Preview
Summer in San Remo

by Evonne Wareham

CHAPTER ONE

Cassie Travers had handled a few unusual commissions in her time, but this one took the prize for the strangest.

She bounded up the last two steps, red hair flying, and threw open the door of her office with a flourish.

‘I have to have a husband by tomorrow morning!’

Benita Wells, her best friend and sole employee, gave her a narrow-eyed look. ‘Anyone’s in particular?’

‘I’m open to suggestions.’

Cassie bounced into a chair, green eyes glowing. She felt wonderful. The view from the window, of Bath’s sloping streets of honey-coloured stone, was magical, even in the rain. Everything was wonderful. They had a new job. An interesting job. There’s even an outside chance we might make some money.

Benita swivelled around to look her over. Cassie grinned. The grin was her secret weapon. She used it on clients, estate agents, car mechanics. If you could get the target to smile back, you were halfway home.

Unfortunately, it rarely worked on Benita.

Cassie knew what was coming. They’d been doing this routine ever since primary school. Bennie was the straight guy and voice of reason.

‘You left here for a meeting – what, an hour ago?’ Benita demanded. ‘Now you’re getting married? Did I miss something?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Only you, Cass!’

‘Stop making me sound like some sort of flake! We have a new client – Gerald Benson.’

‘And?’

‘He has a really simple job for us. All I have to do is fix myself up with a husband, by tomorrow.’

‘That’s simple?’ Benita moved a file from one side of her desk to the other, with ominous calm. ‘Look, I hate to break this to you, Cass, but I think it takes a little longer than twenty-four hours to arrange a wedding, even if you’ve got a man in mind. Which I know you haven’t.’

‘I might have.’ Cassie pouted, swinging her legs.

Benita blew out a breath, ruffling her fringe. ‘Honey, when there’s a man in your life, the whole world knows about it. You sing. Under your breath. All the time!’

‘I do?’ Cassie stopped swinging, startled.

‘Yes. It’s a testament to the excellence of my temper that you still live. If you want to continue to do so, you’d better tell me what the hell you’ve got us into now, and why you need a husband to do it. What does this man Benson want us to source for him?’

‘Nothing. Yeah, I know.’ Cassie held up her hand. ‘That’s what the agency is supposed to do, but not this time. This is different.’

‘Cassie – we don’t do different. We agreed when we set the business up that we wouldn’t take jobs that didn’t fit the brief. We don’t take just any old odd job. We’re a concierge service.’

‘A damn good one.’

Benita waved aside the interruption, refusing to be distracted. ‘We source goods and services for people who don’t have the resources or the time to do it for themselves. If this guy Benson doesn’t want restaurant reservations, or a butler, or a new house, or tickets for the centre court at Wimbledon, he’s not for us.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Cassie sighed. ‘But that was before the not-so-petty cash went missing.’ Stolen. It was stolen. Cassie scooped her hair away from her face. ‘We’re up against it, Bennie. Right now, a job is a job. Any job. This is strictly a one-off – Benson and his wife have been left a house by a reclusive uncle, who was very keen on the sanctity of marriage. There are conditions that have to be fulfilled, to prove that the Bensons are a loving couple and worthy of inheriting. It was Benson’s childhood home. If he doesn’t deliver, it goes to a distant cousin who wants to knock it down.’ Cassie speeded up before the objection that was brewing on Benita’s face made it out of her mouth. ‘The problem is, Mrs Benson is into mountain climbing. Ten days ago she went off with her sister to climb Ben Nevis or something. Benson doesn’t know where she is, and the first condition happens tomorrow.’

‘So …’ Benita frowned. ‘He wants us to find her?’

‘No-ooo.’ Cassie pursed her lips. This was the tricky bit. ‘He …’ There was no easy way to do this. She plunged in headlong. ‘Uh … He wants me to be her. Just for tomorrow, to collect some papers. He wants me, and my husband, to pretend to be them, while he goes off to find the real Mrs B, and brings her back as soon as possible.’

‘Well!’ Benita exhaled loudly, opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. ‘Cassie, that is the most outrageous load of bull I’ve ever heard in my life!’

‘Yes, I thought so too,’ Cassie agreed. ‘I was about to walk out. That was when he mentioned the fee.’

She delved into her bag and produced a banker’s draft, putting it down carefully on the desk.

Benita’s eyes nearly fell out of her head when she read the amount.

‘That’s … that’s …’

‘Incredible,’ Cassie helped her out. ‘I know, but it’s legitimate. I rang the bank. There are enough funds to cover it.’

‘The cheque might be legitimate, but the job can’t be.’ Benita shook her head slowly. ‘No one pays money like that for something so stupid. It has to be something else. Something big and nasty. Drugs, money laundering – or worse.’

‘Yes. And I would really like to know what.’

‘Hey! Come on! This is way beyond our pay grade. We shouldn’t be touching it with a ten foot pole!’

‘If we don’t do it, someone else will.’ Cassie tapped the cheque. ‘This money is good. We need it. I propose we do the job, but we also try to find out what Benson is up to.’

‘No way! You could get hurt. You could get arrested. You could get me arrested!’

Cassie puffed out her lower lip. ‘I can take care of myself.’

Benita looked sceptical. ‘Cassie, you do realise that doing this job involves helping someone commit fraud?’

Cassie pouted. ‘Only a little, little bit.’ She held her finger and thumb up, to illustrate just how little.

The set of Benita’s mouth told her how much she wasn’t convinced. ‘Still fraud.’

Cassie’s bravado collapsed abruptly. ‘You think I don’t know that?’

She cast a quick glance around the office. The premises were rented, the furniture and technology very definitely pre-loved, but everything here represented years of dreams, followed by months of hard work. Panic squeezed her heart. Now their successful enterprise was under threat from lack of funds. They had serious cash flow problems. And if they had to give it up …

Could she still manage to carry on, somehow? Hold the business together using the old computer on the tiny kitchen table of her flat? She closed her eyes for a moment. If she had to …

But what if this whole thing is genuine?

‘If it was only about Benson inheriting some money, I wouldn’t think of it.’ She really hoped that was true. ‘But this was his childhood home. Where he grew up. He’s clearly loaded and willing to pay stupid money to keep it away from the nasty cousin. You didn’t see him, Bennie. There were tears in his eyes when he spoke about the place.’

‘So now you think he’s for real?’ Benita gave out a frustrated huff.

‘I don’t know!’ Cassie didn’t hide her own frustration. ‘It all sounds mad, and suspicious as hell. But maybe, just maybe, it is real. Maybe that’s why it’s so mad. Tomorrow is only the first step. He’ll be able to fulfil all the other conditions with the real Mrs B, if we can help him with this …’ She shifted in her chair. Is it worth it? ‘I don’t know why he picked us. But he did, and that might just save us from going under. And if it’s not real, then it’s something big, you said that yourself.’

A shiver ran along her spine and settled in her stomach. Why had Benson selected them? It wasn’t pleasant to think that someone believed she was desperate enough to bend the law, even if only in a small way. She’d always been scrupulously honest in her dealing with clients and the business community, and so far she’d managed to keep the full extent of their financial problems from common knowledge too.

Does someone suspect something?

With an effort she shook away the feeling of a shadow tiptoeing over her grave. ‘If the thing is criminal. More criminal,’ she amended, when she saw Benita’s face. ‘Then what we’re doing is investigation. And we are absolutely the best people to do it. It’s the only way to find out more about Benson. He’s invited us into his scheme, after all. If we do the job and find out more, then we can take the whole thing to the authorities.’ She sighed. ‘We’ll probably lose Benson’s money, but maybe there will be a reward, or something. She tilted her head inquiringly at Benita.

‘Inspector Brown.’ Benita said decisively. ‘We tell him. He owes us one, after he sent us that woman who’d lost her Great Dane.’

The two women looked at each other and shuddered simultaneously.

‘Good call,’ Cassie approved, as soon as she’d recovered.

‘Huh!’ Benita aimed an accusing finger at Cassie. ‘I vowed I’d never even think about that case again. It should have been a lesson to both of us. That was a job we should never have taken.’

‘But the lady was very grateful when we found him. And she did stay and help clean up the office.’

‘Yes, she did. And paid up promptly, with a bonus on top,’ Benita admitted, laughing. Then her face sobered. ‘Seriously, Cass, I think you should put that cheque from Benson in an envelope and send it straight back. Tell him we don’t want his job or his money.’

‘Mmm.’ Cassie shook her head. ‘The trouble is, we do.’ The euphoria that had wafted her back from the meeting with Gerald Benson had all but evaporated. ‘I know it’s scary, but we do need this cash. We’re going to have a hard time keeping the business afloat with what we make from finding hot tickets and collecting dry cleaning. What with the utility bills and next quarter’s rent due.’ She fingered the cheque. ‘Look, let’s just say that we consider it as a short-term loan until we get back in the black? We won’t touch it unless we absolutely have to, but it will be there if we really need it.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Of course, absolutely the best thing would be to get our stolen funds back from that toad, Jason Fairbrook.’

Cassie’s stomach was tying itself into a knot. It always did when she thought of Jason. Her hands itched too – to wrap themselves around his neck and squeeze. She’d given him her heart and the keys to the safe. He’d broken one and emptied the other.

She’d moped for three weeks.

Now all she wanted was to hunt down the good-looking, sexy cheat and get back what he’d stolen. She was working on it, between paying customers. He’d let slip once that his aunt had a place in the South of France that he visited often. I am going to catch up with you, Fairbrook. And when I do …

‘I know we have a cash flow problem, but this doesn’t feel right,’ Benita persisted. ‘We shouldn’t be taking this money.’

Cassie dragged her mind away from her dismal taste in men. ‘Look, sweetie, we both have some funny little habits, like needing to eat regularly. If we don’t get cash soon, there’s a real danger the firm will go belly up. In the grand scheme of things we don’t need a vast sum to keep going, but you know the bank won’t help.’ Cassie ground her teeth. She’d provided every set of accounts, every projection, every bit of paper the bank manager had asked for, but the answer had still been no. As a small business, with few assets except their skills, they didn’t have enough to offer in the way of security. They ran on a shoestring, but it was a successful shoestring. Until Jason.

He’d chosen his moment well. The weekend of their biggest, most prestigious event yet. She’d had no time to do more than wonder, in passing, why so many clients had chosen to settle their accounts in cash on that Friday, but she hadn’t dwelt on it. She’d found out afterwards, of course. Jason had asked them to, offering substantial discounts as an incentive. Those missing payments, and the regular sums he’d managed to skim out of the current account, had left them with almost nothing. She’d taken justified pride in her business savvy and organisational skills, but she’d still been taken for a fool. The fee from that big event was keeping them going, day-to-day. And every week more enquiries were coming in, from recommendations and word of mouth. In a few months … but she might not have a few months. Frustration simmered in her veins. She’d been so close to all her dreams, only to see them melting away. Because of a con artist.

But now …

She nodded at the cheque. ‘If we have to, that cash is rent and wages and the whole damn thing.’ She dropped her voice persuasively. ‘Come on, Bennie. Let’s go for it.’

She saw her friend hesitate. She knew what she was thinking. They’d both put too much into the agency to let it go without a fight. Benita took a very deep breath. ‘All right.’ She nodded. ‘I must be mad.’

‘Not so that you’d notice, and you’re in good company.’ Cassie rubbed her hands. ‘To work. Got to get me a temporary husband. Ring Simon and—’ She broke off when Benita shook her head.

‘Simon is backpacking in Peru.’

‘Since when?’

‘He left yesterday.’

‘Oh well – Michael then.’

‘Still in traction.’

‘Paul?’

‘Last I heard he was helping the police with their enquiries.’

‘I don’t believe this! What are we going to do?’

There was a long, anguished pause.

At last Benita spoke, ‘There’s only one thing we can do.’ She stirred the pencils in a pot on her desk, without looking up. Cassie watched her expectantly. ‘You have to call in Kings,’ Benita announced in a rush.

‘Kings?’ Cassie frowned. ‘Wenceslas? Elvis? Kong?’

‘Jake McQuire’

‘Ahhhhh!’ Cassie sounded as if someone was pulling her toenails out with pincers. ‘No way! I would rather give you my best cashmere sweater than associate with that man.’

‘You only have the one cashmere sweater – and you shouldn’t make threats you have no intention of keeping,’ Benita warned. ‘What have you got against Jake?’

‘You have to ask?’ Cassie glowered, her mouth a stubborn line.

‘That was a long time ago. Get over it.’

‘I have. But that does not mean I want to be in the same room with him. Or even the same city,’ she added, muttering under her breath.

‘You know Jake is back in town. You’re bound to run into him eventually.’

‘Not necessarily. But I’ll deal with that when I have to.’ Cassie shrugged when she saw Benita’s disapproving expression. ‘Look, I realise the guy is your husband’s best friend from way back, but he and I – well, let’s just say we don’t get along any more, and leave it at that.’ She ran her eyes around the room, seeking inspiration. ‘There must be someone else. I know, ring the theatre and ask if they’ve got any actors going spare. There must be an understudy hanging about who’d be glad of the chance to earn a few extra quid.’

Benita was shaking her head again. ‘Haven’t you seen the posters? It’s a one-woman show this week.’

‘Oh.’ Cassie hunched her shoulders. ‘The temp agency?’

‘This I have to hear.’ Benita pushed the phone towards her.

‘What?’

‘You – explaining to Miss Potts why you want this guy.’

Cassie huffed in exasperation. Benita saw her chance and took it.

‘Look – if you are going ahead with this crazy stunt, then you need someone who can handle themselves, in case it gets nasty. We have no idea what this man Benson might really be up to. If you’re going to investigate a potential crime, you could use some professional backup. All the people from Kings are highly recommended.’ Benita pointed her finger to stop Cassie breaking in. ‘A detective agency gets asked to do all sorts of things. They are not going to think this is weird. Well, not too weird.’

Cassie’s head went back, but Benita didn’t waver. She just kept on with the stare.

‘I suppose it would be one of the men from the agency, wouldn’t it?’ Cassie said, at last. ‘Jake might not even get to know about it?’

‘No reason he should. He’s not there all the time.’

‘I don’t know why he’s there at all,’ Cassie said irritably. ‘The guy is loaded. He has a huge business empire to run. He should be out there, captaining industry, laying waste the stock market, taking over companies and stripping their assets – when he’s not dating supermodels and playing polo – or whatever else it is billionaires do.’ She was warming to her theme. ‘He should not be messing about with a detective agency!’

‘It’s his mother’s agency. An old family business. She’s been seriously ill and he’s helping out. You know all that. Give the guy a break.’

‘Excuse me? Jake McQuire is the last person to need any breaks. Didn’t he inherit half the world a few years ago? From his father?’

There was a pause. Both women eyed one another.

‘Oh, all right,’ Cassie capitulated. ‘Phone them and hire someone.’ She brightened. ‘Maybe they’ll send that cute blond guy who works out at the leisure centre.’

Benita grinned. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Cassie stretched and stood up. ‘I’ll be in my office, if anyone wants me.’

CHAPTER TWO

Cassie put her feet up on her desk and stared at the ceiling. She was too restless to settle to work for the moment. Images of Jake McQuire floated in her mind. And she didn’t like thinking about Jake McQuire. Too many memories.

Benita and Tony, Cassie and Jake. They’d been friends all through school, part of a much bigger gang, but their foursome had always been special. Everyone had expected them to pair off. Tony and Benita had.

That last glorious summer, in the weeks before Jake went on to university, anything seemed possible. Cassie had been seventeen and wildly in love.

Recollection brought a lump to her throat.

After years of absence, Trevor McQuire had swept back into his son’s life. And everything changed. Trevor was a rich, ambitious man. He’d wanted the same for his son. Instead of university, Jake had gone to New York. Cassie hadn’t seen him since.

Looking back, she knew it had all been for the best. Their love had been just a teenage thing. It would never have lasted.

From the safety of twelve years down the line, Cassie could be cool and mature about it. Which didn’t mean she wanted to run into Jake again. So, he was back in town? So what?

Bath wasn’t that big a city, but now they moved in very different circles. Cassie’s experience of exclusive restaurants and society celebrations was strictly on behalf of her clients. She hadn’t encountered Jake at any of the events she’d organised. If and when that happened she’d be too busy to worry about it. And she wouldn’t be attending anything as a guest where he would be present. Which is fine by me.

Yanking herself out of the past, she put her feet to the floor and reviewed the files on her desk, calling up a spreadsheet on her computer. The agency’s remit – sourcing goods and services – was pretty wide, everything from providing the maid and butler for a special dinner party to waiting at home all day for the gas man to call. But not usually impersonating a client.

Not something she’d ever choose to do in normal circumstances. But circumstances hadn’t been normal since Jason disappeared with their money. Sticking rigidly to her scruples might mean the end of the agency.

Shaking her head, Cassie scanned the spreadsheet. Jenni and Claire, the two postgraduate students who supplemented their funds by delivery sitting and running errands, had everything covered for the rest of the week. Benita would take care of birthday and anniversary reminders, with appropriate shopping, and sort out the final arrangements for a book signing on Wednesday and a gallery opening on Thursday. Which left Cassie with the one-off jobs.

She opened the nearest file and closed it again. She was much too edgy to give her best to a project for kitting out a couple of holiday cottages. The next one was better – contacting old friends and extended family for a lady from Cardiff who was planning a surprise birthday party for her husband, and who didn’t want to be caught making calls. Straightforward and methodical. Cassie pulled the phone towards her and dialled the first Price-Jones on her list.

Jake McQuire stood on the pavement in Walcot Street, staring at the pillar-box red door in front of him. The colour was so typical of the Cassie Travers he remembered that he almost laughed. The single word Concierge was etched on a glass fanlight over the door. A laminated card, pinned to a shiny red panel, gave the opening times of the office. What had he expected? Sober colours and a brass plate? That wasn’t the Cassie he had known.

He looked up at the first-floor windows. Her office was up there. She was up there. She didn’t want to see him. Benita had made that clear. But now there was a job she couldn’t do alone.

He exhaled deeply. What he was about to do was crazy. On an insanity scale of one to ten, it probably hovered somewhere near eleven. He knew it, and he was going to do it anyway. It was too late to back out now. The thing has already started.

He stepped up and gave the door a shove. It opened easily. He put his foot on the stair, and began to climb.

CHAPTER THREE

The sound of a small commotion in the outer office broke into Cassie’s phone calls. She was on her feet, ready to greet a prospective client, when the door swung open.

‘Hi, Slick. How you doing? I hear you’re prepared to pay money to sleep with me.’

Cassie’s chair creaked in protest as she dropped back into it. Her legs had gone to water. She had just enough presence of mind to stop her mouth gaping. The only sound that came out of her throat, when she tried to speak, was a low moan.

He looked … gorgeous. There was no other word for it. Dark hair, those incredible blue eyes, the mouth, the cheekbones, lightly tanned skin, wide shoulders. He was bigger, bulkier with muscle, under the expensive suit.

He was in her office.

‘What the hell are you doing here, McQuire?’

This time she got her legs under control and stood up. He was shutting the door behind him, smiling at Benita as he closed it. That smile …

‘Sorry, Slick? Is there a problem? Benita said you wanted to hire me. Something about needing a husband?’

‘Not you! Someone from the agency.’ The words came out sideways, through gritted teeth.

He was looking around the room, as if he was valuing it. ‘Nice office.’

‘It would look a lot better without you in it,’ she muttered furiously as she caught her breath and unlocked her jaws. She was an adult. She was in control of her life. She could do this. ‘I was expecting one of your employees.’

‘Oh.’ One eyebrow went up. She’d always envied the way he was able to do that. ‘Communications glitch. I thought Benita understood. All my operatives are engaged at the moment. I’m the only one available. I haven’t done much fieldwork lately, but as we’re such old friends—’

‘I wouldn’t dream of putting you to that much inconvenience.’ Cassie convinced her wobbly legs to take her around the desk, as far as the door. ‘You must have a million things to do. Really, it’s not important. Don’t even think about it,’ she insisted, shaking her head and holding up her hand. ‘I can soon find someone else. Much better all round. Nice to see you, Jake. Sorry you’ve been troubled.’

Her fingers slipped on the door handle as she tried to grab it. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when Jake’s hand closed over hers. ‘Cassie.’ Oh, that voice. It trickled into her ears; dark, warm, full of the sound of promises that the bastard was never going to keep. ‘Let’s talk about this, shall we? Benita was quite frank. There is no one else. We’re both business people. I know our situation is – unusual – but I’m sure we can be professional about this.’

Cursing Benita and her big mouth, Cassie wriggled her fingers out from under Jake’s. They were all still there, but they felt funny. Sort of boneless. She stuffed them into her pocket, where they couldn’t get out.

‘I’ll have you know, I’m very professional,’ she defended herself, eyes flashing. ‘I’ve been running this firm for eighteen months. I have a reputation, respect—’

‘Fine,’ Jake cut in, smoothly. ‘I suggest we sit down and do a deal, on a strictly professional level. Forget we have history together. This is work. You have a proposition, I’m interested. We figure something out and we both make money.’

Money.

Cassie’s head jerked up. She might have known. Money was to McQuire what blood was to sharks. Just the scent of it in the water and he’d come circling. And, dammit, if either one of them was going to make any, she needed him.

‘Of course,’ he went on. ‘If you have issues, because of the past—’

‘Issues!’ Cassie hissed. ‘You left town, twelve years ago, without even a backward glance …’ She sucked in a deep breath and pasted on a shark smile of her own. ‘But as you said, that’s history.’ She gave an elaborate shrug and stifled the desire to bang her head against the wall. Or better still, Jake’s head. Aware that he was watching her every move, she crossed the office, sank back into her chair and leaned nonchalantly on the desk.

‘You’re right, of course. We can help each other.’ Oh, that cost her. Pain stabbed at her gut. If I ever get the chance, McQuire will pay for this. And not in money. Blood would be good. Very good.

Following her lead, Jake folded himself into her visitor’s chair. Cassie sighed. He’d not lost an atom of the casual grace he’d had at nineteen. She still remembered that body …

Business, Cassie. Strictly business.

‘Okay, Slick, what’s the deal?’

Succinctly, Cassie outlined Mr Benson’s proposition.

‘And you believe him?’ Jake asked as soon as she’d finished. Cut straight to the chase. She’d always admired his incisive mind.

She shrugged again. ‘There might well be something else going on. Benson might be some sort of crook, which is why we need to be careful. But the man’s money is good.’ She curled her lip as she saw the light in Jake’s eyes. That was the bit that pushed Jake’s buttons.

‘So …’ Jake exhaled. ‘You and I, posing as man and wife, go to London, collect some papers and deliver them to Benson’s flat. We don’t have to meet formally with anyone, or sign anything?’

‘No. It wouldn’t work if we did, seeing as how we are not Mr and Mrs Benson.’

‘Mmmm.’ Jake studied the ceiling, clearly thinking.

Cassie studied his profile, her nerves twitching. All you have to do is reach over the desk, grab him by that expensive designer tie and haul him close, to where his mouth is in kissing distance—

Ahhh! She pulled herself upright, with a wrench that made her rock in her seat. She could feel colour mounting in her cheeks. Where had her imagination been taking her? She felt nothing for this man. She didn’t want to touch him. Hadn’t wanted to for years …

Jake finished inspecting the ceiling and turned back to her, with something speculative in his eyes. She hoped the flush was dying down. What were you thinking?

‘It all seems very simple – which probably means that it isn’t. I daresay we can hack it.’ He was gazing at her now, in a way that made the back of her neck feel hot. ‘Um … this husband-and-wife thing—’

‘Yes?’ She forced her voice to sound as crisp as possible. It wasn’t easy.

‘How realistically do you want to play it? Only I seem to remember—’

‘Well don’t.’ She bounced in her seat. ‘You said it yourself McQuire, this is a business deal. You get a fee.’

‘Yeah, well, I wouldn’t want to waste an opportunity. Have a little fun, and get paid for it.’

‘I don’t think so, thank you.’ She glowered as he grinned.

‘Can’t blame a guy for trying.’ The grin got wicked. ‘And it’s a lady’s prerogative to change her mind.’

A swift flash of temper sparked through Cassie. She’d opened her mouth, to give him the benefit of it, when the irony struck her. She nearly laughed. He’d only offered her what she’d been wondering about, seconds before.

She pulled in a breath. She could do it. She could go to bed with him, and find out exactly how the lean, lithe body she remembered had matured into the hunk in front of her. She could show him what he’d missed; make him want her, then walk away. Just like he did.

Use him, abuse him and toss him aside.

The prospect glowed for a second, before reality hit. Who was she kidding? This man dated starlets and models. Dream on, Cassie Travers.

‘Yes? No?’ He was watching her closely, head tilted questioningly.

‘No.’ She shook her head for emphasis. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, and tempting as the prospect is.’ She arranged her face to show how little she was tempted. Liar. ‘We do the job. Kings gets paid. That’s all.’

‘Ah, yes – the fee.’ His eyes glinted as he settled more comfortably in the chair. He looked so damned at home in her office. ‘I’m always happy to discuss money. But don’t forget, if you change your mind, I’m all yours. Any time, day or night.’

‘If it happens, you will be the first to know.’ Cassie shifted a pile of files to the side of the desk, so she didn’t have to look into his eyes. There was laughter in those blue depths, no question, but there was something else there as well. Something hot. She didn’t want to think about it.

‘As you said, this is a simple job,’ she said briskly. ‘I’m prepared to pay … three-hundred pounds, plus expenses. I take it that’s acceptable, for a few hours’ work?’

‘It’s broadly in line with our regular rates.’

‘Good, then that’s settled.’

‘Er … no. I didn’t say that,’ he corrected blandly. ‘On the surface it’s simple, but who knows? You might need the services of Kings on a retainer. And that costs. Benson paid you up-front. I want half, Slick.’

‘Half! No way! And stop calling me Slick!’

The name took her right back to when she was fifteen and her quick thinking had hauled the gang out of a sticky situation. It still gave her conscience a pang when she remembered it, but hey – it hadn’t been that big a fire. The old sports’ pavilion had been scheduled for demolition in any case. They’d just accidentally helped things along. And learned a lesson about the unpredictable nature of flame into the bargain. A sort of win-win situation, really. Jake had been the first to use the nickname.

‘It’s a compliment,’ he pointed out now. ‘Cassie Travers, slick and smart as paint. Always was, always will be.’

‘Huh!’ Cassie dealt ruthlessly with a treacherous glow that had sprung up, mysteriously, in her chest. ‘I’ve moved on since then. I’m all grown up now.’

‘Mmm, yeah.’ He gave her an appreciative top-to-toe glance. ‘I’d noticed.’

‘Get your mind above the belt, McQuire. We’re negotiating here.’

‘You’re negotiating. I’m stating terms. Half. Of course …’ He paused.

‘Yes?’ Cassie bent forward, hopefully. She should have known better, when she saw the way he was smiling.

‘If you wanted to reconsider the husband-and-wife thing, then naturally I’d have to think about what I was charging …’

‘McQuire! I cannot believe you said that! You think I’m going to sleep with you, just to save money? That is outrageous, disgusting, perverted—’

‘Only if you want it to be, babe.’ He leaned forward, eyes alight. ‘What did you have in mind? Black leather? Masks? Handcuffs?’

A flush of intense heat surged though Cassie’s body. Heat that sent prickles of awareness into the most sensitive parts of her skin. Do not go there. ‘Right, that’s it! Out! Out of my office, now!’

‘Fine.’ He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, uncoiling from the chair. ‘I’ll go. I never argue with a lady. If you have second thoughts, you know where to call.’

He was on his way to the door.

Cassie said something extremely rude under her breath. She hated this, she really did, but she didn’t have any choice. It was McQuire or nothing.

‘All right.’

‘What was that?’ He slanted his head, listening.

‘I said all right,’ she repeated, goaded. Her tongue was almost curled with the effort of speech. She cleared her throat. ‘Come back, please, and we’ll talk – about money,’ she added hastily.

He stayed at the door for a moment. Savouring his victory? Cassie was sure he could see all her mixed emotions clearly in her face. He looked as if he was biting down on another grin. He sauntered back to the chair and sat.

‘Well, Sli— Cassie. Are we on, or not?’

‘Jake …’ Using every ounce of willpower, Cassie summoned up her widest smile.

Jake sat up straight in the chair. He looked surprised, as if something had happened that he hadn’t expected. Cassie blinked, disconcerted by the strange expression in his eyes. She’d finally caught him unawares. How?

With an effort she pulled herself back on track. She had to use whatever she could to salvage this. ‘Look, I know you were joking just now, about us sleeping together. I … overreacted. But the fact is, you don’t need cash. You have shed loads of the stuff. If you could just see your way to—’

‘Sweetheart,’ he interrupted. ‘I’d love to let you have me for free, believe me.’

Whatever it was that had taken him by surprise, it had passed. She knew her eyes flickered, betraying her annoyance. She was the one on the back foot here. All he had to do was stay cool and keep chalking up the points on his side. He was still talking, ‘I have obligations, and the agency has overheads. I want half.’

‘I …’ She took a breath, to give herself time to re-group. Now she had to be the cool one. She leaned back and steepled her fingers, trying to look like a woman wrestling with a hard decision. If she could pull this off …

‘Okay, I admit it. I need you.’ Yes! She’d got the necessary words past her teeth, and the roof hadn’t fallen in. Her nose hadn’t even grown. ‘I agree. You help me and I’ll pay you—’ She hesitated, showing reluctance. ‘—five-hundred pounds.’

‘That’s not half – it’s not even close.’

‘How did you …’ Cassie recoiled, realising too late what she’d done. She’d given away her hand, but someone else had a part in it. A big part. ‘Benita Wells is going to die!’

‘Did Benita know it was meant to be a big secret?’

‘Um …’ Cassie squirmed. ‘Well … no.’ She had to admit it. ‘I suppose not.’

Jake gave her a measuring look. ‘You have a job here that you can’t do alone. I am willing to help.’ He leaned forward. ‘Now is a good time to make a deal, Cass.’

‘There’s never a good time to make a deal with the forces of evil! And that’s where you belong, McQuire, no question.’ She stabbed a finger at him.

‘Bloated capitalists, you mean?’ There was just the hint of a smile. He leaned a fraction closer. ‘So —why not live on the edge a little?’ His voice had gone soft, persuasive. ‘Come over to the dark side.’

Cassie gave him a glare calculated to make a grown man shudder, then weep. It bounced off with no visible effect.

She was going to have to do this.

With a last pang of regret, she caved in.

‘All right. You win. Partners. Fifty-fifty. Shake?’ Without thinking, she stood up and held out her hand. Jake rose and took it.

It was too late to draw back, to wish that she’d had more sense.

His fingers were warm and firm, with an intriguing hint of roughness. She swallowed, hard. McQuire had never been the manicure type. And isn’t that part of the problem?

She had to forget all that, like right now.

‘Partners.’ He nodded as he let her go. ‘I’ll tell my people to talk to your people. Person. Benita. We have a proper contract, or the deal is off,’ he warned.

‘Naturally.’ She faked nonchalance. Bugger. He’d thought of every angle. Not even the tiniest bit of wiggle room. She wasn’t in the habit of reneging on deals, but the chance to be a little … creative … would have been nice. All’s fair in love, war and dealing with Jake McQuire.

‘I’ll get someone on to it straight away,’ he promised. ‘After that, I’m entirely at your disposal.’

‘Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of,’ she muttered as he turned towards the door.

His hand was on the doorknob when she remembered. In the cut and thrust of wrangling with Jake, it had gone right out of her mind. Would it make any difference? Surely Jake would have realised? But she still had to say it. ‘Um … the job … tomorrow. Er … technically it involves us in a fraud.’

‘Sailing close to the wind,’ Jake agreed. ‘But necessary, if we want to find out whether Benson is crooked. If we hit on evidence of illegal activity, I can see that it gets into the right hands.’

Cassie didn’t quite like the spurt of relief that Jake could take care of things. But if it would smooth the way … Presumably detective agencies had channels not available to the general public. ‘Fine. Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow then.’

‘That you will.’ Jake agreed, grinning.

With a brief nod to Benita, who was on the phone, Jake strode across the outer office. Once on the other side of the door he leaned back against it, closing his eyes. Shock rippled through him. Hell – he’d forgotten what a stunner Cassie Travers was. And that smile! She’d looked up, right in the middle of arguing with him, and there it was. Assault with a deadly weapon. Totally unexpected, it had rocked into him, hitting dead centre of his chest. He’d felt it, right down to his toes. He’d almost lost the thread for a couple of beats.

Maybe this thing is going to be more of a challenge than you thought.

Well, bring it on.

The cute kid he’d known had matured into one heck of a woman. She was lovely, and then some – spiky, sassy, sexy as all get out. The red hair he remembered, green eyes, legs and figure to stop traffic – but he’d forgotten how smart that luscious mouth was in dishing out backchat. Cassie Travers took no prisoners. He wasn’t quite clear why she’d decided he was the next thing to Satan’s second cousin, but unpredictability had always been part of her charm. If he got through this without major damage to his pride and his ego, not to mention his wallet, it was going to be a miracle.

He peeled himself away from the door, running a hand through his hair, a reluctant grin on his face. ‘Deal with it, McQuire,’ he told himself softly. ‘You were the sucker who got yourself into this.’

The grin widened. Maybe things wouldn’t shape up the way he’d planned them – but he could always fix that later. He swung onto the stairs, whistling.

However it all went down, working with Cassie was never going to be boring.

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