased. He fingered the pouch, trying to distinguish the objects secreted inside. “What’s in it?”
“Magic,” she smiled. “It’s your personal amulet. Wear it at all times. And don’t open it.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Eli slipped the cord around his neck, wondering how a beaded leather bag could possibly protect him from assailants bent on destroying him. But Sybil knew things he didn’t, and right now he needed all the good luck he could get.
He zipped the backpack and slung it over one shoulder. “Ready to go?”
“Are you sure you want to ride in a bus all the way to Santa Fe?” she asked as they drove into town.
“It just seems safer,” he explained. “Maybe I’m being paranoid, but renting a car or flying would leave a trail for someone who wanted to track me.”
“I could rent the car in my name.”
“No, Sybil, I don’t want to drag you into this any deeper. You’ve already done so much for me. Besides, this is cheaper and I’ll have a chance to see parts of the country I’ve never been to before.”
He paid cash for his ticket as the Greyhound roared into the station. When the driver called “All aboard,” Eli hugged Sybil hard.
“Give my best to Miranda,” she said.
“I will, and don’t worry. I promise to stay in touch.”
“I’ll be following your progress in the scrying pond.”
He laughed. “I hope you won’t watch everything I do.”
Miranda got into Santa Fe two days ahead of Eli. The time she’d spent painting with Lee Golden had jump-started her creativity; now she worked her way hungrily through the city’s smorgasbord of art galleries and museums. Strolling down Canyon Road, she saw Native American baskets and handwoven shawls, fine silver jewelry and painted silk scarves, sculpture, furniture, pottery, and pictures of all kinds. She even splurged on a pair of custom-made cowgirl boots decorated with yellow butterflies and red flowers.
The morning Eli was due to arrive, she was sitting at the communal table in Café Pasqual’s eating a chorizo burrito when a blond woman next to her pulled out a deck of cards. As she began shuffling them, Miranda saw the cards were illustrated with colorful pictures.
The woman noticed her and asked, “Shall I tell your fortune?”
“I don’t think I want to know what my future holds. I like surprises,” Miranda answered. “But those cards are beautiful. May I see them?”
The woman handed over the deck and Miranda thumbed through the cards. “Oh my,” she exclaimed when she turned up one called, “The Lovers.” On it, a voluptuous woman with long, dark hair wearing a skimpy bikini stood in a lake with her head thrown back in ecstasy; a muscular man knelt before her, holding her in a passionate embrace.
The woman laughed, took the card from Miranda, and laid it on the table between them. “She looks like you.”
Miranda blushed and a card slipped from the deck. It fell face up, showing eight double-pronged staves soaring through the sky.
“Well, well,” the blond woman said.
“What?”
“I thought you didn’t want to know your future.”
“Not if it’s bad.”
“So far it looks pretty interesting.”
Miranda fanned the cards on the table and studied them. One that depicted a knight riding a horse draped in russet livery caught her eye. She reached for it and placed it beside the other two cards.
“Okay, what do they mean?”
The blonde smiled at Miranda. “I’d say your prince is about to come.”
The double entendre made Miranda blush again, then she dissolved into giggles.
The blonde joined in.
“How did you know?” Miranda asked when they’d both stopped laughing.
The woman tapped The Lovers card. “This one’s pretty obvious. And the Eight of Wands,” she said, indicating the card that had dropped from the deck, “suggests passion, excitement, things happening quickly. The Knight of Wands shows a man traveling. I’d say you’re in for a hot time in the old town tonight.”
Miranda grinned and glanced at her watch. “Sooner than that, I hope. His bus gets here in a half-hour.”
“Have fun,” the blonde said as she scooped up the cards and slid them back into a black velvet pouch.
“I intend to. And thanks for the reading.”
“You’re welcome.” She handed Miranda a business card. “If you ever want to know more, call me.”
They barely made it into the room Miranda had booked in a B&B near the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum. Halfway up the stairway, Eli backed her to wall, rubbing his erection against her, and she almost begged him to take her right there on the landing.
“I really missed you,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck.
“I can tell.”
He kissed her and slid his hand under her shirt, slipping his fingers inside her red lace bra. Miranda sighed into his open mouth. When he lifted her breast out of the underwire cup and bent to suck her nipple, she moaned softly.
Footsteps on the stairs below sent them scurrying into Miranda’s second-floor room. As she flipped the lock, he pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra.
Her breasts sprang free, her hard nipples straining toward him for attention. The crotch of her jeans was already soaked by the time he pulled them down around her ankles.
“Feels like you missed me, too,” he said, running a finger inside her panties.
His fingertip brushed her clit ever so lightly, urging it to swell like a flower in time-lapse photography. Miranda arched toward him and pressed against his fingers, trying to suck them inside her. Eli obliged, inserting two while continuing to flick her clit with his thumb.
“Help me get these boots off,” she said impatiently.
Kneeling before her, he tugged off her new cowgirl boots while she gripped his shoulder for support. Then he pressed his face to her pussy and inhaled her scent.
Miranda threw her head back, crying out as Eli licked along the edge of her panties and gently nibbled her through the silky fabric. We’re like the couple on The Lovers card, she thought, twisting her fingers in his golden hair. When he pulled the silk aside and swiped her seam with his tongue, she exploded in a dazzling array of colors.
Her orgasm swept aside Eli’s tenderness. He yanked off her panties and practically tore away his own clothing. He picked her up, tossed her on the bed, and rolled on a condom. I wish we didn’t have to use those things, she thought, longing for his bare skin. But I’m not ready for a monogamous relationship yet.
Diving onto the bed, he rammed his cock into her so hard, she gasped. Again and again, he plunged. Miranda opened wider, inviting him to plumb her depths. Like flint on steel, each thrust sent sparks flying until flames burst inside her again. She felt his cock pulsing as he came. As if he’d thrown gasoline on her fire, his throbbing ignited a conflagration and she came twice more in rapid succession.
Lying in his arms afterward, she first noticed the deerskin amulet he wore around his neck. “Where did you get this?” she asked, stroking it lightly with her fingertip. “It looks Indian.”
“Sybil gave it to me. It’s supposed to be some kind of protection amulet.”
She pushed herself up on one elbow and stared down at him. “Does Sybil think you’re in need of protection?”
Eli rumpled her hair affectionately. “Sybil worries too much about me. Always has.”
He pulled her down beside him and snuggled against her. A moment later Miranda heard him snore softly.
I’m really starting to care for this guy, she thought. Quickly, she pushed the idea aside, rationalizing, it’s just great sex. Don’t confuse lust with love.
Miranda had waited to visit the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum until she could see it with Eli. Together they viewed the extensive collection of the artist’s paintings, drawings, sculptures, and photographs—nearly one thousand in all.
“I don’t know much about art,” Eli admitted. “Is it my imagination or are those flowers intentionally sexy?”
“It’s not your imagination.”
He pointed to a blatantly vaginal blue-green painting. “That one reminds me of you,” he said, and slid his hand under the short denim skirt he’d insisted she wear without panties.
“Eli! Someone will see us.”
He winked at her, hooking a finger in her slit. “That’s part of the fun.”
“Animal,” she said and laughed, pulling away.
But her pussy tingled and her heart stepped up its beat. As they strolled through the museum, each painting she saw of a virile tree or a lush blossom fueled her desire.
Erotica for art lovers, she mused. Maybe I should try my hand at it. By the time they’d finished their tour, Miranda was ready for another round at the B&B.
They decided to celebrate their last night together in Santa Fe at the legendary
“Pink.” The three-hundred-year-old rose-colored adobe house in the city’s historic Barrio de Analco was now a romantic restaurant, complete with low-beamed ceilings, terrific food, and one of the best bars in the country. Miranda felt torn, knowing that tomorrow they’d go their separate ways again. Although she itched to be on the road—she still had a lot of territory to explore—she was going to miss Eli.
“I plan to check out the Texas wine region,” he told her as he filled her glass with a good Napa Valley Cabernet.
“I didn’t realize Texans made wine,” she said.
“Texas isn’t all cactus and tumbleweeds. The Hill Country looks a lot like Tuscany and the weather’s pretty similar, which is why you’ll find a lot of vineyards there. Most of the wine isn’t very good, though. At least, not yet.”
Miranda dug into her lobster, crab, and shrimp enchiladas. “So why go?”
“A guy I used to work with has a vineyard there. He’s a specialist in grapevine diseases. I want to discuss the fungus that killed Meditrina’s vines with him—he might have some ideas about how it got there and how to deal with the problem.”
Eli took a bite of his steak with mushrooms and green chile and chewed it contemplatively. Watching him, Miranda thought wistfully, in the morning he’ll be gone.
If she hadn’t already promised to visit her uncle in Arkansas, she’d consider going with him. Maybe we can meet in Texas in a week or two.
“What about those French thugs?” she asked. “Do you think they’re still looking for you?”
“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t seen them since we left San Francisco. I’m keeping a low profile, but I’m not going to hide out like a scared rabbit forever.”
She laid her hand over his, wishing she’d asked the card reader for more information. “Be careful.”
“I have to resolve this matter so I can get back to my old life.” His green eyes held hers, willing her to understand.
“I know.”
Reaching into his pocket, Eli withdrew a small box and set it on the table. “I couldn’t resist buying this for you. A Navaho woman who lives on a reservation north of here made it.”
Miranda removed the lid and lifted out a delicate silver bracelet set with turquoise. “It’s beautiful.”
“To help you remember our time here together.”
“I’ll never forget our time here,” she said, slipping the bracelet on her wrist.
“Thank you.”
Their waiter stopped by to see if they needed anything else. As he topped off their wineglasses, Miranda asked Eli, “How will you get to Texas?”
“Take the bus, I guess. There’s one that leaves a little after seven tomorrow morning.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” said the waiter. “What part of Texas are you going to?”
“Fredericksburg,” Eli answered.
“My mom’s driving to Austin tomorrow. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you rode with her. She likes company.”
“Really? That would certainly make things easier. But what makes you think you can trust your mother with me? You don’t even know me.”
“You don’t know my mom.” The waiter wrote down his mother’s name and phone number and handed them to Eli. “I’ll call and tell her you’ll be on board.”
“Thanks.”
Miranda smiled at him. “Sybil would say there are no coincidences.” So would Lee Golden. She was beginning to believe it herself.