Page 17 of The Bride Wore White

She got the impression that at some point he had made the decision to take a step back from life and watch others from a safe distance. She would not be surprised to learn that the scars had been the reason for his retreat into the shadows.

Something about his hard eyes told her that he saw more thanhe wanted to see. He was not so much lonely as alone, but he deliberately generated that isolation.

She reminded herself that she was not attracted to the dour, withdrawn type. After the fiasco with Julian, she had made a conscious decision to date only cheerful, optimistic, good-natured men who liked to dance until dawn. Men who laughed easily. Men who were not ready to get serious about romantic relationships. Men who did not press for the kind of physical intimacy she now knew she could not risk. Men who were not inclined to be possessive. When it came to romance, she was determined to become a professional flirt. She planned to pursue that objective just as soon as she got the rest of her life back on track.

No question about it—Jack did not meet any of her requirements. Optimism and a cheerful nature were clearly alien concepts to him. He would never be a charming flirt. He was not a man who would ever laugh easily. If he did allow himself to get involved in a romantic relationship, he would be very, very serious about it.

Nope, not her type. But that was a good thing because she needed a professional investigator, not a date.

She gave him a chilly smile. “When was the last time you got involved in a case because you happened to be interested and you found the situation convenient, Mr.Wingate?”

“It’s been a while,” Jack said. “I can check my appointment calendar if it’s a matter of concern to you.”

She watched him for a long moment, but she knew she was wasting time. It was not as if she had a meaningful choice.

She turned back to Luther. “I’m sure Mr.Wingate and I will get along splendidly. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Good question,” Jack said. “I can work out the probability of disaster if you give me a little time.”

She pretended to ignore him and kept her attention on Luther.

“Well, then, that’s settled,” Luther said. He looked relieved.“Let’s get back to the details of this case. How did you and Clara Dover become acquainted, Miss Ryland?”

Might as well get it over with,Prudence thought.

“I grew up in my grandmother’s house in San Francisco,” she said. “She made her living as a psychic, and she raised me in the profession. Her stage name was Madame Oriana. She specialized in reading and interpreting dreams. She managed to build a reputation with the city’s social set. Clara Dover was an occasional client. You could say I inherited her after Grandma died.”

Jack looked intrigued. “She asked you to interpret her dreams?”

“Yes,” Prudence said.

“What sort of dreams did she want you to analyze?” Jack said.

“Not surprisingly, she was mostly interested in discovering what her intuition was attempting to tell her regarding her business.”

“Did she ever make any decisions based on your readings?”

“I never had to actually read her dreams to try to figure out what her intuition was saying. I thought I made it clear: Clara is a very forceful woman. She doesn’t actually listen to anyone else, and she certainly doesn’t take advice from others. On the occasions when I met with her, she sat on the other side of the table and told me what she was sure her dreams were trying to tell her. I, in turn, advised her to pay attention to her intuition.”

Jack nodded once as if she had again confirmed some conclusion he had already arrived at. “Got it. In other words, you told her what she wanted to hear.”

“As I’m sure you’ve discovered in your own career, it’s usually wise to tell clients what they want to hear.”

“Did you make exceptions to that rule?” Jack asked.

“Yes. But telling clients what they don’t want to hear rarely goes well. I’m sure you’ve learned that lesson, too.”

He had the grace to wince. “I won’t argue that point.”

“There’s a reason I got out of the psychic dream readingbusiness, Mr.Wingate. I am much better suited to working with books. I was an excellent librarian.”

“Right up until you got fired,” Jack observed.

She managed what she hoped was a serene smile. “I can certainly understand why you have trouble dealing with clients.”

“They are a nuisance,” he agreed. “Moving along—in your professional opinion, does Clara Dover have any genuine psychic talent?”

“Yes, I think so.”

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