Mind Over Matter: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down

“If she’s uncomfortable you will cut it.”

Clarissa’s hand was smooth and firm under Alex’s, but her eyes were wide and stunned. “Should I be nervous?” he asked, only half joking.

“Oh, no.” With a little laugh, she cleared her throat. “No, not at all. You have very strong vibrations, Mr. Marshall.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“You’re a widower, fifteen, sixteen years now. You were a very good husband.” She smiled at him, relaxed again. “You can be proud of that. And a good father.”

“I appreciate that, Miss DeBasse, but again, it’s hardly news.”

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Both your children are settled now, which eases your mind, as it does any parent’s. They never gave you a great deal of worry, though there was a period with your son, during his early twenties, when you had some rough spots. But some people take longer to find their niche, don’t they?”

He wasn’t smiling anymore, but staring at her as intensely as she stared at him. “I suppose.”

“You’re a perfectionist, in your work and in your private life. That made it a little difficult for your son. He couldn’t quite live up to your expectations. You shouldn’t have worried so much, but of course all parents do. Now that he’s going to be a father himself, you’re closer. The idea of grandchildren pleases you. At the same time it makes you think more about the future—your own mortality. But I wonder if you’re wise to be thinking of retiring. You’re in the prime of your life and too used to deadlines and rushing to be content with that fishing boat for very long. Now if you’d—” She stopped herself with a little shake of the head. “I’m sorry. I tend to ramble on when someone interests me. I’m always afraid of getting too personal.”

“Not at all.” He closed his hand into a loose fist. “Miss DeBasse, you’re quite amazing.”

“Cut!” Cauldwell could have gotten down on his knees and kissed Clarissa’s feet. Alex Marshall considering retirement. There hadn’t been so much as a murmur of it on the grapevine. “I want to see the playback in thirty minutes. Alex, thank you. It’s a great start. Miss DeBasse—” He’d have taken her hand again if he hadn’t been a little leery of giving off the wrong vibrations. “You were sensational. I can’t wait to start the next segment with you.”

Before he’d finished thanking her, A.J. was at her side. She knew what would happen, what invariably happened. One of the crew would come up and tell Clarissa about a “funny thing that happened to him.” Then there would be another asking for his palm to be read. Some would be smirking, others would be curious, but inside of ten minutes Clarissa would be surrounded.

“If you’re ready, I’ll drive you home,” A.J. began.

“Now I thought we’d settled that.” Clarissa looked idly around for her purse without any idea where she’d set it. “It’s too far for you to drive all the way to Newport Beach and back again.”

“Just part of the service.” A.J. handed her the purse she’d been holding throughout the shoot.

“Oh, thank you, dear. I couldn’t imagine what I’d done with it. I’ll take a cab.”

“We have a driver for you.” David didn’t have to look at A.J. to know she was steaming. He could all but feel the heat. “We wouldn’t dream of having you take a cab all the way back.”

“That’s very kind.”

“But it won’t be necessary,” A.J. put in.

“No, it won’t.” Smoothly Alex edged in and took Clarissa’s hand. “I’m hoping Miss DeBasse will allow me to drive her home—after she has dinner with me.”

“That would be lovely,” Clarissa told him before A.J. could say a word. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you, Mr. Marshall.”

“Not at all. In fact, I was fascinated.”

“How nice. Thank you for staying with me, dear.” She kissed A.J.’s cheek. “It always puts me at ease. Good night, David.”

“Good night, Clarissa. Alex.” He stood beside A.J. as they linked arms and strolled out of the studio. “A nice-looking couple.”

Before the words were out of his mouth, A.J. turned on him. If it had been possible to grow fangs, she’d have grown them. “You jerk.” She was halfway to the studio doors before he stopped her.

“And what’s eating you?”

If he hadn’t said it with a smile on his face, she might have controlled herself. “I want to see that last fifteen minutes of tape, Brady, and if I don’t like what I see, it’s out.”

“I don’t recall anything in the contract about you having editing rights, A.J.”

“There’s nothing in the contract saying that Clarissa would read palms, either.”

“Granted. Alex ad-libbed that, and it worked very well. What’s the problem?”

“You were watching, damn it.” Needing to turn her temper on something, she rammed through the studio doors.

“I was,” David agreed as he took her arm to slow her down. “But obviously I didn’t see what you did.”

“She was covering.” A.J. raked a hand through her hair. “She felt something as soon as she took his hand. When you look at the tape you’ll see five, ten seconds where she just stares.”

“So it adds to the mystique. It’s effective.”

“Damn your ‘effective’!” She swung around so quickly she nearly knocked him into a wall. “I don’t like to see her hit that way. I happen to care about her as a person, not just a commodity.”

“All right, hold it. Hold it!” He caught up to her again as she shoved through the outside door. “There didn’t seem to be a thing wrong with Clarissa when she left here.”

“I don’t like it.” A.J. stormed down the steps toward the parking lot. “First the lousy cards. I’m sick of seeing her tested that way.”

“A.J., the cards are a natural. She’s done that same test, in much greater intensity, for institutes all over the country.”

“I know. And it makes me furious that she has to prove herself over and over. Then that palm business. Something upset her.” She began to pace on the patch of lawn bordering the sidewalk. “There was something there and I didn’t even have the chance to talk to her about it before that six-foot reporter with the golden voice muscled in.”

“Alex?” Though he tried, for at least five seconds, to control himself, David roared with laughter. “God, you’re priceless.”

Her eyes narrowed, her face paled with rage, she stopped pacing. “So you think it’s funny, do you? A trusting, amazingly innocent woman goes off with a virtual stranger and you laugh. If anything happens to her—”

“Happens?” David rolled his eyes skyward. “Good God, A.J., Alex Marshall is hardly a maniac. He’s a highly respected member of the news media. And Clarissa is certainly old enough to make up her own mind—and make her own dates.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Looked that way to me.”

She opened her mouth, shut it again, then whirled around toward the parking lot.

“Now wait a minute. I said wait.” He took her by both arms and trapped her between himself and a parked car. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to chase you all over L.A.”

“Just go back inside and take a look at that take. I want to see it tomorrow.”

“I don’t take orders from paranoid agents or anyone else. We’re going to settle this right here. I don’t know what’s working on you, A.J., but I can’t believe you’re this upset because a client’s going out to dinner.”

“She’s not just a client,” A.J. hurled back at him. “She’s my mother.”

Her furious announcement left them both momentarily speechless. He continued to hold her by the shoulders while she fought to even her breathing. Of course he should have seen it, David realized. The shape of the face, the eyes. Especially the eyes. “I’ll be damned.”