Heart Search by Robin D. Owens Page A

considerably higher than here. So my ‘trade’ will not go as far.”
    “That’s right. But I can get you in, which I don’t think you’d be able to do on your own. We’re talking the highest class of nobles. Think of the business you might do, the connections you might make, the information you might gather . . . at the very least, you’ll be able to study how they think. Noblemen and -women of the highest class.”
    Camellia narrowed her eyes. “You’re a member?”
    “Yes. But you won’t be working with me. My level and sessions are strictly for professional fighters.”
    “Oh. Maybe. I’ll think about it—”
    “You’ll outclass your father in this, too,” Acacia said.
    “Done,” Camellia said.
    Her teacher slung an arm around Camellia’s shoulders, squeezed. “Let’s head for the waterfalls.”
    Loosening her muscles as she walked, feeling twinges as she stripped in a small cubicle and went into one of the sectioned-off stalls, Camellia called to Acacia, “You know one of my best friends is a priestess, right? I’ve been getting advice from her, too.”
    Steam rose from another waterfall. “Then you should listen to both of us.”
    Camellia sighed. “She’s on the topic of HeartMates lately.”
    There was a pause and Camellia felt a pulse of surprise from Acacia. “I’d forgotten. You have a HeartMate, don’t you? All the more reason you need to spend time with men.” Acacia’s tones hardened. “You’re lucky to have a HeartMate. I don’t. Most don’t. By the Cave of the Dark Goddess, why aren’t you looking for him?”
    “It’s complicated.” Camellia was more defensive than when she’d been fighting.
    “Oh. And is opening a business and making it successful simple?” Acacia asked.
    “No!”
    “None of the best things in life are.”
     
     
    T he Residence informed Laev that Primross had arrived to discuss business. Laev walked down to meet the man and waved the great greeniron gates open. Brazos gamboled at his side, making forays into the bushes and trees that lined the gliderway.
    Laev also keyed the security spellshield to allow Primross access to the estate during the day. The private investigator stared at Laev from under heavy brows and grunted his thanks.
    They circled the castle, walking over a smooth green lawn that had been tended for centuries, until they reached one of the sacred groves on the estate. This was a small, private place that Laev had claimed when he was a teen—a mere circle of tall birches with a lichened stone bench in the middle. The grass here was not mown but grew wild in the tiny glade. Spring flowers were revealed as spots of color when the breeze moved.
    Laev gestured for Primross to sit, then took a seat himself, looking toward the south and hints of rolling hills instead of toward the great Residence, the city, or the ocean.
    “Nice place.” The words seemed dragged from Primross.
    “Thank you.”
    “Must be some big reason that you don’t want to talk even in the Residence.”
    Laev slanted him an ironic look. “My staff is large, and like most FirstFamilies, they are all relatives. Many are older than I and believe they know my affairs better than I do.”
    Another grunt from Primross.
    “Not to mention the Residence,” Laev continued.
    “What about it?” Truculence laced Primross’s tones, but when he turned his head to look at the castle, his gaze was admiring . . . and with a hint of envy.
    “The Residence is the oldest being in the Family,” Laev said drily. “It will always be the oldest member of the Family. It has centuries of perspective.” He stretched out his legs. “And it has disapproved of me since I was seventeen.”
    “Ah.”
    “There are drawbacks to being from the FirstFamilies,” Laev said.
    Primross stiffened beside him, and Laev knew the man’s prejudices were as strong as ever.
    Laev focused on the unfurling birch leaves and said, “Now for business—”
    “I can guess that, too. The late