The Devil You Know. Laurie Paige

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СКАЧАТЬ he hadn’t seen a woman socially for…mmm, two years?

      Yep, it had been at least that long. Once he’d started working on the police corruption case in LA, he’d been in deep cover. He hadn’t even communicated with his sister except under the most secret of coded messages.

      Even that precaution had failed.

      The thugs had sent hit men looking for her in order to flush him out. She could have been killed—

      He put a halt to his morbid thoughts. All had ended well with the case wrapped up, the hit men and the bad cops behind bars and his life in the open again. Investigating corporate crime was mostly an office job, nine to five and weekends free.

      Free.

      That suited him just fine and that was the way he intended to stay. Women always wanted more—more time, more commitment, more of everything. He’d learned to keep things on a light note.

      “Anyway,” he said, eager to finish the conversation and get out of the cozy bungalow, “I just wanted to let you know I’m too busy to be involved with you in any capacity.”

      There, that should make things clear to her.

      Her dark, delicately arched eyebrows rose as she gave him a lofty perusal.

      “Get over yourself,” she advised.

       Chapter Two

       T he following Friday Roni surveyed the outfits she’d selected, decided they would have to do, and closed her suitcase. If she hadn’t accepted Scott’s invitation a month ago to spend a leisurely weekend at the Masterson family estate, she would have preferred to stay home.

      Ah well, it might do her good to get out of the house and away from the city for the weekend. After months of near total absorption, she’d finished her part of the current project and turned over the files to her boss that morning.

      Reaching a goal usually gave her a lift, but not this time. She was drained mentally and physically, having driven herself to exhaustion the past week to bring the software learning program in on time.

      Hearing the doorbell, she quickly slipped into a denim jacket, glanced around to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, then grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door.

      “Hello. I hope we’re ahead of the traffic,” she said to the handsome young scion of one of the richest families in the area.

      “I’m afraid not. It’s already backed up on the freeway. I drove the back streets to get here. It was faster.” Scott Masterson smiled, took the luggage and held the screen door while she secured the dead bolt. “Ready?” he said when she turned to him.

      “Ready.”

      His car was a top-of-the-line model. Leather seats. Heated, of course. If she could figure out the buttons on the side of the seat, she thought she could probably get a massage, too. Scott caught her amused smile and smiled back.

      He was the country club-tennis set type, with dark hair and eyes, a lean profile, great teeth and smile, charming and polite…everything a maiden’s heart could wish for.

      Another image came to mind—a stern, forbidding face that somehow had the ability to rock her heart. Adam had appealed to her from the first moment they’d met nearly a year ago. Her cousin Zack had been shot while working on a case with the elusive FBI agent.

      She’d also known from the first that Adam was bad news as far as she was concerned. The sparks had been there between them, but he’d stayed aloof. And, as his sister had once said, Adam was like a will-o’-the-wisp, a here today, gone tomorrow type of guy.

      The type to break a girl’s heart into pieces.

      One couldn’t say he didn’t play fair. He’d warned her there would be no involvement of any kind. He was dedicated to his job. Because of its inherent danger, Adam hadn’t allowed close relationships. But that was then, and this was now. Now, he worked in the fraud division, and he’d moved to her territory. Not that this necessarily meant anything, but it was something to think about.

      Her attitude lightened as the miles peeled away beneath the tires. The country road ran alongside the Boise River, first on one bank, then across a bridge and on the other side for a while, leisurely tracing the meander of the rushing water farther into the country.

      Shortly before five o’clock, Scott turned onto a gravel driveway. The roadside was lush with native trees and flowering shrubs that opened suddenly to allow a view of rolling meadows dotted with cattle, then a lawn and a neotraditional-style house—white, two stories, balcony over a broad, welcoming front porch—nestled into a gentle hill.

      “Lovely,” she said.

      “It’s home,” he said modestly.

      She noted the affection in his tone. He’d grown up here and it obviously meant as much to him as the ranch did to her. Her eyes went misty, surprising her. She wasn’t the sentimental sort.

      Growing up with five boisterous boys hadn’t left much time for sentiment, she mused wryly as Scott hit a button, waited for the garage door to open, then pulled into the space. She’d learned early in life not to cry. Tears were wasted on men.

      Blinking the odd moment of emotion away, she saw that the Masterson garage was neater than her house. In fact, there was nothing but cars in it. No lawn equipment or trash barrels or half-used paint cans.

      Yeah, but they have servants, she concluded, excusing her penchant for clutter and familiar things around her.

      “This way,” Scott said, carrying his weekend case and her larger piece of luggage. He probably had a closet full of clothes here as well as in his condo in town.

      They went into a family room or den, then up a flight of steps. His room was next to hers, he told her, indicating a door as he set his case down in front of it. He led the way into the next bedroom. She glanced around while he placed her case on a rack in the spacious closet.

      “This is truly lovely,” she said.

      The room was très chic, done in shades of beige and gold. From the off-white, cream and beige tumbled marble tiles in the bathroom to the solid marble panels surrounding the fireplace, from the light beige carpet to the deeper toned satin comforter shot with gold that covered the bed, it was a study in peaceful luxury.

      Pillows were heaped on the bed, the smallest covered in gold satin with velvet ribbons, the middle ones in tan, beige and gold stripes and the largest ones covered in pillow shams of golden-brown suede cloth.

      Two padded chairs formed an intimate grouping before the fireplace, which was filled with greenery and pinecones and had a many-branched candelabra on the hearth.

      A writing table and chair were placed before two tall windows. From the vantage point of the second floor, she could see the tennis courts where a man and woman played against each other with zealous intent to win.

      She noted the man had brown hair with golden streaks. The woman was all blond, but Roni thought that was with the help of a good hair stylist. Judging from the similarity in facial features, the woman was Scott’s sister. The man’s back was to her, so she couldn’t identify him. She turned СКАЧАТЬ