For Love Or Money. Elizabeth Bevarly

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      Marcus swerved into the shoulder a bit, but recovered admirably. “Spontaneous combustion?” he echoed.

      Dinah nodded. “Pretty nefarious, huh?”

      “You said it.”

      He glanced over at her again, and the slash of illumination from a bluish-tinted street lamp briefly threw his features into stark contrasts of shadow and light. He had such incredible cheekbones, she noted, not for the first time. And he looked so handsome and dramatic, all dressed in black—black jeans, black sweater, black leather jacket.

      Two words, she thought. Yum. Mee. And two more words. Major loss. To the feminine gender, at any rate. Honestly. It sure was a good thing that she was a level-headed woman. Otherwise, she might very well have fallen in love with him by now. And wouldn’t that just be about the dumbest thing she’d ever done in her life?

      Yeah, good thing she was so level-headed.

      “So how high a height are we talking here?” Marcus asked, stirring her from her musings.

      “Well, tower-height, obviously,” Dinah replied. “Though the castle was up on a big hill, too, so a bit higher than tower height, I guess. It was the only way the gypsy family could keep my ancestor from committing those nefarious deeds. It’s also why so many members of my family live at sea level, and why none of us work in tall buildings. If anyone in my family goes too high up, we pay for it. Big time.”

      “How so? Surely someone in your family has tested the curse by now, haven’t they? After all, it’s been hundreds of years.”

      “Oh, yes. Several people have tested the curse.”

      “And?”

      “They’ve all met with nefarious ends.”

      There was a moment of silence from Marcus, then, “What happened to them?” he asked.

      “Oh, gosh, all kinds of things,” Dinah said. “For example, there was my Uncle Sebastian, who tried to climb Mount McKinley.”

      “And what happened to him?”