"There were just three lines in the article about your aunt, Tamara," Rex reminded her softly. The gentleness she'd yearned for was in his eyes, but she was in no mood for it now.

"There wouldn't have been anything at all if you hadn't given out that crazy story," she said, glaring at him. "If you've hurt Aunt Elizabeth, I'll murder you, Rex Brody!"

"You're jumping to conclusions," he said, frowning. "You don't know if she's even seen it yet."

Jenny looked from one belligerent face to another and hastily rose to her feet. "If you don't want any more breakfast, Tamara, why don't we get on our way?" She turned to Rex. "If I don't see you before I leave for the ranch, break a leg tonight."

"Thanks, Jenny," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He turned a flinty stare on Tamara. "I'll see you at dinner," he said commandingly.

Before Tamara could form a fittingly indignant answer to this arrogance, Jenny had whisked her from the room. Five minutes later they'd left the apartment and were on their way down to the car park and Jenny's cream-colored Mercedes.

The next few hours cemented a friendship between the two women. After the brief civic meeting, Jenny took Tamara to her favorite tearoom for lunch. They became so involved in exploring their mutual interests and backgrounds they never did make the proposed shopping expedition.

After their third cup of coffee, Jenny leaned back in her chair and made a confession in her usual frank manner. "You know, I was quite prepared to detest you when Rex called and asked permission to bring a guest with him to stay at the apartment. He'd never brought a woman with him before, and after I saw that story in the newspaper I was sure some vamp had gotten her claws into him." She grinned sheepishly. "Rex is very special to Steve and me. That's the real reason I came back early from San Francisco. I wanted to protect him from your evil wiles."

Tamara shook her head. "Rex is quite able to take care of himself from what I've seen," she said dryly.

Jenny lifted a skeptical brow. "Rex has a soft streak where his friends are concerned. He's fantastically loyal; he'd walk on hot coals to help a friend. I thought perhaps you'd managed to tap that core of loyalty."

"Well, you needn't worry. I'm not about to try to shear your little lamb," Tamara replied. On the contrary, she thought miserably, she was the one that had been left unhappy and vulnerable by their relationship to date.

"Oh, I knew that the minute I saw your face when you caught me in Rex's arms yesterday," Jenny said serenely. "I never saw anyone so shocked or heartbroken. I was quite relieved." Her eyes grew serious as she continued. "The real reason I wanted to get you alone was I wanted to explain something about Rex. I couldn't help but notice you were at each other's throats this morning, and I know the reason is none of my business." She looked down at her coffee thoughtfully. "Sometimes Rex can be very defensive. He had a childhood that would have permanently scarred most people-a mother who drank herself to death when he was thirteen, a father who deserted him and left him to fend for himself on the streets. His Aunt Margaret is the only one who ever displayed any family affection for him, and she didn't appear on the scene until after his father died when Rex was sixteen. It's a wonder that Rex lets anyone close to him. I just wanted to ask you to try to be patient with him."

Tamara's lips twisted wryly. "At the moment that request borders on the impossible."

Jenny sighed. "Well, I tried." She changed the subject briskly. "Are you going to Rex's opening show tonight?"

Tamara's lips tightened and her violet eyes clouded stormily as she remembered Rex's dictatorial demand that she join him for dinner. "I most certainly am not," she said tersely.

Jenny eyed her shrewdly. "Nor are you going to show up for dinner." It was a statement, not a question.

Tamara shook her head.

"I didn't think so," Jenny said, her eyes dancing. "Rex was a bit autocratic. May I suggest an alternate plan for the evening?"

"Be my guest," Tamara answered promptly. There was no way she wanted to be alone today. Between worrying about Aunt Elizabeth, and her depression and annoyance with Rex, she needed Jenny's cheerful presence as a bulwark.

Jenny's silver eyes were eager with excitement as she leaned forward. "Let's go to Lucky Creek tonight."

Tamara stared in surprise. "To that kooky witches' coven? But that was just a practical joke."

"But what if it wasn't?" Jenny asked excitedly. "Wouldn't you like to get a peek at a real witches' coven? And ghost towns are fascinating places, Tamara. That alone would be worth the drive."

Tamara frowned doubtfully. "I don't know if I like the idea of surprising a bunch of weirdos in a deserted ghost town."

"Oh, we wouldn't let them see us. We'd just take a peek at what was going on and then leave."

Why not? Maybe it would be interesting, and Tamara couldn't find it in her heart to disappoint Jenny. The other woman's face was as radiant as that of a child expecting a birthday treat.

"What time do you think we should leave?" she asked indulgently.

"First we'll go back to the apartment and check the location of Lucky Creek and see how far it is,"

Jenny said briskly. "Steve gave me a map that lists all of Nevada's ghost towns."

The following hours flew by on wings supplied by one Jenny Jason, who proved a dynamo of activity. After discovering to her pleased surprise that Lucky Creek was only about fifteen miles from her ranch, she'd insisted on Tamara leaving with her immediately for her home and spending the evening there before they began their witch hunt. After Tamara complied with Jenny's imperious order that she change to jeans and a black shirt for their midnight jaunt, they set out for Jenny's ranch.

The Jason ranch house was a gem of a Spanish hacienda with a rambling white stucco facade. Exquisite wrought iron grillwork fronted the windows and there was a beautiful courtyard, complete with a graceful fountain. The interior was just as lovely, furnished in beauty and comfort, but still retaining a warm, glowing hominess. Or perhaps the glow was provided by Jenny and the inhabitants of the gracious hacienda, Tamara thought, with a touch of wistfulness.

That evening she enjoyed a magnificent meal provided by Jenny's cook, Mike Novacek, who seemed to be more family than employee. She even met Mike's wife, Connie, a sandy-haired beauty with a superb figure and the warmth and gentleness that seemed to be inherent in the people living in this wonderful house. Connie was acting as nanny for Jenny's son, Sean, and was utterly besotted with the two-year-old pixie. Tamara could readily see why when she met the young heir. His golden hair, silver eyes, and smile that would melt an iceberg made her his immediate slave.

It was eleven-thirty when Tamara and Jenny left the ranch and almost midnight before they reached the outskirts of Lucky Creek. Tamara's apprehension had been growing by leaps and bounds during the drive.

As Jenny parked the Mercedes in a grove of cotton- woods a little distance from the town itself, Tamara ventured a tentative comment. "It looks deserted. Perhaps it was just a practical joke after all."

Jenny shook her head, her silver eyes shining with excitement as they searched the deserted streets and ramshackle wooden buildings for signs of life. "I'm sure it was legitimate. Don't be discouraged. A coven wouldn't exactly advertise its presence. It's not their style. We'll just have to do some reconnoitering until we find where they're meeting." She quickly jumped out of the car and set off briskly toward the main street of the ghost town.

Tamara followed more slowly, a wry smile curving her lips. Discouraged! She would have liked nothing better than to give up this little adventure and was fervently berating herself for the impulse that had led her to give in to Jenny's persuasions. This desolate and deserted place filled her with a nameless uneasiness. The dark, gaping windows seemed to be watching them as they made their way down the overgrown, rutted main street, and there was an odd aura of something waiting beyond those dark windows and boarded-up doors.