Page 2 of Betrayal

“What else did Antonio say?”

“The new owner might be financially stretched enough to welcome the offer of a long-term lease on one floor.”

“He’s got a point.”

“You’re right, and the property’s perfect.”Anna sighed.“So I’ll be charm personified when I try to reopen negotiations, even if the owner has an electronic calculator in place of a heart and a father fetish.”

“Who bought it?”Bea prepared for her meetings with meticulous care.

“H.S.Thompson was all the managing agent would give me.Who names their child after a famous dead journalist, for Pete’s sake?”

Bea held up a hand.“So, why didn’t you send an apology for this shindig?”

“Antonio wanted a presence and reminded me it was my turn to come.‘Cocktail parties loosen tongues and increase personal contacts,’” Anna repeated Antonio’s encouragement.

“Networking—naughty and nice?”Bea grinned.“Bet you didn’t tell him you were gonna wear yourKilling Evedress.He’s an understanding boss, but Antonio was present when you took that last dude down, and it probably wasn’t what he had in mind tonight.”

“I’m wearing it tonight to exorcise my rage, so I can renegotiate from a place of calm.”Anna waved her hand from her head to her belly in a gesture of serenity.“But, you’re right, I should go.”

“On the basis that researching the buyer trumps glad-handing strangers?”

“On the basis I might bite someone’s head off when I’m meant to charm.Like the guy looking this way.”Anna had been aware of the guy for a while.Now, she put her hand on Bea’s arm and adjusted their positions.“Make it casual.Over my shoulder, about two o’clock.The guy with the lean and hungry look.”Anna’s pulse raced, a lick of interest curling through her body.

“He’s just looking at this stage.”Bea’s husky contralto oozed intrigue.

“Who is he?”

“I don’t recognise him, but he wouldn’t have got past security without an invite.”Bea took a sip of her drink.“Mid-thirties, tall, dark, broody rather than handsome, and on his own.He’s perfected the stiff-backed, imperious, don’t-mess-with-me look.Out of place in a crowd like this.Do you want me to find out?”

“Yes.”Anna sipped her icy mineral water and waited a heartbeat.“No.”

“Well, that’s clear.”Bea flashed her dimples.

“Yes, because I should care if he’s competition.And Antonio would expect me to.”Anna frowned; her charming, vivacious and interested impulses were flatter than a cane toad daring to cross a Queensland country road.“No, because I’ve exhausted my store of goodwill for rich, entitled entrepreneurs.”

“You’ve never had any time for rich and entitled.”Bea flicked a glance back toward the stranger.“Although it’s impossible to tell if someone’s rich or an entrepreneur by their Rolex or bespoke suit these days—think Mike Cannon-Brooks.But broody guy’s a possibility.”She wiggled her shoulders sexily.“Be still, my beating heart.”

“You want him?”Anna rolled her eyes.

“I just got a little distracted”—Bea sighed—“but he looks way too complicated for my lifestyle.Anyway, returning to our topic, how do you figure H.S.is entitled?”

“Because it’s a raid.”Anna bit her lip.“The property wasn’t on the market.He’s made an unsolicited purchase.”

“If you keep flouncing about like that, your dress will slip straight off your boobs and you’ll create the kind of feeding frenzy you hate.”

“My subconscious was sabotaging me.”Anna used her drink as cover for her quick tug on her dress.“I dressed with H.S.and Armageddon in mind.”

“In this crowd, the only people likely to approach you will be people who don’t know you and have minds turned to mush by lust.”By contrast, Bea looked wholesomely sexy in a classic, self-patterned powder-blue jumpsuit.

“You’ve convinced me.”Anna started to edge toward the door.“I’ll leave now.”

“Warning,” Bea stage-whispered.“Mr.Two-o-Clock is coming this way.”

“Damn.”Despite her indifference to the lavish compliments from the face-reading experts, Anna summoned her sincere, interested, likely-to-instil-confidence-in-the-most-cautious-of-clients professional smile.The expert had never seen it paired withThe Dress.

“Hello.I don’t believe we’ve met.”His pick-up line lacked originality, but the gravelly baritone could launch an entire collection of intimate apparel.He’d inherited a face of sharp angles, slashing cheekbones, and a chiselled jaw—conventionally handsome, although she understood Bea’s choice of broody.His dark chocolate gaze held her attention despite her desperate need to escape, his eyes hinting at secrets he never intended to share.“I’m Hunter.”

“Is that your name, or your current intention?”Bea’s gasp told Anna she’d actually asked the question out loud.

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