The millionaireâs redemption...
When Sedonaâs most eligible bachelor is accused of murdering a local psychic, medium Phoebe Carlisle finds herself drawn into the danger that surrounds himâby the meddling of the shades she channels and by his irresistible charms. A public defender and a gifted medium, Phoebe is devoted to justiceâand not just for the living. Proving Rafe Diamanteâs innocence means conjuring up two shades who were former lovers and now ignite the chemistry between their hosts.
Rafe canât afford to lose control and act on his feelings for Phoebe. His unfulfilled sexual tension begins to stir something inside himâthe legacy of Quetzalcoatl. But as these newfound abilities awaken a dormant power in Rafe, can he stop the real murderer in time to claim his true destiny?
The black ink spiraled over his left pectoral like a segment of conch shell sliced down the center.
Phoebe was having trouble focusing on the tattoo itself. The flesh beneath it was kind of spectacular. She tried not to drool. âWhatâs it mean?â
âItâs an ehecacozcatl. A wind jewel that belongs to the god. Itâs sort of a family coat of arms.â
âYour familyâs ancestry is Aztec?â
âMaybe. Probably not, but who knows? The Diamantes like to say so.â Rafe flashed another of those smiles that were beginning to do funny things to Phoebeâs stomach. Because stomach was the organ involved. Sure.
Rafe started to settle onto the floor in front of the coffee table.
âYouâre keeping the pants on?â Phoebe had to resist rolling her eyes at herself. The words had just jumped out. âI meanâyou said the fabric gets in the way.â
He answered as if she werenât a complete loon. âI figured going fully skyclad would be a little presumptuous.â
Chapter 1
Hello vertigo and free-floating anxiety, my old friends. Phoebe let the familiar nausea-inducing miasma wash over her as the lights in her Sedona ranch house flickered and went out. The latter might be reasonably explained by the summer storm rolling over the desert, downed power lines, the fact that the old house had bad wiring, maybeâif it were anyone but Phoebe. But sheâd driven around the bend of reasonable and onto the unimproved county road of completely certifiable a long time ago.
The dead and Phoebe had an uneasy truce. Sheâd given up trying to ignore them, because looking like the crazy lady who occasionally talked to herself was infinitely preferable to public outbursts worthy of an exorcist. She agreed to help them find justice, or closure, or peaceâas long as they backed off when she told them to.
The electrical activity of a rainstorm actually brought them out. Or gave them energy to manifest, anyway. Theyâd been mumbling about her all day, the spectral aura of a migraine telling her somebody wanted in.
The shade trying to step in right now was new at it, making the room swim around Phoebe in gut-churning waves.
Phoebe stood over the couch with a death grip on the back of it, teeth clenched to keep from losing her lunch on the faux leather upholstery, trying to focus on the room through the dark bob of her ponytail swinging in front of her eyes. âFor the love of Mike. Just step in already. The damn doorâs open.â
As if in contradiction to her statement, the kitchen door slammed behind her, yanked by the air being sucked through the house in the wind tunnel created between the front entrance and the screen door opening onto the back porch. There was nothing better than the smell of petrichor stirred up by an oncoming storm. Phoebe had left the doors open to let it clean out the house and freshen things up. Given her housekeeping habitsâand Puddleglumâs litter box habitsâany little bit helped.
The storm-dark sky visible through the windows in front of her lit up for an instant with a horizontal bolt of lightning, and the answering crack of thunder came swiftly.
âI think he set me up.â The uncertain murmur had come from her own lips. The shade was in.
âItâs okay.â Phoebe spoke aloud, though it wasnât necessary. Someone else talking through her was bad enough without answering in her head. She had some mental dignity left. âYou can talk to me. Youâre safe here.â