she left the office, intending to take the bus the couple of blocks to her club, the Caxton. Named after an early female activist, it had been formed a few years back for young, professional women, mostly from legal circles. She enjoyed being part of it and meeting other young women whose interests matched her own. At the club she could relax and freshen up before going on to meet the Hungerford boys at the restaurant. They had assured her they could find it.
It was much too late to go home, home being a small townhouse in a trendy suburb near the river. She was paying it off, but not as quickly as she would’ve liked. There were too many other considerations, not the least of them keeping up the appearance her job required, especially since Blair Skinner had taken her under his wing. After such a strange and frustrating afternoon, the boys’ unhappy home and financial situation had somehow paled into insignificance beside her own affairs. She would have to get herself back on track. Going up north to visit her mother would address two issues at once. Her own family mystery and how Sheila Hungerford, now Sheila Everett, had come to betray her adored sons.
Lost in thought, Jewel didn’t immediately notice the big silver-gray limousine that was purring alongside her as she strolled along. Finally it caught her attention, and she swung her head. Shock was like a live wire sparking inside her. The face that looked out at her belonged to Keefe Connellan. She couldn’t believe it. Was he following her? He was seated in the rear of the chauffeur-driven vehicle, the window wound down. He called to her, his tone of voice quietly authoritative.
“Ms. Bishop.” The limousine slid into a loading zone a short distance ahead, and he emerged from the back seat, leaving the door open and looking toward her. “Could you spare a moment?”
Her pulse picked up and the blood tingled through her veins. She hated the way he was looking at her. “I don’t think so, Mr. Connellan. I have an evening appointment.” She spoke doubtfully, as if it were a regretful statement of fact. She was careful not to reveal her unease.
“Are you going home?” He, too, kept his tone polite—but managed to sound somehow derisive.
“As it happens, I’m off to my club.”
“The Caxton?”
It seemed he approved. Not that she cared. She dropped her pretense, realizing she was under careful scrutiny. “Now, how did you discover that?”
He smiled, a white flash that attracted her in spite of herself.
“Would you believe I have a marvelous networking system?” he said. “Please get in. You’re not five minutes away, if we drive you.”
Jewel took a decisive step to one side, head up, shoulders straight. “That’s quite all right. I like to walk.”
“Obviously, since you’re in the best of shape.” His glance licked over her. “But indulge me.”
“What, after today?” Those black eyes made her think of the Medicis and hidden daggers.
“I’m interested in talking to you further,” he said mildly, his expression giving nothing away.
“Really? There’s nothing to learn.”
“We both know there is.” He stared down into her face, then he put out a hand and gently grasped her arm.
Jewel’s knees turned to mush.
“You’re forcing me into your car?” She lifted her brows, feeling an unwelcome thrill she sought to banish.
“I never forget my manners.”
“You forgot them this afternoon.” Knowing she had little chance of getting away, short of screaming, Jewel slid into the back seat of the Rolls. A smartly uniformed chauffeur sat behind the wheel awaiting instructions. He didn’t turn his head.
“The Caxton, Jacob,” Keefe Connellan said. He got in beside Jewel, shutting the door.
“Yes, sir. I know it.”
Keefe Connellan focused his attention on Jewel, while the chauffeur activated a device to bring up a glass partition between front and back seats.
“This is a lot like getting kidnapped.”
He looked at her in mock amazement. “Please don’t feel threatened. There’s nothing wrong with privacy.”
“So you’re a private investigator now.” Jewel leaned back slightly, her nostrils beguiled by the scent of the plush leather.
“Lady Copeland is someone I care about,” he said curtly, revealing the anger beneath the smooth surface.
“She has a son,” Jewel said pointedly.
“Obviously.” He watched her in a way she couldn’t fathom. “She has a granddaughter, too.”
“Amelia. Yes, I know.” Jewel glanced out the window at the homebound crowds. “I’ve often seen her photograph in the social pages. She’s very beautiful. Do you care about her, too?” She tossed her head defiantly, pleased that she’d rattled him.
“Why? Is it any of your business?”
“In my view, yes. If you think it’s within your rights to investigate me, why should you object to my right to investigate you? Unless you think being very wealthy gives you some authority over the rest of us.”
He turned his lean body so he was confronting her. “What is it, Ms. Bishop, that you hope to achieve? To get close to Lady Copeland? To make yourself a member of the family? You don’t know Travis.” He shook his head. “He won’t be very pleased to welcome you. Neither will Amelia. You’re already the cause of intense emotional anguish.”
“How?” Jewel demanded, holding his eyes. “No speaking in tongues this time. How exactly?”
His answer, when it came, took her completely by surprise. “You’re pretty damn amazing, you know that?”
“I don’t care for you, either.” She was barely able to remain seated beside him. Large as the interior of the Rolls was, she had never felt so claustrophobic. “In fact, I’ve never met a man I find so hateful.”
“Words. Mere words, Ms. Bishop. What you are is somewhat wary of me. As you should be.”
“Particularly as you appear to be stalking me.”
His laugh was unexpected and profoundly attractive. “I prefer to say ‘running a few checks.’”
“Well, I hope you’ve dropped Blair Skinner from your investigation,” Jewel said. “He’s as straightforward as anyone you could meet.”
He pondered that a while. “I wouldn’t have thought him the sort of man to pull something like this.”
“Something like what?” Her eyes opened wide in indignation. “This colossal con? Is that what it’s supposed to be?”
He smiled slightly, no humor in it. “Perhaps if I keep you off balance, you’ll crack.”
“To hell with that!” Jewel muttered, one arm extended toward the door. “There is where I get off.”
“Of course.” He nodded his coal-black head. “Perhaps you’ll invite me inside for a drink. I haven’t seen the place since they renovated. One of our subsidiary companies did the job. Leave the door,” he advised. “You can depend on Jacob to open it.”
Jewel took a deep breath, glancing at him slowly. “Oh, what it is to be rich!” she said in a bitter voice. “Attendants on every side—and the power to inspire fear.”
“When did you decide you wanted that, too?” he asked tautly.
“I have enough money to live on.” She shot him a disgusted look.
“You’ve got no money,” he corrected, rather indolently.
“I beg your pardon.” She thought she’d been holding her own but that got to her. He had taken the time to find out everything,