Fair Game, Inc.

Stephanie Bedwell-Grime

*

Chapter ONE

Tears like crystal raindrops spilled from the pretty blonde's cheeks, splashing down on Amber Shaw's chrome and glass desk. She reached forward, plucking another over-sized deluxe tissue from the silver box on her desk and gallantly handed it to her client. Amber could afford the luxury of scented Kleenex. Business was good.

Afternoon sun caught the silver letters on the door, stenciling them backwards across the gray carpet. "Fair Game, Inc.o the sign read. In smaller letters beneath was the phrase, "Don't get mad, get even!"

She was proud of both the business and the slogan. A year ago things had looked desperate at best. Her business, Shaw Investigations, was days away from bankruptcy, until a good friend called and asked her to track down a straying boyfriend.

Once the errant beau had been located, however, the jilted lover was not content with his address. An additional sum could be Amber's she suggested, if she'd play a simple, harmless prank. With the bailiff at the door, Amber had little choice but to agree. The prank went off without a hitch. Justice was served, the client went on with her life, the straying beau with his, and Amber Shaw found herself back in business for another month.

Or so she thought.

Word spread like wild fire. Everyone, it seemed, had a score to settle, and Amber had found herself a new specialty.

Covertly, she studied her newest client. She was tall, slim, and blonde. Amber couldn't imagine why a man would want to dump a pretty woman like that. She was certain that's what the trouble was. Only one thing made a woman cry like that.

A man.

After that first client, she preferred to work for strangers. Professional detachment was a necessary part of a private investigator's job. Sandy Wylde was a friend of a friend, far enough removed to maintain an air of professionalism.

"Easy now," Amber said in schooled tones. "Cry all you like. Get it all out. Take all the time you need. Then we'll talk about what can be done."

"Men are pigs!" The proclamation was muffled by the wad of scented tissue. Balling up the Kleenex she flung it into the black mesh garbage can. "And I want to teach one particular swine a lesson he'll never forget."

Amber took a silver pen from the holder on her desk and reached for her legal pad. "Let's start with the name of the swine in question."

That simple statement released another flood of tears. Setting down her pen, Amber offered her another handful of tissue.

"Roger...." The rest of the name deteriorated into another wave of shuddering sobs. "Ch-Charles."

Amber filled in the box on the preprinted form she'd designed specifically for this purpose. "And what crime would Mr. Charles be guilty of?"

Guilty, she thought with a grim smile. Most of them were until justice was served, or in the extremely rare case, proven innocent. When she looked up the blood-shot eyes that stared back across the desk at her had hardened to orbs of sapphire fury.

"Desertion," Sandy spat, as if the cause of her anger sat in Amber's chair instead of the woman who was going to settle the score for her. "Cold hearted, heartbreaking desertion."

"I see," Amber checked another box. "Please, bear with me while I take down some necessary background information." She tapped the edge of the pad with her pen. "And what is Mr. Charles' occupation?"

"Advertising executive. That should have been my first clue that he'd be all glitzy talk with nothing beneath the surface to show for it."

"He had a way with words, I take it."

"Oh, he was quite eloquent." Sandy drew in a shaky breath. "He told me I was the gold in the river of his life."

"Hmm, talented, wasn't he?"

"Yes, well, he's presently honing his craft on someone else."

Amber tucked a strand of flame-red hair behind her ear and scribbled some notes in the box marked comments. "I take it Roger, er, Mr. Charles has found a new form of recreation at which to spend his off-hours...?"

Sandy's lip curled. "Her name is Cindy. And he said he didn't even like brunettes."

"I see."

"Oh...." Sandy pulled herself back from the brink of grief and continued resolutely. "I'm so stupid. I was really beginning to believe we were definitely an item. Kind of a permanent item."

Amber reached out to pat her hand. A teardrop glistened in the corner of one sapphire eye. Amber hastily handed her another tissue.

"You wouldn't believe his performance the night he dumped me. He was so sweet. He bought me roses, took me out to a romantic little restaurant. He was leading up to something, I could tell. But by the way he'd been so sweet and loving all night, I just assumed ... you know ... that he was about to pop The Question. But instead he...." Another sob shook her entire body. "He said things just weren't working for him, but that he wanted to remain friends. Can you believe it?"

Amber nodded knowingly. "I've seen this variety of swine before."

"I'm such a fool."

"Don't worry, when we're finished with Mr. Charles he's the one who'll be feeling like a fool."

"Didn't even take him a week to find a replacement for me. You'd think he could at least mourn for a few days, make it look like he at least regretted it a little. Six days after he ditched me I ran into him at what had been our favorite restaurant."

"You spoke with him then?"

Sandy shook her head. "He didn't even see me. He was too busy drinking in the sight of Cindy!" Angrily she swiped at the tear inching its way down her cheek. "Only six days!" She held up six fingers for emphasis.

"Have no fear," Amber said calmly, "I think I can come up with a way to cool Mr. Charles' ardor. Why don't you tell me a little more about the habits of this particular specimen: his routine, where we'd be most likely to track him down?"

Best to keep them thinking, Amber knew from experience. It kept their minds off their grief.

"I'm sure we can find him at The Terrace Restaurant," Sandy growled, looking all the more like a golden lioness than a jilted lover. "With what's her name."

Amber scribbled down a few more points. "The Terrace Restaurant ... he goes there often?" Sandy swallowed, no longer grieving, bent now on the revenge to come. "He said it was our place. Apparently, he says that to all his girls." Amber gazed back at her over the top of her legal pad. "That may just be Mr. Charles' downfall." ****

Roses the color of antique lace decorated the tables of The Terrace Restaurant. Candles flickered, blending with the lights of the city spread below like a giant Christmas tree. Starched white table cloths sat beneath silver ice buckets that held bottles of champagne. Amber snorted softly. For all his other shortcomings Roger Charles had good taste.

Amber smoothed her black skirt and yanked on the lapels of her white blouse. A quick glance at the other waitresses told her she'd guessed correctly. In typical black and white and sensible shoes she was indistinguishable from the other help. Hefting the silver ice bucket, she checked Sandy's instructions one last time.

"Last table on the right by the railing," the note read in Sandy's large, looping scrawl. Amber's eyes scanned across the tables and she wished the place were lit by more than candlelight. "Overlooking the city," was written in brackets beneath. Squinting in the dim lighting, her green eyes zeroed in on their target. Sure enough, there was a man sitting at the last table with only the railing separating him from a three story drop into downtown.

She moved closer, holding the snapshot Sandy supplied into a pool of insufficient light. On the white border beneath the photo Sandy's decorative handwriting proclaimed, "Roger & Me". Her eyes flickered from the fuzzy photograph and back to the dark-haired man sitting alone at the table. His picture didn't do him justice, she thought, but that was him all right. She could tell a skunk from a mile away. Her eyes fastened on the empty place setting with its discarded napkin before him. Already back on the dating circuit. This Mr. Charles was quite the piece of work. Bolstering the bucket full of ice higher on her hip, Amber moved toward him.

"Say, can you get me some more coffee," a patron called out as she passed. It took a moment for the significance of the comment to sink in.

Wouldn't do to call attention to herself, Amber thought forcing a smile. "Be right with you," she said brightly.

"Could I have some ice water," another asked.

"Sure thing," she called back.

Two more tables and she'd be there. Five more minutes and this whole thing would be over. Then she could go home and enjoy her Friday night in peace. Sandy would be avenged, and Fair Game, Inc. would have completed another successful maneuver.

Roger Charles didn't see her coming. Leaning back in his chair, long, well-muscled legs stretched out before him, he stared out into the lights of the city. Amber drew closer, trying to erase the frown already forming on her face. She would have expected a man with a roving eye like Roger to be more interested in the women in the restaurant. She took another covert glance at the photo. Him all right. No doubt about it.

Dark curls spilled onto his forehead, shadowing even darker eyes. Full sensuous lips contrasted sharply with his strong jaw. Muscle rippled beneath his starched white shirt as he reached for his coffee. An expensively cut suit jacket hung on the back of his chair. If ever there was an image of male perfection, he was it. No wonder Sandy fell for him, Amber thought with a pang of regret, any warm blooded woman would.

For all his handsomeness he had an open honest face. Not self absorbed the way she'd expected. And Amber Shaw had studied a good many faces. After five years as a private investigator, she prided herself on being able to see into a person's soul with a single glance. She faltered, nearly turning away at the last moment, putting her finger at last on the source of that nagging doubt. Roger Charles simply didn't have a guilty soul.

Amber pushed the thought from her mind. Among his other talents, Roger Charles was a good actor. Sandy had said so. So good an actor he could even disguise the contents of his soul.

Wrenching herself from her reverie, she focused her attention on the task at hand. No sense in dragging it out. Best to get the deed done and the night's work over with. Amber launched herself across the remaining space of floor.

Her shadow fell between them, blocking out the candlelight. He looked up then, questioningly. His gaze drifted lazily from her scarlet curls, down over her trim figure to the shapely legs hidden to mid calf by her black skirt. She felt the path of his eyes as if he traced her outline with the candle's flame. Amber suppressed the wave of heat that followed in the wake of his perusal. His eyes fastened on the bucket of ice in her hand. He opened his mouth as if to say something. Amber offered him her most winning smile.

And dumped the contents of the ice bucket square in his lap.

For a split second it seemed as if time ground to a halt. Sounds of the busy restaurant retreated from her attention, leaving the two of them frozen in an absurd tableau. He stared up at her, his expression at once both wounded and bewildered. Amber shook off the persistent feeling of wrongness once again. The picture named him Roger Charles, Casanova.

The moment evaporated. Time sprang into motion. Heads swiveled in their direction. Patrons gawked openly. She watched his expression deteriorate from confusion into pure liquid fury.

"What the hell!"

He leapt backward, knocking over his chair. Ice cubes tumbled from his lap, tinkling like breaking glass onto the terra cotta floor. Dark eyes dragged her gaze upward. She found herself incapable of looking away as the force of his glare all but nailed her to the spot.

"Justice, Mr. Roger Charles," Amber's voice shattered the silence. No sense giving them a chance to deny it. Most of them would. "On behalf of Sandy Wylde."

"Sandy Wylde?" His deep melodic voice was also at odds with his persona. "What are you talk--" Hurt, bewilderment played across his face, then his dark eyebrows drew down into a menacing V. "You better have a good explanation," he growled threateningly low in his throat.

With a flick of her wrist she sent her business card sailing down into the puddle of ice water that had sloshed over the side of the table. He snatched it up out of the puddle, turning it to see better in the light.

"Fair Game," he muttered, "Don't get mad, get even." Understanding flashed across his face. "If this is some kind of prank, I'm not finding it funny."

"Neither did Sandy Wylde," Amber spat back, "when you cold!heartedly dumped her after leading her on for three months, Roger Charles."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. And I'm not Roger Charles."

"What?" Amber felt her mouth dropping stupidly open and shut it quickly. She yanked the photo from her pocket and stared at it dumbly. Spitting image. So what went wrong then? Hesitantly, no longer so sure of herself, she forced her eyes back to his face. But Roger, who apparently wasn't Roger, had his attention focused on something over her left shoulder.

She whirled about, anxious to see what he found so interesting, hoping desperately it wasn't a police officer, and found herself gaping again.

Toward them walked her unintended victim's mirror image.

He stopped a few feet away and gazed with curiosity at the wetness spreading across his dinner partner's pants and the slight red head who faced his twin in what could only be taken as a confrontational pose. A smirk worked its way across his lips, then he took one look at the other man's expression and swiftly smothered it.

Amber looked quickly from one to the other. The likeness was unmistakable. But in their demeanor, the twins were as different as day and night. Certain the newcomer was none other than the missing Roger Charles, she gave him the same once over, noting his self-assured, haughty expression. This man certainly didn't have a flawless soul. Slightly more heavy set than his twin, he wore his clothes with an in-your-face nonchalance. Beneath the jet black jacket he sported a pair of beat up denims and a tie that had all the subtlety of a modern art painting. Hair every bit as dark as his brother's tumbled over his shoulders in unruly waves before it was captured by a ponytail now rapidly coming undone. Eyes the exact shade as his twin's never ceased their wandering. They swept over her body. The leering glance he gave her made her shudder.

Amber's shoulders slumped and she drew in a shaky breath. Now she was going to have to revise her form to include a box to check in case the victim had an identical twin.

Sandy, she wailed inwardly. Why didn't you tell me?

Her victim stared angrily over her head at the approaching man. "Well, little brother," he growled, "you've got some explaining to do." He looked menacingly down at Amber. "And so do you, Miss Shaw."

"Little brother?" she blurted.

He held out his hand, as if making introductions at a formal business dinner. "Miss Shaw, allow me to introduce my brother, Roger Charles. Younger than me by half an hour."

Amber sucked in a shaky breath and squared her shoulders. She might just have made the worst mistake of her career, but she'd be damned it she'd let them know it. Forcing calmness into her voice, she managed to hold out her hand with some composure and look up at the man who towered over her by at least a foot. "You have me at a disadvantage Mr.--"

"Charles," he snapped, taking her hand. Despite the ice in his lap, his hand was warm, his touch practically electric. "Grayson Charles."

"Grayson," she repeated with a sick smile. "Roger's twin."

He nodded curtly. Roger, she noted, had turned away snickering rather obviously to himself, which did nothing to improve his brother's mood.

She looked from one to the other. With both of them in view the differences between them couldn't be more obvious. Roger drew attention like a sponge with his brash clothing and irreverent manner. In contrast Grayson reminded her of a still pond, teaming with life and secrets below the surface. Beyond the obvious anger in his dark eyes hurt hovered barely concealed. The quiet ones were always the most intriguing. Had they met under other circumstances, she'd most definitely have been interested.

Nice one, Amber, the thought roared through her mind. Not only do you dump ice on the wrong guy, you dumped it on the one who obviously doesn't deserve it. Well, the deed was done for better or worse. No sense contemplating the intriguing Mr. Grayson Charles further. Not after the way she introduced herself.

He stared at her awaiting her reply. She wracked her brain trying to remember what she'd been saying. "Roger's twin," she repeated, though the only thing they seemed to share were the same good looks. For lack of a better response, she said stupidly, "I see."

"I don't believe you do," Grayson said. "You see, Miss Shaw, I'm a practicing attorney. And you'll be hearing from me shortly regarding restitution for this prank. For the ruin of not only my pants but my busy evening. Need I outline for you, Miss Shaw--"

"Ms. Shaw," she insisted. Normally, she wouldn't bother, but since he was prattling on without even giving her a moment to explain, she felt an instinctive need to interrupt his tirade. "And I'd be happy to pay your dry cleaning bill, Mr. Charles."

He waved her generous offer aside. "As I was saying, I am needed elsewhere this evening, and you have just thrown a serious snag into my schedule. I'll be seeking compensation not only for my pants, but for my time at my usual billable rate." He snatched up her hand and shook it vigorously. "It was nice meeting you, Ms. Shaw."

Another jolt of heat raced through her, deepening the crimson blush spreading across her face. Grateful for the dim lighting, she tore her hand from his with all the disdain of a displeased monarch. Drawing herself up to her full five foot one and a half inch height, she whirled on her heel and strode off through the restaurant.

"Hey!" one of the patrons called after her. "What about that coffee?"

"Get it yourself," she snapped.

And disappeared through the restaurant doors.

****

Heedless of his brother's smothered laughter, Grayson watched her go. Just when he thought the night couldn't get worse, a red-haired spitfire of a woman dumps an entire bucket of ice in his lap. Back at the office a good four hours of work awaited him, and an early morning meeting wouldn't keep out of deference to his bad evening.

"I'm sorry."

Grayson forced himself to meet his brother's gaze. Roger looked anything but.

"I hope you are," he managed before Roger cut him off.

"You can't blame me because Sandy was so miffed she hired a private investigator to track me down and dump a bucket of ice in my lap."

"I can certainly blame you," Grayson forced his temper back down to a manageable level, "because it was my lap that got iced."

"How was I supposed to know she'd be real broken up about it?"

"You dumped her, Roger. How did you think she'd feel? How would you feel?"

"I don't know. It's never happened before. Be the first one out of the gate, that's my motto."

"Among others," Grayson muttered sourly.

"Ah, come on, Gray. It was funny."

"Perhaps from your perspective."

"Anyone else would think so."

"Anyone else?" his voice rose. "Fine, little brother. Next time you have another romantic mishap you call anyone else but me. I'm sick of cleaning up your mess, romantic or otherwise. I took time away from an important case tonight to hear the post-mortem on your latest tryst. I sat here all night while you unburdened your romantic woes. And this is what I get for my trouble. No wonder you haven't found Ms. Right yet. You don't stick around long enough to get to know more than her name."

Roger opened his mouth to defend himself.

"No, keep quiet for once," Grayson snarled. "I don't have time for it. I'm out of here."

He smothered the urge to haul Roger up by that repulsive tie and deck him one like he had when they were boys. But by the still snickering glances from the tables around him, he guessed he'd made quite enough of a spectacle of himself for one night. Instead he snatched his jacket from the back of the chair and left his twin to pay the bill.

Should have smacked him one, he thought bitterly, climbing into his car.

And the impulsive Ms. Shaw, he didn't want to think about what he'd like to do to her. Didn't want to think about her because she'd already driven a wedge into his thoughts.

Women like that were dangerous, he reflected. How could someone so slight cause so much damage? She reminded him of a Jack Russell terrier, all bark and no bite. Except that he was already bitten.

He slammed the door of his Mercedes and let himself into the darkened office building, slamming that door too, and locking it behind him.

So why was he so angry? The question nagged him. He pushed it aside, but it bounced tenaciously back at him. He was angry he decided because Roger saw fit to pick and choose from what he called the smorgasbord of women, while he worked alone in his wet wool pants.

Why had he all but bragged about being a lawyer? Grayson winced. He positively hated it when women found his profession more attractive than he. And why on earth had he threatened her with a lawsuit? If he'd played the situation differently, she might have been sweet and apologetic. He didn't want her to think of him as just a lawyer, he realized suddenly.

Women didn't even ask Roger what he did for a living. Most of them didn't know him that long, he reflected darkly. Even the reckless Amber Shaw had been gunning for Roger. Why Roger? Always Roger. What incomprehensible attraction did his twin have? Did women really fall for those tacky pick up lines, or were they just playing along? Still, a little voice inside reminded him, for all his romantic conquests, his brother went home alone each night, just as he did. He shouldn't be so angry.

But he was. Angry at life, at the unfairness of love, and especially that the most interesting woman he'd ever met had dumped a carafe of ice in his lap. Grayson thumped the top of his desk. File folders bounced, then settled.

He should be working, but instead memories of Amber Shaw dominated his thoughts. He pulled the sopping wet business card out of his pocket and stared at it.

Fair Game, indeed. Well, he could think of one way to get Amber Shaw off his mind once and for all. If she wanted to play games it would be on his turf.

In the courtroom.

Chapter TWO

Amber reached blindly for the bottle of aspirin she kept in her top drawer. The headache that had been building since Thursday night now echoed through her head like someone relentlessly pounding a drum. Four days, and she still hadn't had the nerve to call Sandy Wylde and explain how she'd not only botched Sandy's one chance at revenge, but also made the most embarrassing mistake of her entire career.

How had things gone so completely wrong? Why hadn't she thought to ask the right questions? Why hadn't she been more apologetic to Grayson? Couldn't she have swallowed her pride and offered to pay for Grayson's dinner?

No! The answer roared through her mind. Amber hadn't become the proprietor of a successful business by taking the blame for others' mistakes. She'd carved her own niche in the investigation field. Her only competition amounted to a shady PI with the unlikely name of James Heck. Heck, rumor had it, would play the odd gag to discredit ex-wives hoping to get generous settlements from their soon to be ex-husbands. No, she hadn't come this far to be discredited for a simple mistake. Still, if she examined her heart closely enough, Amber had to admit something about the devastatingly handsome Grayson Charles intrigued as well as irked her. Men ruled the world with their arrogance, she thought bitterly. The way she felt right now, she'd like to give both the Charles brothers an ice shower, from the head down.

Certainly, some of the blame lay with Sandy for withholding pertinent information, nevertheless Amber was the one with egg on her face. If word got around, who knew what kind of damage it might do to her sterling reputation. And get around it would surely, if Grayson Charles made good on his threat to take her to court. She pictured her name under the headline of News of the Bizarre and winced. Time to yank her head out of the sand and do some damage control.

She owed Sandy a partial refund. After all, the promised revenge had not been carried out. At least not as specified. And Sandy Wylde owed her one heck of an explanation. Amber yanked the phone out of its cradle and dialed Sandy's number.

****

"Oh, no!" Sandy's eyes widened in dismay. "He was having dinner with Grayson ... Oh no ... and Roger was in the men's ... and you dumped the ice in Grayson's lap ... Oh, Amber, I'm so sorry!" Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Amber sighed. Handing her another tissue, she made a mental note to put in an order for more Kleenex. "Not as sorry as I am, trust me."

"Oh, I should have told you," Sandy wailed. "I just didn't think it was important."

"Kind of a vital piece of information to leave out, don't you think?"

"I never thought he'd be having dinner with Grayson, not in a million years."

"He is his brother, his twin."

"I was sure he'd be there with Cindy."

"Apparently, he took a night off from his torrid love affair," Amber said dryly, feeling the last of her patience evaporate. Sandy's lower lip trembled. Feeling like a total heel, Amber pushed the box of tissue toward her.

Just then a shadow darkened the glass doors of Fair Game, Inc. Amber rose to her feet. "Hang on a second. I'll be right back."

Quite a handsome shadow, she decided staring through the glass. Hope he's not here to make an appointment, she'd had her fill of handsome men and the troubles they caused.

He smiled, as she opened the door, a cold frozen smile. "Ms. Amber Shaw?"

"I'm Amber Shaw," she said, blocking any further progress. Extra height gave him the advantage and he stared boldly into the room over her head. "Can I help you?" The tone of her voice suggested she offered to do anything but.

"You certainly can." The insincere smile widened.

"Look, I'm with a client right now, but we could make an appointment--"

He reached into the pocket of his dark suit. "This will only take a moment, Ms. Shaw." Producing a buff-colored envelope, he pressed it into her hand.

With a sinking heart, Amber looked down at the envelope in her hand.

"Do have a good day, Ms. Shaw." The leering stranger was already halfway down the hall.

"Damn," Amber muttered softly under her breath. With the edge of one manicured nail, she tore open the top of the envelope. A glance inside confirmed her suspicions. The one line she could read inside summoned her to appear in night court on September fourth.

With a muffled curse, she stuffed the envelope into the pocket of her blazer. She shut the door firmly and leaned against it for emphasis. Forcing a smile onto her face, she turned back to Sandy.

"He was a looker," Sandy said with an appreciative whistle.

Thought you were mourning good old Roger. Amber forced her thoughts to be more charitable. Maybe a good looking messenger of bad news was less likely to get shot.

"Something wrong?" Her client looked up at her with concern.

"No, ah no, everything's fine. Where were we?"

"We were trying to decide what to do about Roger."

"Right." Amber sank back into her leather chair. Nonchalantly, she took the envelope from her pocket, tossed it into her right hand drawer and casually locked it. "As I was about to say, he's on to us now. Our cover is blown, and with it is the element of surprise. I'm sure Roger will be expecting a counter strike. At this point, I don't think we'll get within a mile of him."

"What are you saying? That we should call it off, and let Roger get away with--" Her mouth worked. No sound came out. "Dumping me?" she asked finally in a tiny voice. Tears glistened, threatening to tumble down her cheeks at any moment.

"At this point, I don't think there's anything else we can do." No sense making a bad situation worse. All I need is another lawsuit. The words came out more sharply than she intended. Guilt stopped her. Grayson's lawsuit wasn't entirely Sandy's fault. Maybe if she'd been more apologetic. Maybe ... who knew? "Look," she said gently. "I think you've made your point, anyway. Roger knows now that you're hurt and angry. What happens now is up to the two of you. She paused, then added reluctantly. "And I won't charge you for my time."

Sandy nodded, dabbing at a tear in the corner of her eye. "Thank you. And you're probably right. It's best not to do anything more, considering."

"Fine, then." Amber held out her hand. "Nice meeting you, Sandy."

But Sandy was staring down at her long, manicured fingernails. "I can't believe it, Roger wins again."

She rose, the epitome of grace, from the chrome and leather chair. With one last sniffle, she picked up the entire box of tissues and disappeared through the glass doors.

"But--" Amber rested her head in her hands. Better add another bottle of aspirin to that order. With a groan, she unlocked her desk drawer and looked down at the summons on its buff colored paper. Hers was an honest mistake. No way would she let Grayson Charles destroy the reputation she'd worked so hard to build.

****

Amber stormed through the courthouse doors. Briefcase in hand, she barreled down the marble corridor, heedless of anything or anyone in her path. Heads turned as she rushed past. Black robed judges stepped hastily out of her way.

The door to Courtroom 9 loomed before her more suddenly than she expected. Taking a deep breath, Amber charged through the doors. Mahogany doors swung open, hitting the back wall with a resounding boom. Inside it was hushed, as if someone had sucked all the sound out of the room. Her pumps clicked a staccato beat along the floor, disproportionately loud in the silence. She suppressed the urge to tiptoe as she strode purposely toward the front of the courtroom. No sense in letting him think she was meek in any way. If his opinion ran along those lines, Mr. Grayson Charles, attorney at law, was in for a big surprise.

"Charles versus Shaw," the judge called out. She watched as Grayson rose from his seat, looking entirely formidable in his charcoal colored suit.

I'll teach him about formidable, she thought and strode up beside him. He towered over her by more than a head. Amber offered him a look that practically smoked with hostility, daring him to look down at her. Together they approached the bench.

In a monotone, the judge read through the details of the case, pausing now and then upon a keyword. "... revenge ... bucket of ice ..." He raised his eyes over his half-glasses. His gaze swept over Amber, who glared back defiantly and fastened upon Grayson. "You're suing her for what?"

"Your Honor--" Grayson launched into a speech to rival Perry Mason, not even pausing long enough for breath for her to slip in a word in her defense.

She stared up at him, admitting reluctantly that he was intimidating in his expensive suit, his dark eyes blazing with anger, his face intent on his cause. It occurred to Amber that Grayson Charles was the kind of man you wanted as an ally not an opponent. If he'd been defending her she'd have been impressed with his performance. But instead, he was suing her, over an honest mistake that had done no one any harm. Intimidated or not, she vowed he wasn't going to win.

"As I was saying, Your Honor," Grayson shot a withering glance in Amber's direction. "Due to Miss Shaw's negligence, her failure to gather all the pertinent facts, I not only had my clothing ruined, but I lost several working hours from an urgent case."

Anger boiled up inside her, boiled over. Grayson Charles could say anything he wanted about her personally, but she would not allow him to sully her reputation as a private investigator.

She drew in a breath that burned with fury. If Mr. Charles thought he could brush off Amber Shaw so easily, he was sorely mistaken.

"Oh come now, Counselor!" Her voice carried further than she intended in the quiet chamber. "It was only water, ice-cold water at that. It couldn't have shrunk your fine wool pants. Unless of course, it shrunk something else."

A wave of snickers swept through the gallery behind her. Amber felt a deep flush work its way up her neck and over her cheeks, until she was certain even her scalp blushed in embarrassment. Had she really said that? She raised her eyes just in time to see the judge smother a smile. She didn't dare look at Grayson.

"Your Honor, I object." By the strain in his voice she could tell he'd like to do more than that.

Somehow she'd won the judge over with her impulsive comment.

"Object all you want, Counselor. This isn't the supreme court. We aren't trying a murder case here. I've got armed robbery, hit and run, embezzlement.o He brandished a handful of files. "And you want to tie up my courtroom because a woman dumped a pitcher of ice in your lap by accident?"

"With all due respect, Your Honor, Ms. Shaw has made a business of such behavior."

"While it might be questionable business practice, technically it's not illegal, Mr. Charles. You should know that."

Grayson's complexion darkened with anger. Standing only inches away Amber could feel the heat radiating from him. He smelled of soap and aftershave. Nice aftershave, barely noticeable, not the overpowering kind used car salesmen wore. She yanked her thoughts back to the problem at hand. What was it about Grayson Charles that could infuriate her yet entice her at the worst of times?

"What about the damage to my clothing? The time lost from my caseload?"

The judge sighed in exasperation. Removing his glasses, he wiped a hand across his eyes and glared down at them.

"Since you insist, Mr. Charles, I hereby order Ms Shaw to pay the dry cleaning bill for one pair of wool suit pants. And...."

Amber swallowed hard. Before her eyes, the judge's patience wore dangerously thin. And Grayson Charles seemed determined to provoke him.

"Seeing as Ms Shaw's prank caused irreparable damage to your schedule, I hereby order her to one month of after hours assistance at Barlow & Charles."

"Your Honor--" Their voices mingled as one. The judge pounded his gavel for silence.

"I'm a private investigator," Amber said hotly, "not a private secretary."

Grayson looked down at her with disdain. "I can't imagine what help she could possibly be to me?"

"She's a private investigator, Mr. Charles. I'm sure she can help you with your research."

The gavel slammed down once again, dismissing them. Amber snatched up her briefcase and stormed up the steps, followed closely by Grayson. She hauled the door open, letting it go without looking to see if he'd cleared the threshold. Behind her she heard a muffled curse. A strong hand seized her arm. She whirled to face him.

"I hope you're satisfied."

Anger got the better of her. "Me, satisfied? We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't kept on about your stupid pants."

"Me?"

"Yes, you! You had to go and make him mad. Now look what's happened."

"Oh right, blame me. Well let me tell you, Ms. Shaw, none of this would have happened if you'd done your research in the first place."

Amber's fingers curled into fists at her side. She was certain her face was flushed scarlet by now. One of the drawbacks of being a redhead, she thought angrily. Grayson Charles made a big mistake messing with a redhead's temper.

"If you don't like my research skills, Mr. Charles,o she growled low in her throat, "then I guess you won't be needing my help at your firm." She yanked her arm from his grip and strode off down the corridor.

Behind her, there was silence.

"Wait a minute."

He hurried to catch up to her. She kept on walking.

"I didn't say that."

"Oh really?" She turned slowly, shooting him a glare that said 'if looks could kill, you'd already be dead'. "So the research skills you don't consider good enough, you're willing to take for free?"

"You owe me!"

"I offered to pay your dry cleaning bill."

"You owe me for my time!"

"Your time! What about mine? Do you think you're the only one trying to make a living here, Mr. Charles? Did it ever occur to you that I might have cases of my own that require my undivided attention just now?"

He looked back at her dumbfounded. "I suppose you do."

"Fine. Since you got us both into this mess, and I'm not about to defy a court order, just tell me when you'd like me to report to your law firm. And then let me get on with my evening. Unlike some people," her eyes flashed the length of his body, "I don't have the luxury of wasting time. I still have work to do tonight."

**** I still have work to do tonight. Her pompous words echoed like an endless tape loop in Grayson's mind. As if he didn't.

Grayson coasted to the curb, parking just behind the fire engine red sports car. The sight of Roger's car sent a fresh wave of anger surging inside him. In the lobby of the office building, he caught a glimpse of black leather and blue denim.

Roger levered himself away from the wall as Grayson strode through the main doors. "Brought you an espresso."

Grayson accepted the paper cup grudgingly. "I'm going to need it."

"So how'd the court case go?"

He offered his brother a boiling glare in reply. Fumbling for his keys, he unlocked the office and held it open for Roger to enter, even though it was clear he'd much prefer if Roger disappeared from the face of the earth.

"Don't tell me the great Grayson Charles actually lost a case!"

"Don't push it, Roger. I'm not the best of company tonight."

Roger's face clouded. "You didn't actually lose, Gray, did you?"

"Of course not."

"So, how much did you set her back?"

"I didn't set her back, as you so kindly put it."

"You didn't? So what did you get?"

"A month of her assistance and compensation for my dry cleaning bill."

Roger choked on his coffee.

"What so funny?"

"You mean she's coming here? To work?"

"That's what I mean. What could I say? No, I don't need the help. I do need the help. What with Nicole running off to Mexico to get married...." He drawled out the word married, making it sound like a heinous crime. "And whatever's going on with John that he's got to take a holiday in the middle of our busiest month ever, I'm completely swamped." Grayson looked up from the papers he was unloading from his portfolio. "Was there something in particular you wanted, Roger?"

His brother's laughter rippled through the quiet room. "Don't you see, it's perfect."

"What is?"

"You and Amber Shaw."

"Nothing is perfect about me and Amber Shaw in close quarters."

"I beg to differ."

"You deal with her then."

Roger smiled, the epitome of smugness. "Perhaps, I will."

Grayson paused, amazed at the pang of jealousy that tore through him. The unfamiliar emotion unsettled him. He hadn't felt that way since junior high school when both Roger and he had a crush on a certain blonde fourteen year old named Debbie. How had Amber Shaw managed to dig up feelings so long buried? She was an attractive woman with her flame red hair, porcelain skin and gray eyes. He imagined most men would think so. Not the kind of woman you'd be easily bored with, he thought with the ghost of a smile. He wouldn't want to square off against her in a debate. He'd never met a woman who could build a business from the ground up single-handedly, and yet blush so endearingly. Why hadn't he just laughed off her mistake and asked her out? If that's what Roger was thinking of doing, he had news for him. That thought shook him from his reverie. Setting the file folder down on his desk, he looked up at his brother, appraisingly.

"She'd mop the floor with you, little brother."

****

Amber sat alone in the darkened office. Light from the distant street leaked through the vertical blinds, gilding the chrome furniture. From memory, Amber made her way across the office to the alcove at the back that contained her coffee maker. She poured herself a cup of coffee hours cold. Adding a splash of powdered creamer, she stuck the mug in the microwave to heat. It beeped, the only sound in the building besides the rush of an occasional car on the street. She jumped, startling herself from her dark muse.

Retrieving the cup, she collapsed back into her leather chair. The coffee was foul enough to jolt her into wakefulness. She flipped on her desk lamp. It cast a puddle of golden light across her desk. With a deep yawn, she reached for the active file in her bottom drawer.

Words in her own handwriting danced across the pages, refusing to make sense. The scent of Grayson's cologne clung like a ghost to her clothing. Her arm was still warm where he had touched her. She could almost feel the heat of him radiating over her as if he stood behind her still.

Spooked by the intensity of her thoughts, Amber spun around in her chair. But the office behind her was as dark and as empty as she remembered.

Fatigue worked its way into her muscles. Exhausted from their encounter in the courthouse, there was nothing she wanted to do more than go home and crawl into bed. But work that didn't get done today only piled up tomorrow. Her time was at a premium now that she'd been ordered to spend evenings helping Grayson.

Stupidly, she thought she'd won the judge's support. They were all the same, she decided, judges, lawyers, men. How could he possibly have sided with Grayson Charles? Couldn't he see it was an honest mistake?

The only one she'd ever made.

Chapter THREE

Amber peered through the binoculars at the nondescript brown building she'd been parked in front of for the past six hours. Resting the binoculars against the dash, she rubbed a hand across weary eyes.

"Come on, come on," she chanted to the impassive building face as if the force of her will could penetrate the brick and the mind of the man who lived in apartment four. She drummed her fingernails against the steering wheel. "You feel the need for take-out Chinese, or you're out of soap and you've got a hot date tonight." But the occupant of apartment four stayed firmly ensconced. With a frown she glanced at her watch. "And I've got a date with Grayson Charles in half an hour."

Leaning back against the headrest she vividly pictured the profits flying out the window. The long time girlfriend of the man in number four suspected she was not the only one in his life. Willing to pay for Amber's deluxe package, complete with videotape of the event, she nonetheless insisted on proof before sealing the deal.

Were it not for Grayson Charles, Amber would be content to sit and watch until either the suspected cheater either left his apartment or the suspected new girlfriend arrived. A loaded 35mm camera with a telephoto lens lay on the seat beside her. But in six hours the most interesting visitors to the tiny building had been a squirrel and a couple of motley looking pigeons.

Amber thumped her fist against the steering wheel. She'd bet the girlfriend would show up the moment she left for Grayson's office. Never failed. If she went out for coffee or to use the ladies on a stake-out it proved to be the five minutes she should have stayed put.

Minutes passed with agonizing slowness. Investigative business of any sort just didn't keep regular hours. Couldn't the judge have understood that? Unlike Grayson Charles, she didn't go home at six in the evening. Often that was merely the beginning of her day.

If she didn't snap off a few shots of the occupant in number four, she'd be sitting here again tomorrow. While all the work that should have been done back at the office during the day piled up to be done another.

Another half an hour. Grayson Charles could wait. She'd put in the hours as per the court order, and according to her own schedule.

A car pulled up in front of the squat building. Rolling down the window, Amber rested the camera against the glass and put her eye to the viewfinder. But the little sports car discharged only a middle aged woman and a yappy poodle. Amber tossed the camera back on the seat beside her. Another glance at her watch showed thirty-five minutes passed. Now she was not only behind in her own work, but in the work she'd been ordered to do for Grayson as well.

With a deep sigh, she put the car in gear and drove away.

****

The glass doors to Grayson's office building flew open as Amber charged through. Thinking of the work piling up on her own desk, she cursed Grayson Charles fluently and thoroughly.

It wasn't just the research, the execution of the prescribed revenge. Once a case was completed, there was still the filing, the billing and a myriad other tasks to occupy her time. Someone had to dust the computer. Someone had to wash the coffee cups, order the supplies and vacuum the carpet. As owner, operator and sole proprietor of Fair Game, that someone was Amber. Caution stopped her from hiring an assistant. Her last expansion nearly sent her to bankruptcy court, she reflected darkly. Renting a bigger office and hiring an assistant had tipped the scales on Shaw Investigations. That coupled with a slow year, had plunged the company permanently into the red. Never again, Amber promised herself. For the time being she'd indulge herself with upscale tissues and gourmet coffee. She wasn't about to gamble with her livelihood again.

Grayson Charles certainly didn't wash his own coffee cups, she thought with a glance around the lobby. Marble floors led the way to the elevator. A brass-framed directory told her the offices of Barlow & Charles were on the third floor. Must be nice, she thought bitterly and stopped.

It wasn't jealousy she felt. No, not Amber Shaw. She was proud of the years of hard work that created her success. Better to start with nothing and build up slowly. That way no one could take away what was rightfully yours. The mantra had served her well so far. Fair Game was all hers, down to the last paper clip and bottle of white-out. And if Grayson Charles thought differently, he was in for a surprise.

She stabbed at the elevator button. Chrome doors slid open obligingly. She suppressed the urge to smear her fingerprints on the door as she entered. Anything to tarnish the untouchable interior.

On her way up she pictured the pristine interior of Barlow & Charles. It would be oh-so-tastefully decorated, she suspected. Muted colors, probably beige and that celery green that seemed to have taken over decoratorsAE better judgment that year. Furniture would all be polished to a dull gleam, and it would, of course, all be wood. Real wood. A young, blonde secretary would just be getting up from her desk. She'd put on an extra pot of coffee for Grayson before she left.

And because of that one, albeit regrettable, mistake Amber could sit right down in her vacated spot and spend the evening working for Barlow & Charles instead of Fair Game.

As if Mr. Grayson (never a hair out of place, expensive suit, drives a Mercedes) Charles actually needed her help. He didn't give the impression he'd ever needed anything from anybody.

Striding down the hallway with its plush carpet, she pictured his early life. Born into a well-bred, well-off family, that was a given. From there he'd excelled in school, of course he had. By the time he was in his late teens, his dad, who was probably a judge, was already giving him career advice over brandy at the old boy's club.

Amber gripped the brass door handle as if she wanted to throttle it. She'd bet this month's revenue Grayson Charles never had to work his way through college.

The door swung open. Instead of being ushered in by the departing blonde secretary, chaos greeted her.

At least three phones rang in a discordant chorus. File folders, stuffed to the point of bursting covered every surface. A flurry of green message slips caught the breeze as she entered and drifted to the floor.

"Hello?"

Silence answered her.

From down the hall she could hear the low murmur of a man talking. Presumably on the phone. Amber followed the sound.

The offices of Barlow & Charles had been nice at one time, she thought as she made her way through the inner sanctum. Tasteful paintings decorated the walls. The furniture, what she could see of it beneath the debris was upholstered in muted colors. At the end of the hallway lay a corner office. She poked her head inside.

It took a moment to locate the occupant. The entire office looked as if someone had shaken the contents like one of those snow-globes you brought back from Niagara Falls, and left them to lie as they fell.

A gasp escaped her lips.

"Hang on one seca." The speaker straightened from bending over the file drawer of his desk. It took a moment for Amber to recognize him in his shirt sleeves and with his tousled dark hair. Grayson pressed the hold button and put the phone back on its cradle. The red light pulsed between them.

"If you just have a seat out front, Ms. Shaw, I'll be right with you." Weariness worked its way into his tone.

"Seat?" Amber asked incredulously. "There isn't one square inch in this entire office that isn't covered with paper."

His eyebrows drew threateningly downward. "Then if you wouldn't mind standing out front for one moment, I promise I'll be right with you."

Amber wrapped her will around her temper and strode back down the hall. Taking a stack of files from one of the chairs in the waiting room, she dumped it on top of another and sat down. Minutes dragged by. Should have brought my laptop. If Mr. Charles wanted to waste her court-appointed time that was fine with her. She could put it to good use.

As seven minutes became ten, she found herself pacing the narrow entrance way. Her eyes came to rest on a brass plaque on one of the doors. John Barlow. Amber tried the handle. It opened easily.

Well, J. B. was certainly nothing like his partner, she deduced. In the immaculate interior not even a speck of dust was out of place. She stepped further into the room. The mahogany desk wasn't locked, either. Amber sat in the leather chair and gently pulled open the top drawer.

"Lose something?" The sound of his voice brought her head up sharply. Grayson leaned against the door frame. Gazing at him, Amber had to suppress a gasp. The disheveled stranger bore only a superficial resemblance to the Grayson Charles she'd met last night. Dark curls tumbled across his forehead, bearing evidence of the many times he must have run his hands through his hair during the day. A white shirt that still showed vague signs of once being starched and pressed now hung in a myriad wrinkles. Sleeves had been shoved, not rolled, above his elbows and his tie hung loosely and crookedly about his neck. If she didn't know better, Amber might suspect he had yet another identical twin lying around somewhere. The thought made her shudder. The Charles twins were enough to deal with as it was.

Amber shut the drawer quickly and straightened. "You told me to find a seat." She glanced around the office. "So I found one."

Grayson's expression said he knew exactly what she'd been doing. He glanced at his watch, then pointedly back at her. "You're late."

"I got tied up on surveillance." Amber bit back the urge to apologize. He was the one who should be sorry. Grayson Charles would be the end of Fair Game, yet.

His frown told her just what he thought of her activity. She might just as well have said something obscene.

"You and your partner seem to have differing ideas about neatness," she said finally, to distract him for her lateness and her business activities.

To her surprise, he snorted softly. "Barlow's as uptight as they get."

She choked back the peal of laughter. A case of calling the kettle black, don't you think? But she kept her lips resolutely shut.

"They don't call him Jumpy John for nothing," Grayson supplied. Then as if he'd just spilled a dark personal secret, he firmly shut his mouth.

"So why'd you want him for a partner then?"

"He was my father's partner." His expression darkened. "It was obvious Roger was never going to be a lawyer, so that left me to join the firm."

There was pain behind that dark gaze, as he stood before her disheveled and wounded-looking. Amber found herself wanting to circle him with her arms, rest her head against his chest, and tell him it would be all right. She shook herself from her thoughts. No way was she going to feel sorry for Grayson Charles, who for all the opportunities he'd been granted obviously couldn't organize so much as his date book. But she couldn't stop herself from asking softly, "Your father died young, I take it?" Research, her conscience insisted. Just research.

"Heart attack."

Grayson's words were short, clipped. She knew when a subject didn't want to talk. She'd get no more from him even if she tied him to a chair and interrogated him under a bare light bulb.

But then he surprised her by saying, "Worked himself to death."

"I'm sorry." The words slipped traitorously from her lips. The only thing she was sorry about was having to work for Barlow & Charles, she told herself sternly.

Grayson drew in a deep breath. "Well, Ms. Shaw, as you can see there is plenty of work to be done. I'm afraid I have to make several more calls this evening, so please," he cast a grim glance over his shoulder at the decimated reception area, "jump right in."

Amber rose from behind Barlow's desk. "You don't have a secretary?"

"We did, until quite recently."

"How recently?"

"About a month ago?"

Her eyebrows rose, in spite of her vow to remain detached. "You made this mess in just a month?"

Grayson sighed. "Suffice to say NicoleAEs departure was ill-timed."

"What happened to her?"

"She ran off to Mexico."

"Ran off?"

"She got married, Ms. Shaw. Her new husband was offered a job in Mexico."

"Isn't that always the way?" Amber said hotly. "A man gets offered a job and he thinks nothing of uprooting his wife and dragging her off to another country. Would he do the same for her? I doubt it."

He opened his mouth to object, but she charged resolutely ahead.

"And once she's given up everything for him, what does he do?"

Grayson threw up his hands in defeat. "I don't know. Please enlighten me, Ms. Shaw."

"He leaves her for his blonde secretary. Just like your brother Roger." The words leapt from her lips. She hadn't meant to say them, hadn't meant to think about Sandy, Roger, nor a certain male named Eric and his blonde secretary, Daphne. But it was too late to call back the traitorous words, so she settled for leveling him a searing stare and daring him to take offense at it.

The corners of his mouth twitched with amusement, but he caught himself. "Is that so?"

She nodded curtly, hands on her hips.

"Allow me to point out that you're operating on a couple of incorrect assumptions here."

"I--"

"In the first place, you're assuming the advantages in relocating were all skewed toward NicoleAEs husband. That wasn't the case. Nicole was also able to secure herself a substantial promotion. It was a great opportunity for both of them. A great opportunity for everyone except Barlow and me," he looked around at the stacks of files everywhere, "who'd come to depend on her. But what could I say? I didn't want to stand in the way of her chance to start an exciting new life."

"Oh right. Away from her family and friends."

"Perhaps she considered her husband both family and friend. It isn't impossible you know, Ms. Shaw."

"It is from my experience," she shot back at him. Now where had that come from? Amber ground her teeth against her tongue in a stern reminder not to spill any more of her guts to this virtual stranger. The stranger, she reminded herself, who'd sued her over a simple mistake.

Grayson raised his eyebrows at her caustic remark. "And secondly, Cindy isn't Roger's secretary, she's an executive. They met at his health club."

"Oh, that makes it so much better."

To her amazement, he looked embarrassed at the mention of his twin. "Roger is hopeless. I make no excuses for him."

"Did he say why he ditched Sandy after leading her on like that?" she asked more gently.

"He said the relationship wasn't working for him." Grayson looked wearily down at her. "Does that satisfy your boundless curiosity, Ms. Shaw?"

Curiosity killed the cat. Her grandmother's words echoed in her mind. The burning desire to ask questions no one wanted to answer was a trait that dated back to her early childhood. Caught in the act again, Amber smiled, a peace offering.

"You might as well call me Amber since we're going to be stuck here together for a month."

"Grayson," he said. The trace of a smile broke across his face.

Like the sun dawning, Amber thought, then mentally shook herself. A woman could get lost in that smile. She wondered how many had.

"Well then, Amber. Are you satisfied?"

"One more question."

The smile faded, like clouds gathering. "One and only one."

"Where's your partner?"

Grayson studied her long and hard. "He's on an extended holiday."

"Why?"

"I said one question, Amber. Next time make sure you use it wisely."

"Doesn't seem like such a great time to take a holiday to me."

He pursed his lips, all but saying he knew exactly what she was up to. "No, it wasn't."

"So why'd you let him go?"

"That's a question," he reminded her softly.

"You're right," she said breaking into a grin in spite of herself. "You can't blame me for trying. Asking questions is my profession after all."

"No, I suppose I can't," he said, sounding even more tired than before. He ushered her from Barlow's office. "Let me show you where everything is."

****

He leaves her. Grayson couldn't shake her poignant words from his mind. Spoken with just enough hidden pain to make him wonder if in fact she wasn't speaking from her own experience instead of discussing a case study. Had she made sacrifices for a lover who rewarded her by leaving? Was that what set the hot-tempered Ms. Shaw on the course of a new career? Should he ask her?

Grayson smiled in spite of himself. No, that likely wouldn't be a good idea. Ms. Shaw might be adept at asking questions, but he could be certain she was equally adept at evading those asked of her. If he wanted to repair the damage his ill-conceived lawsuit had done, now was not the time to press for personal information. Not yet. Not with her bristling at his every word.

He'd take his time, ask the right questions. He knew from experience that given the right prompting the most reticent of defendants could be enticed to spill the beans.

Grayson glanced through the crack of his partially-closed door at her slight form bent over NicoleAEs main filing cabinet. He couldn't help but admire her. Whether her diligence came from training or deep personal pain, she'd built a business around it, created something profitable where nothing had been before. Created something that allowed others to vent that pain and get on with their lives.

Had she taken revenge on him? He wondered. What had she done? And how had she done it? A few gruesome possibilities flitted through his imagination. He could bet it wasn't ice. No, that wasn't her personal style. Something much more lingering, something the poor fool who'd wronged her would never forget.

And then it hit him. She hadn't exacted her revenge. Hadn't been able to at the time, or chose not to. And all of a sudden he understood something about Amber Shaw that he'd bet she'd never share with another living soul. Pain kept her going. Pain stoked the fires of her success. Pain kept her working on other people's problems instead of facing up to her own. Grayson leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. Ms Amber Shaw was definitely the most interesting case in years to walk through the doors of Barlow & Charles. Perhaps things were working out just fine after all.

But inside a little voice snickered, reminding him instantly of Roger. Roger, who was so blind to his own faults, yet remarkably attuned to other peoples.

And what fans your fire, Grayson?

He shut his brother's voice firmly out of his mind. Getting up, he softly closed the door. Amber Shaw was here to help him get his work done, he reminded himself, not to keep him from it. Grayson reached for the phone.

****

Her pity for the loss of his secretary vanished as soon as she glanced at piles of files awaiting her undivided attention. He was smooth, she grudgingly admitted. Mr. Grayson Charles missed his calling. He should have been an actor. She'd bet even the tousled hair and wrinkled shirt had been part of the disguise. He could certainly dress himself for court. She yanked open the file cabinet. Like dominoes set in motion, files tumbled out, landing in a heap of scattered paper at her feet.

Oh he was good all right, she thought, gathering up the files into yet another pile. He used just the right amount of humor, the faintest touch of a smile, the see, I'm a good guy, you can trust me routine. She knew how it went. She used it herself. She just hadn't realized she was vulnerable to it.

Stated his case, he had. The defense rested. Lulled into a false sense of security, she told him more than she ever intended. Not intentionally. Of course not. Just as he planned.

Never again. Amber kicked off her shoes and sat down on the carpeted floor to start organizing the files into some kind of order.

Vulnerability lurked behind every need. So what need kept her vulnerable to Grayson's charms?

Later, she promised herself, out of range of Grayson's influence, she'd think about that one.

It was obvious there had once been an order to the multitude of files littering the reception area. Each color-coded folder had its own laser printed label. But in the weeks since NicoleAEs departure, titles had been crossed out in ball-point pen and others scrawled in a barely legible hand. Grayson's she deduced. The obsessively neat John Barlow, if his office was any indication, would never have used tools as crude as ball-point. But the color coding that had likely made perfect sense to the departed Nicole made no sense at all to Amber. She found matching folders in the main cabinet neatly arranged in alphabetical order to match the files coded yellow and blue. But there were no corresponding hanging folders for those with red and black labels. She wandered down the hall to Grayson's office, but inside she could hear the low murmur of a telephone conversation in progress. Deciding not to disturb him, she strolled back down the hall toward Barlow's office.

The door shut quietly behind her. Amber hit the light switch and looked around the immaculate office. His oak filing cabinet was locked. Walking softly over to the matching desk, she tried the top drawer again. A quick search yielded a ring of tiny keys. Amber chuckled to herself. What possessed people to lock things up and then leave the keys within easy reach she'd never know.

Metal connected with metal. The lock popped open. Sure enough, the cabinet contained several rows of files with red and black labels. Amber looked down at the folders in her hand. Red and black. Those colors should mean something to her.

Opening the door quietly, she peered down the hall. Light shone in a thin band beneath Grayson's closed door. Straining to hear, she could make out deep timbre of his voice. She closed the door again and crept back to Barlow's filing cabinet.

In the red or in the black. Financial statements? She flipped open one of the files. Inside was a handful of spreadsheet pages. Last years books, if she could trust the date at the top. Amber dug deeper in the filing cabinet, replacing the files from the outer office and flipping through the ones with more recent dates.

The most recent figures were from June. Four months ago. She tilted the file into the light, squinting to make out the tiny figures at the top of the page and stopped. Assuming the figures were correct, Grayson's law firm was already seriously in the red.

Amber's fingers hovered above the next file. She cast a glance over her shoulder, checking for signs of her discovery, but the hallway remained silent. Her heart pounding, she opened the file.

Inside were papers offering the sale of Barlow & Charles to another firm.

Chapter FOUR

It turned out that the elusive occupant of apartment four worked nights, which explained why heAEd been so difficult to locate during the day. It also explained how heAEd been able to dupe his girlfriend into believing he was working.

Shift work, business trips, overtime. After five years, Amber knew just about every cheating scheme in existence. She shifted against the plastic upholstery of her Honda, peeling the skirt that had become stuck to it in the heat of the Indian summer day. That beautiful day was rapidly becoming evening, while all the work she should have done accumulated with yesterdayAEs. What else could she do? Grayson Charles had manipulated the court into granting him her services in the evenings.

Behind the white Venetian blinds in apartment four, something moved. Amber let go her frustration in a deep sigh. A lamp went on in the bedroom, barely discernible in the late afternoon light. She swung the camera into position.

oCome on, come on,o she whispered as if her words could hypnotize the mysterious occupant in number four. oYou have a date tonight. I can just feel it.o

She was already half an hour late for GraysonAEs office, but sheAEd been following Mr. Apartment 4 for three days now. Since her evenings were slated for Barlow & Charles, this might be her last chance. Whatever happened, she couldnAEt let her business slide in any way during the month sheAEd been ordered to help Grayson.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon. Afternoon faded into evening. Mr. Apartment 4 stayed stubbornly behind the closed blinds.

oYouAEre late,o Amber chanted softly. oNo time for a shower. She wonAEt mind a little sweat.o

In apartment four, the light went off.

oCome outside and play,o she whispered, then frowned and added, oso I can get this over with and go to work for the rest of the evening.o

Movement. In the lobby. Amber eased the window down and put her eye to the viewfinder. SheAEd loaded the camera with high speed film, but if she was forced to wait any longer, even that wouldnAEt be good enough. Her only alternative would be to use flash and that could prove to be ... difficult.

The front door swung open. A thin blond man jaunted down the steps. oLooks like a surfer,o Amber muttered. Using the telephoto lens, she snapped off a couple of shots just to be safe. According to her clientAEs profile, he was an information services technician.

oBet the services youAEre currently selling have little to do with computers.o Amber laughed at her own dark humor. oWeAEll just see about that, Apartment 4. Information is my specialty, too.o

She ducked as he passed her car, heading for his own. Waiting until there were a couple of cars safely between them, Amber eased the Honda into traffic. A glance at her watch sent her heart sinking. Almost an hour late. Grayson Charles would just have to wait. SheAEd make it up to him later. If she had to.

oThereAEd better be a woman at the end of this goose chase,o she told the red mustang two cars ahead. oIf youAEre going grocery shopping, IAEm going to be really mad.o

And so would Grayson Charles.

No wonder heAEd been so upset at the loss of his time. If the firm was in fact riding a fine edge between solvency and bankruptcy, Grayson wouldnAEt have had the resources to hire extra help. Dark eyes haunted her, last night and all day. He hadnAEt looked annoyed to see her. He looked ... relieved.

Amber thrust him from her mind. Since their ill-fated meeting several weeks ago, Grayson Charles had been occupying far too much of her thoughts.

Apartment 4 was pulling into the parking lot of an industrial complex. Amber followed a discreet distance behind. He parked in front of a rambling building. A green sign above was the only thing distinguishing it from the other squat buildings in the industrial complex. Gardner Information Services. Amber eased her car closer, keeping one hand on the camera.

oGoing to work early tonight, arenAEt we, Apartment 4?o Amber said as he disappeared inside.

Taking the camera, she closed her car door quietly, and crept toward the rear of the building. Most of the workers had left for the day, emptying a multitude of dark offices. Down toward the end of the building, lights were still on in a couple of offices. Bending low out of sight of the windows, Amber ran along the side of the building.

The first illuminated room turned out to be the lunchroom. A couple of industrial tables, a battered fridge and a microwave made up its furnishings. Amber slid around the corner. Peering up over the windowsill, she peeked through the vertical blinds.

oBingo.o

Sure enough, Mr. Information Highway Surfer was at his terminal. But he wasnAEt alone. Pressed intimately between him and his workstation was an attractive brunette in a business suit.

oSheAEs his coworker.o A perfect scheme. One stayed late, one came in early. Their coworkers probably pitied them clocking all that overtime.

oWell, partyAEs over, Apartment 4.o Amber inched up to the window. A tiny space between the vertical blinds offered her all the clearance she needed. Pressing the lens against the window, she captured their passionate kiss with the rest of the roll of film.

The kiss ended. Amber dropped out of sight. As if she sensed something, the brunette looked through the half-closed blinds. Plastering herself against the side of the building, Amber rounded the corner and froze.

oI knew it was you!o Out of the shadows a man walked toward her. Right across the view of the open windows, jeopardizing her surveillance with every step.

Tendrils of greasy hair stood out from his head at odd angles, illuminated by the slanting light of the late afternoon sun. Squinting against the glare, he looked like Mr. McGoo behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. His threadbare suit looked like heAEd slept in it. And he probably had. Dapper would never be a word used to describe James Heck, Amber reflected.

Dragging in a breath, she forced her heart to resume beating. oWhat are you doing here, James?o she hissed, her body still pasted against the wall. Dearly she hoped James followed her example to get out of plain sight.

Her hopes went unanswered as Heck leaned against the building, supporting himself nonchalantly with one arm. oI came to see who got the job over me.o

Amber felt her stomach tighten as her body readied itself for the coming confrontation.

oDidnAEt know you were bidding on it,o she said noncommittally.

oYou should have.o Heck had a frown that made him look like a petulant child. A very large, slimy kind of petulant child. oI am the only competition in town.o

Amber felt the edges of her patience fraying. Long hours spent in a hot car, plus an evening at Barlow & Charles to look forward to put her in a bad mood to start. oMy client didnAEt mention that she was considering other offers,o she snapped.

oShe didnAEt mention you to me, either.o Heck kicked at a tuft of grass, and Amber could tell he was taking the loss of work really hard. oLed me to believe I had the job,o he continued, still taking out his frustrations on the hapless turf. oPut in quite a few hours on the preliminaries.o

oDonAEt you just hate it when that happens?o Looking for a way out of the conversation, any way, she hadnAEt realized how snide that sounded.

oSure do.o

If Heck was making a point, she wished heAEd get to it.

oIAEm in for quite a few out of pocket expenses,o Heck said at last.

Amber groaned inwardly. Like she wasnAEt.

oMaybe youAEd like to reimburse me for all that preliminary work, that way we could kind of work together on it.o

So that was it. Heck wanted a cut. Even if she had the money, slimy James Heck, proprietor of Heck, Sleuth and Company would not be her choice of a collaborator. Truth was she didnAEt have a dime to spare. Not that sheAEd tell the competition that.

oThanks for the offer, James, but IAEve already done my own preliminary.o

oFigured you would.o

Amber launched herself away from the wall, forcing Heck to follow her if he wanted to keep talking. The longer she fended off proposals from James Heck, the more chance she had of being discovered. oListen, I was just on my way somewhere....o Amber looked around for his car, but the parking lot was virtually empty. oDo you need a lift?o

oAh, no.o The question took Heck by surprise, as if heAEd been lost in thought. Or taking her refusal very badly. oBut I was wondering something else....o

Please go away, Amber prayed silently. DonAEt ask me anything else. The irony of James Heck thinking she was so successful he could cash in on her action almost made her laugh. For all his sleazy antics, at the moment Fair Game, Inc. wasnAEt doing any better than Heck, Sleuth and Co. If she hadnAEt had Heck in the flesh to deal with, she might have laughed out loud. With a heavy sigh, Amber turned to face him. oWhat is it, James?o

oI was wonderinga.o He let the sentence trail off, giving Amber a sinking suspicion of the real reason heAEd tailed her to her own surveillance.

oYes, James?o

oSince IAEm the one out of pocket here....o He paused again. Her stomach tightened with tension. oWell, IAEd forgive you if youAEd go out with me on Saturday,o he finished in a rush.

Only James Heck would accuse a woman of theft and then ask her out, Amber thought darkly. HeAEd made an equally awkward proposition at the association Christmas party. Rumor had it heAEd propositioned every woman there. And only James Heck of the firm his colleagues laughingly called Heck, Sleaze and Co., would suggest she owed him a romantic favor for his loss of a contract.

oSorry James, IAEve already made plans.o

oSome other time then?o

Unfortunately a guy like James Heck would never take some other time as the brush off it was. Some other time would become every other time they met.

oI donAEt think so, James.o

He took her refusal in characteristic bad grace. oYou seeing someone?o

oThatAEs none of your concern.o The words sounded harsh, even through the filter of her annoyance. In truth, there hadnAEt been anyone for a long time. That fact she certainly wasnAEt going to share with James Heck.

oGuess not.o Without so much as a backward glance, Heck turned and walked away in the other direction. Must have parked his car on the street somewhere.

oIAEll let you know if I hear of anything,o she called after him. Heck nodded, but kept walking.

For several agonizing minutes she watched him leave, until he disappeared around a bend in the road. Her heart drummed a staccato beat. Amber glanced back at the building behind her. No one came to investigate. The blinds to all the windows were firmly shut. She heaved a sigh of relief.

That was close. If Heck showed up a couple of minutes before, sheAEd be explaining her presence there to the police. But for once fate had played into her hands.

And Amber Shaw had landed herself another lucrative contract.

****

Her exhilaration died as soon as she stepped through the door of Barlow & Charles.

Angry voices drifted down the corridor, GraysonAEs and an older manAEs. Amber let herself in quietly. Taking a seat at the secretaryAEs desk, she reached for the last stack of files awaiting organization. SheAEd almost finished the job last night. That was the problem with untidy people, she reasoned, they just didnAEt realize how little time it took to keep things in order.

Snippets of the altercation in progress caught her attention.

oWhat did you expect me to do?o Grayson sounded even more angry than heAEd been in court.

Amber rose silently from her seat. Taking a handful of files on the pretense of returning them to the cabinet, she crept as far down the hallway as she could safely go.

oWhat I didnAEt expect you to do was to hire a private investigator to snoop through our confidential files!o

oSheAEs not investigating us,o Grayson thundered back, osheAEs simply putting away all those files that have been sitting around the office since Nicole left. Besides, she isnAEt that type of PI, she has another specialty altogether.o

oSo you said.o The other manAEs voice was low, menacing.

WouldnAEt want to run up against him in court. Amber inched further down the hall.

oAnd I donAEt like it one bit,o he continued.

oSheAEs done a great job,o Grayson said, defensively. oHer help is free and we were going to have to hire someone anyway. Is that whatAEs bothering you, John? That you werenAEt in on it?o

oMy only concern is for confidentiality,o the other said, now on the defensive instead. Yet there was a hint of malice to his voice that sent a shudder down AmberAEs spine. She hadnAEt even met John Barlow yet, but she knew for certain she didnAEt like him.

oI canAEt see what interest sheAEd have in the contents of our files.o

oNo, of course not.o Amber heard him stomp a few feet away, then the impact of his fist hitting the top of GraysonAEs desk. oBlind trust is one of your shortcomings, just like your father.o

Silence filled the office. She heard Grayson walk around his desk, pictured him standing before Barlow, anger darkening his face.

oLet me make one thing clear.o He launched the words at his partner, all the more dangerous for the quiet manner in which they were spoken. oI am not my father and neither are you. We are partners in this firm, and I will do what I decide is best for it.o

oThatAEs--o

He cut the other man off. oYou were the one who insisted in taking time off when it was least convenient. You were the one who left me with not only my own, but your caseload as well not even a week after Nicole left. What did you expect me to do? Work all night and all day? Well, thatAEs what IAEve been doing. And when help was offered free of charge, I took it. If you donAEt like it, thatAEs too bad. IAEm considering offering Ms Shaw some freelance work once her time here is up.o

oWe canAEt afford it.o BarlowAEs words practically exploded between them.

oWhy canAEt we?o

oIAEve been away. And youAEve done too much charity work!o

oIt was for your charity. If youAEve changed your mind about that, itAEs too late.o

oI donAEt want a PI in here.o

oWhy, John? What are you afraid sheAEll find?o

The question hung between them. Finally, Grayson answered it himself. oI donAEt really think you care about the PI. I think youAEre just angry because I did this on my own. Well get used to it, Barlow, because if I want to hire Amber Shaw, I will. Even if I have to pay her myself.o

oI wonAEt let you do that.o

oTry and stop me.o For a moment there was silence. oAre you here to work? Or did you just stop by to complain about the way things were going in your absence?o

The door to GraysonAEs office flew open. Amber leapt back behind the filing cabinet. A heavy-set dark-haired man with graying temples rushed by her. He leveled a vehement look in her direction, them stormed through the door and slammed it behind him.

When she glanced up, Grayson was standing before her.

oYouAEre late,o he snapped in greeting.

oLate!o Amber said incredulously. oI stayed late here last night--just because I couldnAEt stand to leave any loose ends laying around. Because I pitied you for the pathetic situation youAEd allowed your business to get into.o She waved her arm around the now tidy reception area. oThe mess it took you a month to make, I almost cleaned up in one night.o

Grayson had the decency to look chastised.

Amber shut the filing cabinet with more force than she intended. oMark my words, counselor, from now on you wonAEt get one second more of my time than IAEm legally obligated to provide.o

He eyed her sheepishly. oI canAEt find a thing.o

Amber grabbed him by the sleeve of his white shirt. The glare she offered leveled the height difference between them. oCome on, then Einstein, let me show you. ItAEs all very simple, alphabetical order, you know, like we all learned in kindergarten.o

He stood uncharacteristically quiet while she went over the files, now neatly arranged in the main filing cabinet. After that, she outlined the system in his own file drawer, the one heAEd presumably invented. But when she went to show him where sheAEd put the files that belonged in BarlowAEs office, the door was locked.

oThereAEs a key in my top desk drawer,o Grayson said, turning back down the hall to his own office. A moment later he returned, hands stuffed boyishly into his pockets. oIAEm sure there was a key in my top drawer at one time.o

oI can just imagine what your apartment looks like,o she growled, taking a seat once again behind NicoleAEs desk.

She expected him to storm back down the hall to his own office, but instead he leaned against the filing cabinet.

oOh yeah? So tell me, Amber, private investigator extraordinaire, what does my apartment look like? Did you go out there and peer in my windows?o

oOf course not. I have a life. I have a business thatAEs suffering because of your little scheme here.o

He waited.

oOkay,o she said, taking the bait. oYou own a condo in a luxury building.o

oWrong.o

oTownhouse, then. Downtown, close to the office.o

oClose enough,o he said obliquely, but there was a hint of mischief in his expression.

oTwo bedrooms, den.o

oWrong.o

oThree.o

oWrong again.o He smiled triumphantly.

Four perhaps? Now why would a single man want a house that big, she wondered. Unless in fact he wasnAEt single. SheAEd just assumed. Perhaps he lived with someone. AmberAEs eyes narrowed. Still, he just didnAEt have that look of married man. He was too untidy.

Now thatAEs a sexist thought. Her friend Nancy was one of the most untidy people she knew. And sheAEd been married for six years.

Amber shut her eyes like a fortune teller deep in thought. oLet me see, itAEs professionally decorated.o

oWrong.o

oAll right, you decorated it yourself, in one shopping trip to one of those catalog outlet stores.o

oI did not!o

Amber smiled. oSo it was two trips.o

Grayson crossed his arms. oYouAEre not exactly batting a thousand here, Ms. Shaw, Private Investigator.o

oOkay, itAEs ... tastefully, but unremarkably decorated.o

oGive me some credit.o

Amber continued undaunted. oMost of the rooms arenAEt lived in. A cleaning lady comes in once a week to keep it dusted and to do your laundry. You order your groceries from one of the few stores that delivers every Saturday. Except for the den and the master bedroom, you wouldnAEt know anyone actually lived there. The only appliance in the kitchen that gets regular use is the coffee maker.o

oWrong,o he snapped. oIAEm a gourmet cook.o

That stopped her. oReally?o Now she was going to have to rethink her profile of Grayson Charles, yet again. oBut you havenAEt cooked in a long time. Not since the trouble at the firm.o

oThereAEs no trouble at my firm.o He pushed himself away from the filing cabinet and stormed down the hall. oWeAEre just a little short of help right now.o

Amber waited until the door closed behind him. After counting to ten, she followed him.

oWhat is it?o he demanded when she knocked softly on his door.

oSpeaking of help.o Amber poked her head into his office. oNow that the secretarial work is under control, is there anything else I can do to be of assistance?o Seeing as I am a trained professional...o She let the sentence trail off.

For a moment he seemed at a loss, then he shoved a file folder across the desk. oThere are a few facts in here that need checking.o Amber took the file. She glanced at the clock on GraysonAEs desk. oFine, the reference library is open until eight. ThatAEs where IAEll be.o He didnAEt say anything as she left. ****

Grayson scowled at the work piled high on his desk. Why did everyone, from Roger, to Barlow and now the self-assured Ms. Shaw, think they had him figured out? He sat back in his chair, BarlowAEs words still digging at his subconscious. Was he truly like his father whoAEd never been cut out to be a lawyer?

No, Roger favored Dad far more than he. Roger had been his favorite. His father had had a competent but hardly stellar career. Was Barlow right in his criticism? Jumpy John was merely paranoid, he decided. That kind of control freak would find fault in anything he did.

So why did he feel like such a heel? Why did Amber ShawAEs assessment of his lifestyle, down to the well-used coffee maker unsettle him? He should have thanked her for her hard work. It was generous of her, considering. He probably would have if Barlow hadnAEt made him so angry.

The phone startled him from his musing.

oKnew IAEd find you there,o Roger said, before heAEd even had a chance to say hello. oDonAEt you know that all work and no play makes Grayson a dull boy?o

oRoger--o Even to his own ears, his voice sounded tired and much older than his thirty-one years. oI really am busy. A little sympathy might be nice.o

oSympathy? Gray, I think you ought to get off your butt here. If Jumpy John isnAEt pulling his own weight, you should get yourself another partner.o

oSome help you are, Roger.o

oAnd speaking of nice butts--o

oRoger!o

oHow is the lovely Ms. Shaw?o

oSheAEs a great person to have on your side rather than in opposition.o

There was a long meaningful pause on the other end of the phone line. Finally Roger said, a little enviously, oAnd here I underestimated you, brother.o

oDonAEt be ridiculous, sheAEs just helping out at the firm.o

oNow that is a waste of a great opportunity.o

oWhat opportunity would that be?o

oGray, you are truly hopeless. But one manAEs castoffs are another manAEs treasures. So they say.o

oShe wouldnAEt even look at you.o

oWhat makes you so sure?o

Grayson sighed. oWhat did you want, Roger?o

oWanted to know if you could squeeze half an hour from that busy schedule of yours for a drink.o

oSorry, not tonight.o

oYouAEre getting awfully boring in your old age.o

oBye, Roger.o

oBye, Gray. Oh, and say hello to Ms. Shaw for me will you?o

oIAEm sure sheAEd much rather strangle you, instead.o

Laughing, Roger hung up the phone.

Grayson glowered at his empty office. Even having her company for one night was a vast improvement. She was a lively office-mate. And he did enjoy a good argument. He smiled grimly. It was the most attention heAEd had from a woman in months.

****

Two fact finding tools most people overlooked were the telephone book and the public library. If you asked the right questions, if you knew where to look, if you kept your eyes open, information retrieval was easy. AmberAEs fact finding mission took less than half an hour. Not much got by her. The ability to read people was a skill sheAEd had since childhood.

So why was it so hard to place Grayson Charles? Why did he stubbornly refuse to be the villain she so desperately wanted him to be?

SheAEd heard him tell Barlow what a great help sheAEd been, yet he spared not even a word of thanks for her hard work. And every time she was ready to slap him for his arrogance, he looked at her with those lost dark eyes, and she found herself working overtime as his secretary while her own work suffered.

Amber let herself back into the offices of Barlow & Charles. Dumping the files on NicoleAEs desk, she turned to go down the hall toward his private office.

And found Grayson leaning against the filing cabinet, waiting for her.

She jumped, in spite of herself and bit back a very unladylike word.

oI was waiting for you,o he said softly.

oSo I see.o She waited patiently to hear what heAEd say next.

oIAEm sorry I took off after you earlier.o

Amber opened her mouth to offer a othatAEs okayo, but he held up his hand so sheAEd let him continue.

oPlease forgive my bad behavior. IAEve been under a lot of pressure lately, not that thatAEs any excuse,o he said quickly. oBut I wanted to thank you for your hard work. It was generous of you, in view of the circumstances.o

Amber found herself smiling. A nice euphemism. Especially since the court had ordered her. But it was nice to know her help was appreciated. oI couldnAEt resist, you were in such a pathetic mess.o

oGee, thanks.o

oYouAEre welcome.o

They looked at each other, suddenly uncomfortable.

oHereAEs the material you wanted from the library,o she said, picking up the file folder.

Grayson took it from her hands and put it back down on the desk. oI was wondering if youAEd like to have a drink with me. My brother, Roger,o he winced at the sound of RogerAEs name and the significance it had to Amber, but she smiled back and he continued. oMy brother says that too much work makes me boring.o

oHeAEs probably right about that,o Amber said. oBut I have to admit IAEm guilty of the same crime. When you love your work so much, sometimes itAEs hard to stop.o

oHave you had dinner?o

As if on cue, AmberAEs stomach growled. oNo, I came straight from,o she paused, self consciously, owell, the surveillance I was working on.o

oDid you get him?o

Amber grinned wickedly. oI got him.o

oWhy donAEt we call it a night then? I know this place that makes great burgers, assuming that you eat meat--o

oRight now I could devour a steak!o

oThey make great steaks, too.o

He looked so open, so vulnerable, she couldnAEt help but agree. oSounds great, Counselor. LetAEs go.o

The unseasonably warm air packed the sidewalks with people enjoying one of the last pleasant nights of the season. They walked the couple of blocks to the tiny restaurant Grayson suggested and sat outside on the patio.

oSo,o Amber said as they finished the last of their coffee. oTell me about John Barlow. That was him who stormed past me earlier, wasnAEt it?o

oIn the flesh,o Grayson admitted.

oHeAEs a lot older than I expected somehow.o

oLike I said, he was my fatherAEs partner.o

oAnd you felt obligated to join the firm.o

oWe arenAEt in court, Amber. I donAEt have to answer your questions.o

She laughed and dug into the scoop of ice cream sitting in the silver bowl. oSorry, force of habit.o

He picked up his own spoon and stole a scoop of her ice cream. oBut IAEll answer your question anyway. Barlow & Charles was my motherAEs only source of support. I couldnAEt let her down. My father died young, before heAEd had a chance to save for a comfortable retirement.o

oAnd Roger wasnAEt going to follow in your dadAEs footsteps?o

oRoger helps when he can,o Grayson said defensively. oYou shouldnAEt judge him by what Sandy said. HeAEs really not so bad.o

oHe dumped her, Grayson. After heAEd led her to believe they were going to get married.o

oRoger has a problem with commitment.o

oIAEm not surprised.o

oThereAEs no law against it.o

oThere ought to be.o

He swiped the last mouthful of ice cream. oLetAEs stop talking about Roger.o

oDeal.o

oNow that IAEve answered your questions, youAEre obligated to answer mine.o

oLike you said, Counselor, weAEre not in court.o

oYouAEre free to take the fifth.o

She laughed. oWhat is it that you so badly want to know?o

oWhat attracts a nice woman like you to a career getting even with straying men?o

Dangerous ground, that, Amber thought. oI take the fifth. And I never said I was nice.o

oHave you never had a male client?o

That softly spoken question stopped her cold. oNo,o she said laying down her spoon. oI-I guess I havenAEt. Not that I wouldnAEt, you know represent one, itAEs just that no manAEs ever shown up in my office.o

oBut they must exist, men whoAEve been dumped.o

oThe statistics donAEt speak well for your gender, Mr. Charles.o

He frowned. oThere are always anomalies in the statistics.o

oIAEm sure there are. But IAEve never met one, in all the cases IAEve handled.o

oMaybe because men tend to keep their pain to themselves.o

oPerhaps.o Amber took another sip of coffee. oI thought we were trying to forget about work tonight.o

oGuilty.o Grayson rose from his seat. oIAEll walk you back to your car.o

****

Even in the dark, Amber could tell there was something wrong with the lopsided way the Honda sat on the pavement.

oOh no.o She rushed forward, confirming her suspicions.

oWhat is it?o

oFlat tire.o Amber leaned against the car that was at least five years past its prime. oThatAEs a new tire, too. I must have run over something in the industrial park.o

oIsnAEt that always the way?o Grayson offered sympathetically. oMy car always breaks down on a full tank of gas.o

oI didnAEt think Mercedes broke down.o The barb came out more nasty than she intended and she winced.

Grayson ignored her sarcasm. oOnce in a while they do. And theyAEre expensive to fix. Can I offer you a lift?o

oThanks, but IAEm going to need it first thing in the morning. I better call the motor league.o

oGot a spare?o

oSure, but itAEs a snow tire.o

oIt would get you home.o

oIAEm perfectly capable of changing a tire.o

oTake less time if there were two of us....o

oI didnAEt think lawyers did tires.o

oConsider it a job for legal aid.o

Amber smiled, even though it was past midnight and they were standing in the middle of a deserted street. Opening the trunk, she took out the jack and wrench. oAll right, Counselor, itAEs all yours.o

Positioning the jack, he went to work with the wrench. oGot a flashlight?o

oHang on.o Amber opened the passenger side door and reached into the glove compartment.

Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of a strange pattern stenciled across the windows in the dim glow of the streetlight.

Her gasp brought GraysonAEs head up sharply. oWhat is it?o

oLook!o

Leaving the tire, he followed her around the front of the car.

Scrawled in the dust on her windshield were the words: Stay Away.

Chapter FIVE

oThe worm!o

The petite brunette stared at the black and white photos spread across AmberAEs desk.

oYou know her?o

oHer name is Mandy,o her client launched the name across the desk like a flame thrower. oSheAEs his boss, can you believe that?o

oActually,o Amber said. oI can. IAEve seen it all.o

Jennifer rummaged in her purse, coming up at last with a well-worn check book. oWell, thatAEs it then. Will you take a personal check?o

oCheck or credit card, which ever is more convenient,o Amber said congenially. The deluxe package was hers, regardless of GraysonAEs demands on her time.

oI want the deluxe package. The extra-deluxe package if you have one.o

oWe can arrange a custom package if you wish.o

oI want lights, camera, videotape. A framed sixteen by twenty to hang on my living room wall!o

oThe photograph will be extra.o Amber reached for her calculator. oIAEll have to hire a photographer and a videographer.o

oNo problem. Just give me the grand total.o

Amber named a sum sure to send Jennifer fleeing her office.

Jennifer swallowed, thought about it for a second, then asked quickly, oCan I borrow that calculator?o

Amber watched breathlessly as she balanced her checkbook.

oAnd how much would you like as a deposit?o

oThirty percent,o Amber said, certain even that much would be beyond JenniferAEs budget.

To her amazement Jennifer scribbled her name on one of her embossed checks and handed it calmly to Amber.

Amber tucked the check in her top drawer. Folding her hands neatly in front of her, she leaned forward.

oNow all we need to discuss is what type of revenge we should exact upon Mister--o

oJames. Aidan James.o

oMr. James. Please remember in your zeal, Ms. Roberts, the revenge must be physically harmless in nature, that is one of stipulations of my contract.o

oI donAEt care if itAEs harmless,o Jennifer growled. oAs long as he never forgets it. As long as he never forgets me.o

oOh, I donAEt think heAEll be forgetting either of us by the time IAEm finished,o Amber said with confidence. None of them ever did. That was the point. Separating men from the sheer arrogance that the world was theirs to shape at will.

oHeAEll be difficult to catch by himself,o Jennifer said. oShe sticks to him like glue.o oDonAEt worry, o Amber began. Her words trailed off into silence. She offered Jennifer a feral smile. oGlue, you say?o ****

Two hours later, the photographer and the videographer were booked. All Amber needed now was to arrange time off in the evening from Barlow & Charles to carry out the terms of her contract.

She should have been elated at the sudden improvement in business, but she couldnAEt get the image of the angry words scrawled across her windshield.

Grayson had insisted it was a prank gone wrong. oStay away from what?o heAEd demanded.

oI donAEt know?o If it was a prank, its purpose eluded her. oFrom Barlow & Charles, maybe.o

oYou werenAEt parked any where near the office,o heAEd said, trying to inject some reason into the situation. oWho would have known it was your car?o

oI donAEt know--o

oIt was probably some wacko who doesnAEt like people parking in front of their house.o

oYou could be right,o sheAEd finally agreed. And hoped he was.

Thrusting the episode from her mind, Amber put the Roberts file back into the cabinet and headed for the offices of Barlow & Charles.

****

oEarth to Amber Shaw.o

Amber jumped, sending the ream of paper in her hand into a miniature hurricane. They settled in an unruly mess on the desktop. Angrily she looked up at the culprit whoAEd startled her from her contemplation of glue and its many properties.

oLooked like you were a million miles away.o Grayson winced at her expression. oDonAEt tell me, a case, right?o

Amber forced her expression into a more congenial one. oGuilty as charged.o

oNot Sandy and Roger--o

oNo, Counselor, you can rest easy. I gave Sandy a refund. Your twin is off the hook. For the moment.o

oThatAEs a relief.o

oTell Roger not to be smug about it. I might consider remedial action.o

oIAEll relay the message.o Grayson smiled ruefully. oIf the expression on your face is any indication, I pity the recipient.o

oDonAEt pity him, too much,o she barked, then grimaced at her tone. oHeAEs in the process of breaking someoneAEs heart.o

oAnd broken hearts are notoriously hard to heal. Too bad there isnAEt a pill you can take.o As though heAEd revealed far more than he intended, Grayson fell suddenly silent.

Had someone broken GraysonAEs heart? Amber filed that piece of information in the growing file in her mind and offered him an easy out.

oThere is a pill, Grayson. And IAEm it.o

It sounded mercenary, even to her own ears. Amber laced her fingers together and looked innocently up at him. oSo, what were you trying to tell me while I was ... absent?o

He followed the change in their topic of conversation gratefully. oI asked you if you were hungry.o

oFamished.o

A slow smile crept across GraysonAEs face. oThen allow me to take you away from all this.o

oAre you sure? You seem to be amassing quite an expense account for your free help.o

oSheAEs worth it.o

Amber pushed the papers aside. Contemplation of the properties of glue and the paperwork could wait until later. oIAEm glad you think so. Where should we go?o

oHow about The Terrace Restaurant? After all, itAEs where we met.o

She took him up on the challenge. oAll right, Counselor, youAEre on.o

****

Somehow he had to keep Amber in the offices of Barlow & Charles. In a few short days sheAEd become a necessity to the smooth running of the firm. And though he was reluctant to admit it even to himself, she was rapidly becoming a necessity to the harmonious existence of Grayson Charles.

Roger, if he knew, would die laughing at the irony of it all.

But as he maneuvered the Mercedes through the busy evening traffic, Grayson found business to be the last thing on his mind. His traitorous thoughts kept straying into other possibilities.

What was she like away from the office? He couldnAEt help wondering. Did the consummate professional Ms. Shaw own anything that wasnAEt a power suit? Did the contents of her closet include a pair of beat up blue jeans? Was there a frayed old teddy bear hiding in a box in her storage locker like an ugly secret?

oWhat are you smiling about?o

Grayson jerked back to the present. No, stuffed toys certainly werenAEt Amber ShawAEs style.

oI was just thinking about the last time we were here,o he said, turning the car into the parking lot.

She glanced over at him, her expression guarded. oAnd youAEre laughing?o

oIn retrospect it was funny.o

oI donAEt recall you thinking so at the time.o

oI seem to have rediscovered my sense of humor.o He held the door open for her, wondering if sheAEd glare in return for his chivalrous gesture. She offered him a smile of thanks.

oMaybe Roger was right about you working too hard. ItAEs not good for you.o

oIAEm sure Roger will be delighted to hear you thought well of him,o Grayson said as they followed the hostess to their table.

Right or wrong, he was determined to forget about work tonight. As soon as he got that one detail out of the way, the rest of the night was his. He intended to spend it on pleasure.

A warm breeze stirred the candles in spite of the lateness of the season. Piano music drifted across the terrace. Only the crimson leaves drifting down onto the terra-cotta tile from neighboring maples betrayed the truth. Another few weeks and the trees would be bare, but if she closed her eyes, Amber could believe it was still July and the incident last time she visited The Terrace had never happened.

Candlelight added golden highlights to GraysonAEs dark curls. Tips of flames reflected in the dark depths of his eyes. A woman could get lost in the intensity of his gaze. A woman could be lured into a false sense of security by his attentiveness, his quiet humor. Why this man? Had the circumstances been different, she might laugh at the irony of it all.

oWhen is John Barlow coming back to work?o Amber asked as the busboy cleared away the last of their dinner dishes.

oWithin the next few days.o Grayson dumped a lump of sugar into his coffee and stirred it. oWhy do you ask?o

oI got the feeling he didnAEt like me.o Amber stopped short of revealing sheAEd eavesdropped on their entire conversation.

oHe didnAEt even meet you, Amber. What makes you so sure?o

She shrugged and contemplated the menu of fattening deserts. oA hunch. IAEm good at reading people.o She decided to pass up a slice of the sinfully chocolate layer cake.

oI suppose it comes with the territory.o

oLawyers must develop a sixth sense for people as well. You know, who really did it, and whoAEs innocent.o

oIt isnAEt my job to judge their souls, Amber.o

oThe ones with tarnished souls are obvious to me.o

Grayson tipped back his head and laughed heartily. oAnd what about me? Is my soul tarnished?o

AmberAEs eyes narrowed across the flame between them. oIAEm reserving judgment about you.o

oReally? IAEm not guilty as charged?o

oSentence hasnAEt yet been passed.o

oLucky me. I guess IAEd better be on my best behavior.o

He reached between them, taking the glass of ice water the waitress had just refilled and moved it to his side of the table. oI think IAEll keep this over here, just in case.o

oRelax, IAEve changed my modus operandi.o

Grayson shook his head. oI do have to hand it to you, Amber. No one I know could have made a business of such a strange specialty.o

Amber felt herself blushing and hoped the darkness covered it. oActually, I was a dismal success as a private investigator.o Now, why did I tell him that?

In good grace, he let the comment drop.

But the words kept coming, as if the one glass of wine sheAEd had with dinner had loosened her lips. And her hold on good sense.

oMy business was practically in bankruptcy court, until my friend Maureen asked me to track down her boyfriend.o

oAnd you found him.o

oOf course,o Amber said a little indignantly. oI am a good researcher.o

oI had noticed.o

oAnyway, I did find him. But Maureen wasnAEt satisfied. She wanted to get even with him for all the heart ache heAEd caused her.o

oSo what did you do to the poor guy?o

Amber grinned at him over her coffee cup. oOh no, Counselor. I never discuss the details of my cases.o

oCome on, tell me.o

She shook her head, crimson hair catching the candleAEs light. oUh-uh. It just wouldnAEt be professional.o

oCruel to pique a guyAEs curiosity like that. I gather it didnAEt involve ice.o

oNo ice. Suffice to say Maureen got her revenge. She told two friends, who in turn told two friends....o

oDonAEt you ever get tired of it? Looking at the seedy side of love?o

Coffee burned its way down her throat. She swallowed hard. Now where did that come from? If she didnAEt know better, sheAEd think Grayson had a similar talent when it came to reading souls. Fixing him with her coolest gray stare, she asked calmly, oIs there another?o

oMs. Shaw, you are terribly cynical.o

oOccupational hazard.o

oYouAEve missed your calling, Amber. You should have been a lawyer.o

oOh, I could never have afforded university.o The words slipped from her lips before she could call them back. Why on earth had she told him that? Forget I said that, she wished him earnestly.

oStill, you have a successful business.o He laughed, putting her at ease in spite of what sheAEd just blurted out. oAnd I wouldnAEt have wanted to meet up with you on the courtroom floor. Once was enough.o

oYou won the case.o

He smiled back at her. Eyes like dark jewels glinted in the candlelight. oThe settlement was more than I had hoped for.o

Grayson reached across the table and covered her hand with his. His skin was warm against the slight coolness the breeze had taken on as the evening progressed. Wrapped in his, her hand looked incredibly small. Amber rarely thought of herself as a short person. Only when she stood next to someone extraordinarily tall, or had to climb on the stove to get something out of the cupboard, did the reality of her height intrude upon her self image. Most of the time she used nerve and persistence to make up for the lack. Next to Grayson, she couldnAEt help feeling slight and delicate. Normally the sensation would bother her, but instead she felt comforted, protected. And that bothered her a whole lot more.

Amber attempted to pull her hand from his. Grayson captured it with his other hand. Having no other choice, she looked across the table at him. Velvet brown eyes stared back at her. Her gaze dropped to his full lips and she had to physically restrain herself from leaning across the table to kiss him. The warmth of his touch spread up her arm. A rush of heat swept her body. A sudden vivid image of what those hands following in its wake flashed through her mind.

This she hadnAEt expected. Briefly, she entertained the possibility he might find her as unforgettable as she had him, then banished the thought. Breath caught in her throat. The sensation of protection changed to one of being cornered.

oAmber, thereAEs something IAEve been meaning to ask you.o

She had to get away even if it was just to the ladies for a few minutes to gather her thoughts.

oWould you excuse me for a moment--o

Amber moved to stand up. Her napkin slid from her lap. She pulled her hand from GraysonAEs, reached for it.

And felt his fingers close around it instead.

She looked up, into his face only inches away. His breath was warm against her cheek. He smelled of soap and the dusky undertones of coffee and wine.

Before she could draw away, he closed the distance between them. Feather soft lips covered hers. She felt the sweep of his long eyelashes. Then she was swept under.

Sensation rushed in a dazzling arc from her lips down her spine. Strong arms drew her closer. She went willingly into his embrace. Her own hands laced through his dark curls. For a man sheAEd thought to be cold he set her completely aflame.

Sounds of the restaurant around them retreated into the distance. Dimly, she registered the click of the waitressAE heels against the tile as she moved toward them, then turned abruptly away. We must make quite a sight. She hoped none of the staff recognized them from their last visit.

Brazenly, she realized she didnAEt care. GraysonAEs lips molded to her own. His tongue flicked against hers, and she responded with a duel of her own. He moaned softly, low in his throat. With more of those weightless kisses, he followed the line of her lips, then dropped lower to caress the soft skin beneath her ear. Those torturous lips withdrew slightly, drifting up the slope of her nose to deposit kisses like a gift on each of her closed eyes.

But then Grayson drew gently away. Amber groaned, a muffled cry of reluctance. Within the fire of his dark eyes embers glowed like black opals.

oCome back soon,o he whispered. Retrieving her napkin he placed it on the white table cloth.

Amber straightened her skirt and fled to the ladiesAE room.

Cool tile against her back helped dull the fire inside her. What was I doing? What was I thinking? Sometime during the meal her good sense had taken a dive off the terrace. I canAEt believe I was just kissing Grayson Charles. He didnAEt seem to mind, she thought and swallowed hard. In fact it had been his idea. Or had it been hers?

Did it matter? Either way, it was a very bad idea. SheAEd been ordered by the court to work for him, as the result of a mistake heAEd sued her for. Tonight sheAEd meant to ask him for a few hours off. And completely forgotten about Fair Game, Inc. and her livelihood.

The Charles brothers were simply too good looking and too charismatic for their own good. But that didnAEt change the fact that she wanted Grayson desperately. A strange sensation, she hadnAEt wanted anyone since Eric.

In the end it made no difference, she decided. You couldnAEt have everything you wanted in life. Some things, even though desirable, just werenAEt good for you.

A relationship with Grayson Charles, like too much candy, was not in her best interest. Too much lay at stake--the business sheAEd built up from nothing, her professional integrity, and last but most definitely not least, her heart. Amber knew from past experience the consequences of risking your heart in a bad prospect. Emotional damage lingered much longer than bankruptcy.

Amber splashed cold water against her face. It helped to cool the fires raging inside. Rummaging in her purse, she found her compact and brushed powder over her nose. Well, she had the outside back together. The churning emotions inside sheAEd deal with later. After a long cold shower to restore her common sense.

She made her way back through the restaurant, back straight, projecting a confidence she no longer felt. Patrons thinned as the evening wore on. They ought to be going as well. She took her seat and smiled guardedly at Grayson.

oWhat did you want to ask me?o

oIAEve been meaning to ask if you--o Grayson cleared his throat. oIf when your time with Barlow & Charles is over, if youAEd be interested in doing some contract work for us.o

His words struck her like a blow. Is that what the romantic dinner, the passionate kiss had been leading up to?

Silently, Amber called herself twenty types of fool. With one kiss Grayson had her casting aside a vow two years old. Never again, she sworn. From that day on sheAEd live for herself and build up her new business. Entanglements with men caused only heartache. Beneath the flowers, the dinners, the torrid kisses, there lay ulterior motives. A stab of ancient pain tore through her, followed swiftly by a wave of fury.

Thankfully, sheAEd seen through him in time. It would be so easy to fall for Grayson Charles with his devastating good looks and his kisses that stoked fires long dormant within her. If all he wanted was some contract work, then why hadnAEt he just asked? If he thought Amber ShawAEs soul was one of the fringe benefits included, he was sorely mistaken.

Staring across the table with that same earnest expression, Grayson waited for her reply.

oI do have a full schedule just now.o Anger clipped off the ends of her words with sharp precision.

His eyebrows drew downward at her tone. Hurt gathered in those dark eyes like storm clouds. oI could really use your help,o he said softly.

oPerhaps you could find something else to sue me for.o

Oops! She hadnAEt meant to say that. And not with such venom. She watched his full lips harden to a thin line. Delightful tingles of that last kiss settled in her stomach in a cold weight. She choked back the pain she knew was coming. Later. A familiar pain, sheAEd dealt with it before. She could get over it again. Amber took a swallow of cold coffee.

oI guess we better get back to the office. The work you wanted me to finish tonight is still on the desk where I left it.o

oYou havenAEt answered my question.o Anguish colored his tone.

I hurt him. Guilt tangled with the ache inside. Why was Grayson Charles hurting, when heAEd led her on like that? Humiliated her into thinking he felt the same attraction she struggled with.

oLet me think about it.o

oPlease do.o Grayson motioned for the check.

oLet me.o Amber reached for her wallet.

He waved her offer away. oItAEs my pleasure,o he said gruffly. And rose to leave. As she followed him out of the restaurant, Amber realized once again sheAEd forgotten to ask him for that night off. ****

Something I said?

Grayson focused his attention on the road in front of him instead of the beautiful woman at his side. The image of her sitting across from him, her crimson hair gilded by candlelight tortured him. The way she licked her lips when she was thinking drove him to distraction. Flames of her hungry kiss still licked at his insides.

What a fool I am. I thought the evening was going well. Despite his many attempts to understand female psychology, women remained a mystery to him. Roger was the expert. Roger knew all the right things to say. Women flocked to Roger like bees to honey while Grayson lagged behind with his leaden tongue and reticent ways.

What on earth went wrong this time? He hadnAEt meant to kiss her. But the sight of her porcelain face, wide gray eyes and waiting lips consumed him. She kissed him back with a hunger to match his own. No woman desired him like that.

Grayson glanced furtively in the rearview mirror to make sure her lipstick wasnAEt smeared across his mouth. No, there were no outward signs of their entanglement. He found himself wishing for a souvenir of her.

She hadnAEt so much glanced in his direction since they left the restaurant. Did she regret kissing him? Had he completely misread the situation?

With that one item of business out of the way, heAEd intended to pick up where they left off, forget about business and enjoy each otherAEs company. His sensual plans for the rest of the evening evaporated with his shame. Now he was heading back toward the offices of Barlow & Charles. Definitely not where he wanted to spend the remainder of the warm Indian summer night. Wracking his brain, he still couldnAEt figure out what went wrong.

He needed advice, but who could he ask? Certainly not Roger. When he finished laughing at his expense, Roger would consider her dismissal of Grayson as an opportunity to move in himself.

But what if Roger didnAEt know it was Amber he was asking about?

Amber strode through the glass door he opened for her without a word. In silence they rode up to the third floor. He couldnAEt think of anything light to say as they walked down the hall. The door to the firm swung open with a click, admitting him to his prison.

oI have a few calls to make,o Grayson said quietly. Amber nodded.

He was half way down the hall when he heard her scream.

Grayson bolted back down the hallway, skidding to a halt when he found Amber seemingly unscathed staring in horror at the inside of the top desk drawer. Slowly, he came around the side of the desk and glanced carefully inside.

And found the mutilated body of a dead mouse.

Wounded, he reasoned, it had obviously crawled in there and died. The alley behind the building was full of stray cats. Cats the night guard was fond of feeding. Any one of the feline visitors could be responsible. Despite his rationalization, like Amber he was repulsed.

Instinctively, he reached for her, and surprisingly she came willingly into his arms. He leaned his head against the top of her crimson curls, breathing in the scent of perfume and shampoo. oIAEm sorry, Amber. IAEll get rid of it.o

For a moment she burrowed deeper into his embrace, her head pillowed against his chest. Then she struggled, pulling away from him. He let her go.

oI wasnAEt expecting it, thatAEs all. I wouldn't want you to think IAEm one of those women who shrieks at the sight of a spider ... or a mouse.o

Grayson tugged the corners of his mouth into a neutral expression. If he laughed, heAEd be a dead man. But screamed was exactly what sheAEd done. oI wouldnAEt think that,o he said softly.

AmberAEs eyes narrowed, suspicion crossed her face.

Oh no. Now what have I done? Grayson watched her face cloud with anger. Surely she doesnAEt think I left it there!

oIf this is your idea of a sick joke....o

oJoke! Honestly, Amber, I have better things to do with my time.o

oI certainly hope you do.o

oLook,o he said, desperately trying to remain in control of the situation. oForget about the work. Let me drive you home.o

oI can drive myself, thank you.o

Snatching up her purse, Amber vanished through the office door.

Chapter SIX

oWhat do you mean she was cool to you?o Roger steamed milk for cappuccino as he contemplated GraysonAEs plight. The idea of a woman responding with less than unbridled passion was obviously a foreign concept to him. oDid she smack you across the face or something?

oNo, of course not!o Grayson snatched the cup from RogerAEs grasp, ignoring the grin his brother didnAEt even go to the trouble of trying to hide. oWhy, do women make a habit of smacking you?o

Roger shrugged. oItAEs happened, sure.o

Grayson shook his head. Why had he ever thought Roger could help? He leaned against the spotless black counter top and smothered the urge to spill something on it just to make the place look lived in. He didnAEt need to walk down the hallway and peer into the bedroom to know that RogerAEs domain would be just as obsessively neat, with his black lacquered bed, paisley duvet and not even a dirty sock out of place. To Roger appearances meant everything.

As boys theyAEd fought over space in their bedroom, down to the last inch, finally laying a strip of masking tape across the floor to mark their territory. And he wanted us to buy a condo together! Grayson shook his head incredulously. They would have been at each otherAEs throats!

oYou still havenAEt told me who this mystery woman is.o Roger added a froth of steam milk to the top of his own coffee and motioned for Grayson to join him in the living room.

oNo, and IAEm not going to.o

Grayson sunk wearily down onto the overstuffed black couch and waited for the leather to warm up to skin temperature. RogerAEs living room furniture, like half of his wardrobe was black leather. Roger thought it made him look artsy. Grayson thought it made him seem like a teenager in the first throes of rebellion against the status quo.

Roger sprawled on the other half of the L-shaped couch. oWe wouldnAEt be speaking of the lovely Ms. Shaw, would we?o

oNo.o He bit off the word, knowing his brother would see through his white lie as if it was written in neon letters above his head. But Roger took his denial in good grace. oSheAEs someone I met in court.o That, at least, was the truth.

oMy, havenAEt we been busy lately, big brother.o

oThat, too.o

They were silent a moment while Roger grinned like the Cheshire Cat and Grayson struggled with his thoughts.

oObviously I said something I shouldnAEt have, I just canAEt figure out what it was.o

oShe didnAEt tell you to get lost,o Roger offered helpfully. oWhat makes you think she was put off?o

Grayson groaned. RogerAEs view of the world was painted in bold brush strokes. If a woman told him to drop dead, that meant no. Anything less could be considered a come on. How could he explain a woman with such baffling nuances as Amber Shaw? Without giving away that the woman in question was Amber Shaw. oOne minute she was all over me. The next she was barely speaking to me.o

oBut she didnAEt tell you to drop dead or anything.o

oNo!o

oMaybe she was just having a bad day.o

Grayson frowned. oThatAEs not much help.o

oMaybe it was something you said.o

oThanks a bunch, Roger.o

Roger offered him another of his leering grins in reply.

oHave you finished entertaining yourself at my expense?o

oNot nearly.o

Grayson set down his coffee cup. oI should go. IAEve got to be in court tomorrow morning.o

Roger stood, blocking his path to the door. oRelax, Gray. I was only kidding. And you still havenAEt told me what exactly you want to know.o

He didnAEt even know what questions to ask. Grayson felt his face coloring with embarrassment. Roger certainly didnAEt want to make this easy for him. oWhat do you say to a woman, when you want her to know youAEre attracted to her, that you want to get to know her better, buta.o

oYouAEre not ready to hop into the sack with her yet,o Roger finished for him.

Grayson drew in a deep breath and prayed for patience. oSomething like that.o

oTell her sheAEs the most beautiful woman youAEve ever met.o

oNot really my style.o

Roger shrugged, less inclined to be helpful now that his golden advice had been ignored.

oItAEs just not the kind of thing you can blurt out over coffee.o

oCoffee!o Roger rolled his eyes. oTake her dancing, Gray.o

Grayson rubbed a hand across tired eyes. oYou know damned well I canAEt dance.o

oOh, right.o

oItAEs not like I got a lot of practice, is it? As I recall, the girls were always more interested in dancing with you.o

Roger crossed his arms in defiance of his accusation. oYou canAEt blame all your romantic failures on me. I mean look at you. You work too hard, you take too little time off, and even when youAEre not working youAEre so deadly serious. ItAEs a wonder women donAEt run screaming.o

oYouAEre making me feel so much better,o Grayson said sarcastically.

His brother looked him up and down. oThatAEs exactly what I mean. YouAEre sitting there right now, glowering at me like the worldAEs about to end instead of discussing this exciting new woman youAEre seeing.o

oMisfortune happens, Roger.o

oThatAEs right. Relationships break up, hearts get broken, businesses go bankrupt, people sue each other. But you spend so much time looking for trouble, you neglect to see the good around you, Gray. o

oIAEm trying to keep DadAEs firm going so Mom can have a good retirement.o

oSheAEs not going to starve because you take a day off.o

oShe might the way BarlowAEs been acting.o

oSo start your own firm.o

Grayson found himself suddenly at the very end of his patience. oThatAEs enough, Roger. I came here for some advice, not a lecture. ItAEs fine for you to make grandiose suggestions, but youAEre not the one who has to carry them out.o He carried his empty cup to the kitchen and set it on top of the dishwasher. Why on earth was he wasting his time drinking coffee with Roger anyway? That extra jolt of caffeine would only ensure he stayed up all night, worrying about his court appointment and ruminating over what went wrong with Amber. The whole thing had been a bad idea. Why had he bothered?

oThanks for the coffee.o He tossed his suit jacket over his shoulder and glanced at his watch. oItAEs late, IAEd better get going.o

oMeant to ask you,o Roger said as he walked toward the door. oCan I borrow your car Saturday night?o

Grayson regarded his brother from under dark brows. oWhatAEs wrong with yours?o

oItAEs in the shop.o

Obviously, he wasnAEt going to get away without one last annoyance. oI guess so.o

oHow about your new sports jacket?o

oDonAEt tell me your leather jacketAEs being repaired as well.o

oAs a matter of fact, I took it to the cleaners to be mended.o

oWild date, I take it?o

oYou could say that,o Roger said obliquely. He slumped back down on the couch and swung his long legs up on the coffee table.

Shaking his head, Grayson turned the brass door handle. He glanced over his shoulder, throwing a dark look in RogerAEs direction. oGAEnight, Roger.o

oGo to bed, Gray. If you wonAEt take some time off, at least get some sleep.o

Grayson closed the door on the rest of RogerAEs lecture.

oWhy did I bother asking him?o he muttered to himself as he waited for the elevator. oWe never agree on anything. Especially women.o **** Roger watched the door swing quietly shut. For a moment he stared at it, as if he could launch his thoughts through it into GraysonAEs departing back. Finally, certain his brother wouldnAEt be returning, he got up and locked it. He leaned against the door, surveying the spot Grayson had been sitting. GraysonAEs thoughts proclaimed themselves as loudly as if theyAEd been written above his head in letters ten feet high.

A slow smile broke across RogerAEs face. Of one thing he was sure. Amber Shaw was the woman Grayson was seeing.

oBig brother, thou doth protest too much.o

Not that the fledgling romance was going to last with Grayson being such a clod. He shook his head again. What a pity. As much as heAEd like a chance at winning her affection, she was obviously perfect for Grayson. It didnAEt take a genius to see why. A woman like Amber Shaw with a keen wit and a penetrating mind wouldnAEt be swayed by what she saw on the surface. GraysonAEs profession, his house wouldnAEt mean anything to her. SheAEd be far more interested in the Grayson inside, the man Grayson showed to no one, not even his twin.

What a shame the relationship was doomed to fail.

Then again, perhaps it didnAEt have to.

RogerAEs smile broadened. He ran a hand through his long, curly hair. He was long past due for a haircut. He snickered softly to himself.

oThe sacrifices I make for you, big brother.o

****

oHe called in sick!o

oAccording to his secretary. I just called from the phone booth across the street.o The photographer waited patiently for Amber to pay her and send her home, or to book overtime at twice her usual rate.

Amber stamped one high heeled shoe against the soft earth and choked back the urge to scream. Her heel sunk into the grass up to the sole. Yanking her foot from the sod, she succeeded only in pulling up a hunk of turf, which didnAEt satisfy her urge for destruction at all. The logistics of this prank had been a nightmare from the moment sheAEd taken the case.

An hour ago, posing as a photocopy machine meter reader, sheAEd been admitted to the plant. Finding Apartment 4AEs office, she replaced the tie he kept hanging pre-tied on a hook in his closet with an identical one smeared with an extremely sticky clear substance. Together with the photographer and the videographer, sheAEd crouched below his office window waiting ... at a price tag of over two hundred dollars an hour.

Now sheAEd received word that Apartment 4 called in sick. Strangely, so had his boss. Which of course meant she was going to need another tie, another way of getting it into the office, and she must pay the tradeswomen for their time and send them home. JenniferAEs satisfaction would have to wait until early next week, setting her schedule back several more days.

Her rent wouldnAEt wait several more days because she ran into a string of bad luck. Neither would her other expenses. If things got much worse, sheAEd have to take Grayson up on his offer of freelance work.

A wave of embarrassment over last nightAEs events tinged her cheeks pink. Amber wrenched her thoughts from Grayson to the problem at hand. Two women tallied their overtime bonuses and awaited her decision.

oSame time Monday?o she asked finally.

oThereAEll be an extra charge,o the photographer said, ofor the extra hours.o

oI know, I know.o Amber waved her hand impatiently in dismissal. oPayment is on delivery as usual. Just invoice me for the extra time.o

oGood enough,o said the videographer, packing up her tiny video camera. Confident that sheAEd just doubled the amount of her contract, she strolled cheerfully off toward her car.

oHave a good weekend,o called the photographer, slinging her camera bag over her shoulder and rushing off to catch the next bus.

Amber took one last look at Apartment FourAEs office and mentally kicked him. Good weekend, indeed! She was already late for her Friday night stint at Barlow & Charles.

****

Grayson wasnAEt there when she arrived. Instead she found a hastily scribbled note saying heAEd been in court all day and would be tied up in meetings until late in the evening. Underneath was a list of things that needed to be done.

His note gave no indication of his mood or what heAEd intended by the aeincidentAE last night. At least sheAEd been granted a reprieve from the Grayson dilemma, and a chance to think it over level-headedly during the weekend.

oNow what am I going to do?o she asked the empty office. Every minute she spent in GraysonAEs company would be agony after what happened at the restaurant. Obviously, heAEd been buttering her up to ask her to do some work for him. SheAEd misinterpreted his attentions and humiliated herself by practically throwing herself at him.

Amber rubbed her temples, trying to ease the tension in her forehead. She hadnAEt slept well last night. Though her body was exhausted, her mind refused to stop running in circles around Grayson Charles.

oHow could I possibly have misread him like that?o she muttered aloud. Amber prided herself on being an expert judge of character. But sometime during the ill-fated dinner with Grayson, her common sense had evaporated. oWhat was I thinking?o

That question brought a flush to her face, even in the privacy of the empty office. oI wasnAEt thinking with my brain.o

Absently, she brushed her hand across her lips, remembering the warm pressure of GraysonAEs lips against hers, his strong arms pulling her further into his embrace. oSurely he didnAEt think he had to kiss me to get me to work for him. He must need help desperately.o

oNot as desperately as I do.o Her entire body ached for more of his purposeful, yet gentle caresses. Feelings, sensations too long buried, now rose to the surface and cried out to be satisfied.

The phone rang, jolting her from scarlet daydreams. Amber looked about guilty and embarrassed, as if the walls themselves could read her thoughts. Gingerly, she reached for the phone.

oBarlow & Charles.o

oItAEs me, Grayson.o

His rich, deep voice filled her senses. He sounded cheerful enough. Open and unguarded, completely different than he had the night before.

oBad day, I take it.o

oWhat?o

oYour note said youAEve been in court all day.o

oOh that, right. Bad day in court. IAEm going to be tied up most of the night, as well. But I was wondering....o

oYes?o Amber fought to keep her voice from trembling. This was potentially dangerous ground. What impression had she left him with last night? And what, exactly, had he been wondering?

oI was wondering if youAEd like to go out with me tomorrow night.o

oSaturday night?o

oSaturday night is date night.o

oYouAEre asking me out on a date?o Her voice rose an octave.

He paused, as if he fumbled for the right words to say. oSure, why not?o

oI donAEt know, I--o

oYouAEve been doing all this work for me, and IAEd like to pay you back.o His voice slid over her like silk, an unfamiliar seductive tone.

oYouAEve already taken me out for dinner twice.o

oYes, well--o

oAnd after last night I wasnAEt sure--o

oForget last night.o The same silky tone, but she couldnAEt mistake the order behind the kind words. oCome out with me tomorrow night and letAEs have some fun.o Fun just didnAEt seem like a Grayson kind of word. ****

Amber frowned at the contents of her closet. A row of power suits in subdued colors took up most of the hanging space. On a couple of hangers squashed into the back lay a pair of well-worn blue jeans, and a couple of out of date party dresses. Her hand froze upon the bulky bag though which she could see the lacy outline of a wedding dress. With a muffled cry of dismay, she stuffed it further to the back of her closet, out of sight and mind, and resolutely turned her thoughts to the problem at hand.

Nothing seemed suitable for a date with a man whoAEd sued her. Especially considering she didnAEt know where they were going, whether formal, causal or strictly business would be appropriate.

Which message did she want to send? She couldnAEt decide that, either. What went on in the convoluted mind of Grayson Charles remained a mystery. All her people reading skills were useless when it came to this particular specimen.

Amber rummaged through her closet, coming up with a simple black dress that would be appropriate for any of those roles. Stuffing her feet into a pair of black pumps, she added a single strand of pearls and surveyed her reflection. Black offset her flame red hair wonderfully and added a smoky depth to her gray eyes. oI donAEt know what game youAEre playing, Mr. Charles,o she told the mirror as she added a brush of taupe eschewed and a hint of lipstick. oBut, I intend to win.o Amber pressed her lips together, then smiled.

oCheck mate.o

Her buzzer rang.

She opened the door to find him lounging confidently against the door frame. oHi.o

oGood evening.o His eyes made an appreciative sweep over her black dress. oYou look wonderful.o

oI do?o The sudden compliment caught her off guard. oI mean, thank you.o

He looked magnificent himself, she decided. Dark gray pants offset a sweater in a lighter tone. Thrown over one arm was a sports jacket sheAEd noticed hanging in the closet at Barlow & Charles. Apparently, his casual attire didnAEt get much more wear than hers. But it was the open, casual smile that made him look different.

oYouAEre in a good mood tonight.o

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. oYouAEd be surprised how much a day off can do for a manAEs attitude.o

oSo you decided to take RogerAEs advice.o

For a moment his face clouded in confusion.

oAbout not working so hard,o she supplied.

oOh right. Roger is infinitely wise.o

Amber stared up at him, trying to gauge whether he was being sarcastic.

oAmong his many faults.o Sarcasm definitely colored the tone of that statement.

oWould you like to come in?o

oMaybe later. LetAEs go dancing.o

oDancing!o The word slipped out as incredulously as if heAEd asked her to go sky diving.

oYou donAEt dance?o

oItAEs been a while. IAEm ... a little rusty.o

He grinned, showing even white teeth. But his smile didnAEt hold the warmth she remembered. oI think we can get rid of the rust, Ms. Shaw.o Gallantly, he offered her his arm. oShall we go?o

His dark green Mercedes pulled up at the curb of a dance club where even the cover price was beyond her budget. Grayson handed the keys to the valet parking attendant and escorted her past the long line of people waiting to get in. The doorman seemed to know him, that, or the bill he pressed into his hand introduced him effectively enough.

I suppose wealth has its privileges. With a dark frown, Amber followed him into the crowded interior. The music was louder than she would have liked, the other women dressed as extravagantly as rare jewels. She turned to protest that they leave and go somewhere quiet enough to hear each other talk, but before she could open her mouth, Grayson smiled devastatingly down at her and led her onto the crowded dance floor.

His body moved with fluid grace, as he led her through the steps of the first fast dance. It was easy to follow his lead, as he held her a chaste distance apart. He was impressive to watch in motion, his limbs moving in effortless harmony. Never would she have guessed Grayson Charles hid such an uninhibited side beneath the outward steel of his personality.

He was a delight to watch as he glided across the dance floor, taking her with him. Poetry in motion, yet his body seethed with unbridled sensuality, as he seduced her with languid movement. She could feel the heat radiating from his body only inches from hers, and yet somehow, the electricity that had crackled between them was missing.

She considered this a moment, losing the time of the step. Grayson Charles was like chameleon, changing color just when she thought she had a fix on him.

oSomething wrong?o

oNo,o she said quickly.

oHave I told you how beautiful I think you are with your fiery red hair and your raven black dress?o

The compliment slipped easily from his lips as if he discussed the weather instead. AmberAEs eyes narrowed.

oMy mother told me never to trust men who tell me IAEm beautiful.o

oReally?o He whirled her about and pulled her back against him, not even missing a beat at her accusation. Looking down into her eyes, he said wickedly, oThen I guess IAEd better be very nice to your mother. Do you think sheAEd like me?o

ItAEs been so long since I brought a man home, sheAEd probably be impressed with anyone who still had a pulse. Amber held her tongue firmly in check. oSheAEs a hard lady to please.o

oAnd she passed on her discerning taste to her daughter.o

Actually, she told me never to trust a man, period. After all, she knew my father all her life and see, he left her. She took a lot of joy out of my life with her constant warnings. She took great pride in saying aeI told you soAE when Eric left me. Amber couldnAEt share any of the ugly thoughts passing through her mind. How could she possibly explain her wildly conflicting desires to be loved and her deep mistrust of intimate relationships? Amber reined in her thoughts. Grayson Charles was enough to handle without trying to battle her own demons as well.

oWeAEre cautious in who we entrust our affections to,o she said for lack of a more civil comment and forced a smile. She was out on a date with a handsome, attentive man. Where had her manners fled to?

But Grayson was staring down into her eyes with that warm inviting smile. oAmber, Amber....o He twirled her around and caught her close. oYouAEve got to chill out a little. Have some fun.o

Amber looked up into dark eyes that reflected the lights from the dance floor. oYou really have taken RogerAEs advice to heart.o ****

Something was wrong. Grayson could feel it in the air as soon as he stepped out of the cab in front of RogerAEs condo. He hadnAEt given RogerAEs strange request to borrow his car and his favorite sports jacket much thought. His mind crammed with details of the Gridwell case, he hadnAEt had concentration to spare for anything else. But with the case nailed down, at least for the moment, and a long Saturday night stretching before him, a few aimless details floated around in his mind, taking shape into a disturbing picture.

A call to RogerAEs only got him an answering machine message. His twin didnAEt answer his intercom, either. Grayson left the lobby and strolled down the sloping driveway to the garage entrance. He waited only a few seconds before the door opened and a car came whizzing through. Grayson slipped inside.

So RogerAEs car was in the shop, was it? He walked along the white lined parking places until he came to RogerAEs parking space. And stopped cold.

Parked neatly in its customary spot was RogerAEs obscenely-red Porsche. GraysonAEs heart froze in his chest. oLittle brother, what have you done?o ****

Tethered by GraysonAEs arm, Amber spun in a kaleidoscope of color. She blinked, seeing for a moment double Graysons. One whirled with her through the closely packed bodies on the dance floor. Another strode up behind, his face a mask of fury.

She faltered in her step, skidding to a stop in her high heels.

oWhat--o Grayson reached to catch her. Simultaneously, he found himself seized by the shoulder and whirled around.

In that moment it all clicked. The easy smile, the meaningless endearments. It was the Mercedes, the short hair and the sports jacket that put her off the trail. Pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

oRoger!o Her voice rose above the music. She heard Grayson echo her exclamation in a lower, menacing tone.

Roger started at the sound of his name. He looked quickly from Amber to his brother, paling at the fury in GraysonAEs voice. GraysonAEs eyes raked over his body, taking in the haircut that was a mirror image of his own, the sports jacket and the woman he still held by shoulder and waist. Anger flared in GraysonAEs eyes. He looked even more furious than the night she dumped the ice in his lap, more menacing than sheAEd seen him in court.

oI can explain,o Roger blurted.

oDonAEt bother.o She looked from one to the other, desperately choking back the sudden tears that sprang to her eyes. It was all just a great joke to them. And sheAEd played right along.

Amber tore her hand from RogerAEs grip. Balling her fingers into a tight fist, she resisted the urge to slap him open-handedly across the face. She suspected she wouldnAEt be the first woman to do so, but still she abhorred violence. Best to get out of this humiliating situation with a shred of her dignity intact.

Whirling on her heel, she made her way through the press of bodies to the table where sheAEd left her purse and the twenty dollar bill that would see her safely home in a cab. Never trust a man, her motherAEs words echoed in her ears. To think just a moment ago, sheAEd been ready to let that warning go forever.

oAmber, wait! IAEll drive you home.o Grayson reached for her, catching her by the arm. He looked back at Roger. oSince my car is in the parking lot.o His gaze darkened, Roger went a shade paler. oYou!o he said stabbing a finger into his brotherAEs chest, oCan take a cab home.o

oDonAEt bother.o Amber shook him off roughly.

Another couple had taken advantage of the empty seats at the table. A tall pitcher of Sangria sat between them, but their attention was consumed with each other. They looked up, eyes widening at her expression. oExcuse me,o she said tartly.

oPlease, Amber, listen to me.o

She felt Grayson behind her before he spoke, but she had no interest in any of his excuses. With a toss of her fiery curls, she turned her back to him, ready to stride off toward the door and hail a cab.

oPlease sit down,o he said.

She offered him an icy glare in reply.

oJust for a moment.o

oNot even for a second,o she growled. oYouAEve wasted enough of my time, Counselor.o She bent, snatching up her purse.

oAmber!o

As if in slow motion, she saw Grayson reach for her, saw the tip of his elbow hit the pitcher of Sangria, saw it topple precariously, then spill in a waterfall of frigid sticky juice straight into her lap.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the couple spring away from the table in shock, saw GraysonAEs eyes widen in horror.

oOh God, Amber, IAEm so sorry.o

Ice cold liquid trickled down her pantyhose, pooling in her shoes. Behind him, she saw Roger approaching, saw the horror dawn on his face. He looked at the set of GraysonAEs shoulders, the absolute fury in AmberAEs eyes, then turned and fled into the crowd.

oSorry!o AmberAEs voice cut through the beat of the music. It was desperately hard to behave with dignity with an entire pitcher of Sangria dripping from her dress, but she pulled herself up to sum of her diminutive height. oIf that was your idea of a joke, Mr. Charles, fine itAEs on me. Consider us even.o

Chapter SEVEN

oAmber!o Grayson hollered through the firmly locked door. Down the hall a door opened behind him. A middle-aged woman wearing a housecoat and an array of pink foam curlers glared out the door at him.

Great, now IAEm frightening the neighbors! He leaned his head against the door in defeat. Inside he heard the dull rush of a shower running. After his clumsiness with that pitcher of Sangria, he ought to slink home and hope in time sheAEd forgive him. But he simply couldnAEt leave her like that, thinking the worst of him. God knew what conclusions sheAEd drawn about RogerAEs impersonation of him.

Roger, heAEd deal with later. Right now it was Amber that mattered. Pressing his ear against the door, he heard the shower stop. Footsteps padded past the door.

oAmber!o He glanced cautiously over his shoulder in case the curler lady had heard him again and lowered his voice. oAmber, please! I just want to talk to you for a minute.o

Silence. The footsteps ceased. He pictured her standing still in the hallway, listening, while he embarrassed himself. Grayson knocked again.

oGive it up buddy,o said a male voice behind him. oShe doesnAEt want to talk to you.o

Grayson turned, coming face to face with a man in sweat pants and a t-shirt who likely outweighed him by about a hundred pounds. Not the kind of guy you told to get lost and mind his own business.

oLook,o Grayson said as politely as he could. oItAEs an emergency, okay?o

oSure, pal.o

oAmber,o he hissed desperately into the door.

To his astonishment, it opened. At least as far as the chain barring it would allow it to open. Amber glowered up at him, looking none the less ferocious in her purple and black striped bathrobe and with a multitude of damp crimson curls framing her face. He imagined her that way on sleepy Sundays mornings after a night curled up before the fire in his house leisurely making love. Grayson promptly yanked his thoughts back to the present. If she only knew what heAEd been thinking ... But wasnAEt that what had started the whole mess? His failure to share his feelings for her.

oYou donAEt give up, do you,o she growled, yanking the robe tighter.

oI just want to talk to you for a moment,o he whispered, conscious of their audience. oI promise I wonAEt come further than your front hall.o

oSo talk.o

He glanced behind him. oCouldnAEt we talk about this inside?o

oYouAEve got to be kidding.o

oEverything okay, Amber?o called the guy from across the hall.

She looked crossly up at him through the crack in the door, then her gaze shifted to her neighbor. oYeah, Chris, everythingAEs okay. Nothing I canAEt handle.o

AmberAEs neighbor gave him a long warning glare. oBetter behave yourself, buddy,o he said, then mercifully shut his door.

She was still staring up at him, gray eyes hard as stone.

oI came to apologize,o he said softly. oFor my clumsiness, and for RogerAEs interference.o

oI certainly hope so.o She shut the door, and he could hear the chain sliding free. She opened the door wide enough for him to step through, then closed it behind him. oOkay, letAEs hear it.o

Standing face to face with her in the intimacy of her apartment, the eloquent words heAEd planned to say to her escaped him once again. Grayson opened his mouth, no sound came out. He tried again.

oAmber, I know it sounds crazy, but Roger really was trying to help.o

oStop making excuses for him.

oBelieve me, right now IAEd like to strangle him slowly. ItAEs hard to believe, but he had the best of intentions.o

oI canAEt see how.o

Grayson heaved a deep sigh. oHe thought I was messing things up between us by not telling you how I felt ... about you.o

oAnd how do you feel?o

oI donAEt know.o Truth helped the words flow smoothly. oIAEve never felt this way about anyone else before.o

His confession caught her off guard. Her face softened a little, but her eyes still watched him warily. oYou still havenAEt told me what that means.o

oIt means that when IAEm with you, I forget about everything else. It means I want to spend a lot more time with you.o He reached for her, setting his hands lightly on her shoulders. To his surprise, she didnAEt pull away. Beneath the thick material of her robe, her skin was warm from her shower. oIt means that even though weAEve only known each other for a short period of time, my life feels empty when youAEre not there,o he finished softly.

Gray eyes searched his face. He couldnAEt imagine a more thorough lie detector. oIsnAEt that kind of a change of heart, Counselor, considering you sued me to get that wonderful insightful help?o

He winced at the sarcasm in her voice. oHow I wish I hadnAEt done that.o

Her brows drew together, but mercifully she didnAEt pull away from him. oYou do?o

Grayson nodded. oI wish IAEd laughed the whole thing off and asked you out instead.o

oThat would have been a better end to the evening.o

oPerhaps we could start over.o

Hope lightened her expression. oPerhaps we could,o she said cautiously.

She was still in his arms, all warm and fuzzy in her robe, her hair smelling of coconut shampoo. He slid his hands over her shoulders and down her back, pulling her gently closer. Her hands slid over his upper arms, whether to pull him close or push him away he couldnAEt tell.

oHi, IAEm Grayson.o It sounded stupid to say it, but he wanted to make sure they got off on the right foot this time. oI like red wine, good food and playing squash. One day I hope to have enough money to buy a sailboat and enough free time to sail it.o He carefully left out any mention of his career, wanting her to know only him.

oSailing?o Tiny laugh lines bracketed the corners of her mouth. He hadnAEt noticed before. Likely because she spent most of her time scowling at him. oNow that I wouldnAEt have guessed. You just donAEt look like a sailor.o

oI look devastating in a pair of Dockers.o

Her rich laughter filled the hallway. oIs that so?o

oCome on,o he said tightening his arms around her. oYour turn.o

She stared at the ceiling, as if it had been a long time since sheAEd had to think about any of this. oHi, IAEm Amber,o she began slowly. oI like expensive champagne, the more expensive, the better, good company and good music. And some day, if I ever have the time or the money, IAEm going to learn to play piano.o

oPiano....o

oDonAEt you dare laugh at me, Counselor, or IAEll--o White fire burned in those gray eyes.

oIAEm not laughing,o Grayson said quickly. oItAEs romantic. IAEm ... charmed.o

oCharmed,o she repeated with a soft snort that said she didnAEt believe him at all.

oReally. IAEd never have imagined, but now that you mention it, I can picture you sitting at a black baby grand, a candelabra and a glass of Dom Perignon within armAEs reach.o Her embarrassment told him heAEd hit close to one of her fantasies. oAnd the more I think about it, you do have a musicianAEs passion.o

Watch out for the women with tempers, Roger was fond of saying. TheyAEre the most passionate. Actually, Roger had phrased it more crudely, but Grayson didnAEt think it wise to share either version with her.

oWhat would you play?o he asked, eager to keep her within the circle of his arms, in this rare, reflective mood.

oOh, everything!o She was beautiful with her face aglow with enthusiasm. oClassical, rock--o Then as if sheAEd just revealed a terrible secret, she stepped back out of his arms. oThis is silly, weAEre standing in my front hall and IAEma.o She looked down at her robe and the bare legs beneath it in embarrassment, oin my bathrobe.o

Reluctantly, Grayson let her go. He couldnAEt allow her to get away from him now. oI donAEt think itAEs silly. IAEve been enjoying our conversation more than any IAEve had in a long time.o

Again that suspicious, half-hopeful glance.

oYouAEre safe with me, Amber. No matter what youAEre wearing.o

oSafe.o Sarcasm added an edge to her tone. oIs a woman ever safe with a man?o

Amber folded her arms across her chest, defying him to argue with her. She was hurting, he realized suddenly. It wasnAEt just the clients or the time spent working with the dark side of love. Someone had hurt her deeply. The thought made him suddenly, irrationally angry. He wanted to track the guy down, settle it man to man. Exact revenge on AmberAEs behalf. That invisible lover stood between them now.

oWho was he?o Grayson asked softly.

oWhat?o

oThe man who hurt you so badly, who was he?o

oThere wasnAEt--o

oYes, there was. I can tell.o

oThere wasnAEt only one,o she snapped and walked away from him into her living room.

The inner sanctum wasnAEt anything like the offices of Fair Game, Grayson thought with a quick glance around. And yes, he had taken a drive over when he was sure she wouldnAEt be there, just before the building locked the doors for the night. No chrome, no leather, no glass adorned AmberAEs living room. A Victorian couch, buried under a mountain of cushions, sat before an old-fashioned wood burning fireplace. Grayson wasnAEt sure heAEd like to live in an old building in which each tenant had their own fireplace, but by the scattering of ashes on the tile in front, he could tell Amber used it often. Dark wood end tables with claw feet held antique lamps decorated with embossed cherubs. The room revealed a private side to Amber he hadnAEt known existed. ItAEs not as if you looked, he imagined RogerAEs mocking voice. And right you are about that, Little Brother. This time.

She stood in profile, staring out the window into the darkness, biting her lower lip, as if to stop herself from saying more. A flurry of leaves blew past the window, caught by the light from the street. He walked towards her, placed his hand lightly on her back, just in case she decided to move away from him.

oTell me about them, Amber.o

oStop cross-examining me!o she said, a plaintive plea as well as a command.

oIAEm not cross--o She escaped his hold. Grayson caught her again, turned her gently in his arms and looked down into her face. oI care about you, Amber. I care that youAEre hurting, I want to make it better.o

oAnd instead youAEve made it worse.o

He could hear the tears in her voice, and he knew sheAEd really hate him if he made her cry. oForgive me. IAEve really made a mess of this entire situation. IAEm--o He dropped his hands helplessly to his sides. oIAEm not very good at this.o

oWhat? A successful guy like you?o

oThey donAEt teach romance at law school.o

oIt shows.o

He winced at the knife in her words. oI tried to learn on my own, failed miserably and gave up. Roger,o he grimaced at the accidental mention of his brotherAEs name, osays I donAEt have the aptitude.o

oYouAEd probably do better if you kept your brother out of your affairs.o

oI never invited Roger into my affairs. But weAEre twins. And there isnAEt the division between us that there is between other siblings. His intentions are good, really Amber. He thinks youAEre wonderful, and that IAEm a fool for not noticing.o

oI agree with the fool part.o

oIAEm trying to make up for it, retroactively.o His head dipped closer to hers, his lips stopping mere inches from hers. oLet me make it better, Amber, in my foolish, bumbling way.o

****

And she did so want him to make it better. But dare she trust him? Eric, her father, the men who professed to love her, had something completely different from love in mind. What ulterior motives lay in GraysonAEs mind?

His fingers laced through her still damp curls. Those full sensuous lips drifted closer. Whatever his motives, she wanted him desperately, she realized. More than sheAEd wanted anything before.

oForgive me, Amber,o he whispered, his lips moving against hers like the brush of a feather. oFor the lawsuit....o

Warm lips touched hers.

oFor my stupiditya.o

Amber tipped her head back, catching his kiss with her own. Her hands flowed up over the roughness of his sweater, across his muscled shoulders and down his back, pulling him against her.

oFor my crazy twin brothera.o Grayson continued, his breath mingling with hers.

Anything! Pressed hard against him, heat rushed through her. Amber felt her defenses dropping. Her body refused to deny her attraction to him.

oFor my clumsiness....o he said softly.

Warm hands kneaded her shoulders, moving down her back to her hips, cupping her bottom, pressing her against him. She felt the evidence of his arousal, his body primed as readily as hers. For the inevitability of their attraction.

oYouAEre asking an awful lot, Counselor.o

oIAEm worth the risk,o he said, sounding for a second just like his self-assured twin.

Amber would have pulled away from him, but for the pressure of his arms around her.

oTrust me, just this once. I promise, you wonAEt regret it.o

His mouth devoured the rest of her protests.

oThis is an unfair way to win your case.o AmberAEs lips sampled the stubbled line of his jaw, the strong column of his throat.

oIAEm a desperate man.o

oReally, Counselor. IAEd never have guessed.o

oWhen IAEm with youa.o he paused, brushing his lips over the hollow in her throat, her collar bone, dipping lower to taste the dusky shadow of her cleavage. oIAEm reduced to helplessness.o

Amber linked her hands behind his head, drawing him closer. His mouth was fire against her skin. She gasped as he pushed the cloth of her robe aside and kissed the swell of her breast. Her troubles drifted away along with conscious thoughts of her business, Roger, her doubts about Grayson. The dance of their bodies against each other had a rightness to it that rang true. A surety this was meant to be.

And she meant to have Grayson Charles. Whether sheAEd regret it tomorrow, or not.

His breath seared a path from her neck down over the mound of one breast. She gasped as he took the hardened peak into his mouth. Sure sheAEd die as he left and moved to taste the other, Amber arched against him.

Suddenly, the torture of his mouth disappeared. She stumbled forward, and he caught her, taking her with him as he moved toward the cold fireplace. Inside lay one of those pressed-wood logs sheAEd bought at the supermarket. He added some newspaper from the wicker basket by the side of the fireplace. Flame reflected in his dark eyes as the paper caught the match he held out. He watched, satisfied as the flame leapt higher, catching the wood. And then his arms were back around her, crushing her to him, making her forget everything except the dark gleam of his eyes above her.

oI never learned to dance,o he said, so softly she wasnAEt sure sheAEd heard him. His palms pushed her robe lower, exposing her shoulders. His hips moved against hers, his mouth brushed her ribcage, moving lower. oBut you lend me grace, Amber.o

Her hands found the hem of his sweater and tugged, getting it stuck on the barrier of his shoulders. oI want to touch you,o she said desperately.

He chuckled, reaching down to cover her trembling fingers, and pulled it free. Her hands spread over the smooth expanse of his chest, curling in the rough patch of dark hair in the center.

Grayson reached behind him, grasping the thick weight of the duvet folded on the end of the couch. He spread the thick, down-stuffed quilt on the rug before the fire, and pulled her gently down to face him.

He brushed a crimson curl from her shoulder, then his fingers trailed down to loosen the sash of her robe. His actions made her feel suddenly vulnerable, and she moved to cover herself, but he caught her hands.

oLet me see your beauty, Amber,o he whispered, banishing her fears with another feather-soft sweep of his mouth.

Her hands molded to his ribcage, drifting lower to tug at his belt, finally getting it loose. She slipped a slim hand between his pants and his hot skin, feeling the heat of him.

Grayson pushed her backward into the softness of the quilt. His tongue explored the contours of her body, mapping every hill and valley. He savored every inch of her, down past her waist, past the barrier of her robe, to the soft cluster of curls at her very center.

Her hands fumbled with the zipper of his pants, pushing them down past his slim hips, until he grew frustrated as well and kicked them aside.

He settled his muscular weight atop her, kissing her slowly, from head, to her breast, then slithering down to taste the sweetness at her center. She moaned as his tongue found the heart of her desire. Amber tipped her head back, smothering another moan wrenched from her very soul. She felt the warm puff of his laughter at the effect his caress had upon her. oOh God,o she begged, odonAEt stop!o

oRelax,o he said gently, tantalizing her with more of that languid kiss.

Relaxation was the last thing on her mind as she bucked against him, demanding more of his caress. Sweat beaded upon her forehead and trickled between her breasts. She should be embarrassed, perhaps tomorrow she would be, but right now all she felt was the fire that burned in the hearth beside them and the consuming flame inside.

Fulfillment hit like a shower of fireworks. Her fingers curled in his hair, yanking his head closer. He complied willingly. She felt the curve of his smile against her thighs as her passion subsided into rough sobs for breath. His hardness pressed against her as he reached up to kiss her deeply, thoroughly. Tasting herself on his mouth, she parted her thighs.

oI want to feel you.o Dare she ask for what she desperately desired? oInside me,o she finished in a tiny voice.

He stopped, gazing hungrily down at her in agonized desire. oAmber,o he began roughly, oI donAEt have anything with me. I didnAEt plan this, and I want to protect you.o

oWait.o Her voice came out shockingly husky. Slithering out from under him, she raced to the closet and the little basket of green and red condoms her best friend had given her for Christmas. An invitation back into the world of dating, Maureen had said. Only Maureen knew how deeply Eric hurt her. It sat forgotten in her closet for ten months. Amber had almost thrown it out several times.

Grayson raised an eyebrow when she brought the basket back to him and she felt like a complete fool for not discreetly taking out one of the little packets before.

oIt was a gift,o she said a defensively. oFrom my girlfriend. I guess she was trying to tell me to get a life.o

oI like this friend of yours already,o he murmured appreciatively, putting her at ease. oWould you prefer cherry or mint?o

oMint.o She reached for the green slip of latex. He closed his eyes in pleasure as her small hand closed around him. Then he was reaching for her again, pushing her back into the softness of the comforter.

oMerry Christmas,o he whispered.

She felt him poised at her moist opening. Laying back, she wrapped her legs around his hips and took him inside.

oAmber....o He moaned her name. Dark lashes fluttering against her cheek as he savored the depths of her.

oGray--o The rest of his name was smothered against his shoulder, as her hands roved over his shoulders and down the corded length of his back, finally cupping the taut roundness of his buttocks, taking him deeper.

His long slow movements stoked the fire higher, as they moved together in a dance as old as time. Skin touched skin, every muscled inch of him pressed against her, and the beautiful torture of the feel of him inside. Soft hairs of his chest teased the tips of her nipples to hardened nubs, even as his muscular thighs moved erotically between hers. He quickened the pace, driving deeper, faster with gentle, yet purposeful thrusts. Another wave of fulfillment beckoned from the crest of the hill she was scaling. She tipped her hips, rising to meet him, demanding more of this strange sensation of utter rightness.

That thought froze her in stride. What was it Eric had always said? That she was as responsive as a block of ice.

oWhatAEs wrong?o he asked gently. No demand, no disappointment in his voice, only concern for her.

Amber tipped her head back, looking up into the dark depths of his desire. The desire he was willing to put on hold out of compassion. oIAEm not sure that I can ... again ... I mean I usually donAEt--o

His mouth covered hers, hot and demanding, teasing her with flicks of his tongue which mirrored his other movements. oTrust me,o he said, pulling his mouth away to nibble seductively at her lower lip.

Again that word, spoken so softly, so sincerely, she had no choice but to obey. But even as his words coaxed her, his body demanded, and she felt her desire soar despite her reservations. Nothing had ever felt like this, so good, so certain in its promise of ecstasy, so....

The intensity of it stole her breath. Distantly she heard herself moan his name, heard his own hoarse cry. Sparks exploded behind her eyelids, leading her down into darkness and warmth. She sighed deeply against his chest. Grayson shifted away from her long enough to grasp the corner of the duvet draw it up around them.

Warm breath ruffled the top of her curls. Laughter rumbled through his chest. oI take it IAEm forgiven?o

She smiled up at him drowsily, only then becoming aware they were lying wrapped in her quilt on the living room floor. oMostly.o Her daring tone covered her growing embarrassment.

oMostly!o There was real panic in those dark eyes. oWhat do I have to do for an encore?o

The prospect of more sent another rush of scarlet to her cheeks. oIAEm sure youAEll think of something.o

oIAEll give it my undivided attention.o His smile dissolved into seriousness. oLet me into your life Amber--o His thumb traced the line of her heart-shaped face. oI think youAEre wonderful.o

oYouAEre already in my life.o Amber offered him a wan smile. oYou and the rest of your crazy family.o

Grayson fell silent for a moment as if he wasnAEt sure how to handle the mention of the touchy subject of Roger. And then another wave of laughter burst from his throat. oRoger must really have thought you were special. He cut his hair for you. HeAEs been cultivating that famous head of hair since he was a teenager.o

oYouAEre kidding!o

oHonestly. WouldnAEt cut it for his graduation. Not even for DadAEs funeral.o

oShould I be honored?o

He frowned. oFrom Roger thatAEs a backward kind of compliment.o His mouth covered hers, kissing her deeply, thoroughly. oBut I am honored,o he said softly.

This wasnAEt the kind of end to the evening that sheAEd been contemplating. She started with the conviction to murder the Charles twins, especially Roger. Life was strange, Amber reflected, pillowing her head against his shoulder.

oSo,o Grayson said. His deep voice rumbled through his chest, tickling her ear. oShould we try cherry?o

Chapter EIGHT

oShe fired him!o

Jennifer nodded. A feral grin broke across her face. Triumph gleamed in that expression. oThe ultimatum came down from her boss. I guess word of their entanglement got around. He didnAEt say as much, but it doesnAEt take a genius to figure it out. What a fool. Apparently she didnAEt love him enough to sacrifice her career for him.o

Amber swallowed past the lump in her stomach. oApparently not.o She already knew what was coming next. No need now to exact revenge. Fate had dealt quite effectively with Apartment Four. oI suppose thatAEs why he called in sick on Friday,o she said noncommittally.

oSick with humiliation is more like it. Got himself a large taste of his own medicine.o

oHe got what was coming to him, IAEd say.o

oAnd he calls me for sympathy!o JenniferAEs voice rose in amazement. oCan you believe it?o

oI can.o The way things were going, sheAEd believe almost anything. A UFO could land on her desk and scarcely cause her to blink. oAre you going to take him back?o

oMaybe. When I finish torturing him.o Again that predatory smile. Jennifer looked more like an indignant wolverine than the pixie Amber had first taken her for.

Amber sighed deeply, watching the deluxe package and the companyAEs financial health fly out the proverbial window. CouldnAEt Fate have waited another day to deal Apartment Four the final blow? Surely two lessons would be better than one. For the sake of his soul, of course.

oDoes he know you know about his involvement with his boss?o

oNo.o Jennifer smiled daggers. oIAEm saving that particular morsel of information for future use.o

oBut you donAEt have the proof you wanted.o The proof that was supposed to be the deluxe package and the monthAEs rent.

oNo, but he knows heAEs guilty. If he denies it, heAEs history.o

oI suppose itAEs a good test of his integrity, if nothing else.o Nothing else was exactly it.

oHeAEs going to be jumping through a few hoops in the near future,o Jennifer said. She ran a hand through her short tousled curls. Her brown eyes sparkled with new life. A betrayed woman satisfied that justice had been served. Faith in the world had been restored. Amber knew the signs. She helped give that life back to those who were hurting. It kept her going during the tough times. Like the one coming.

oWhere does that leave us?o Amber asked carefully. There, the question was out, the inevitability already in action.

oCan we leave things as they stand? You can keep the advance. ItAEs worth it, just to see his true ilk.o

Worth it for whom? Amber thrust the self-pitying thought to the back of her mind. The advance wouldnAEt even cover the cost of the photographer and videographer. But she couldnAEt bill Jennifer for work that hadnAEt been done.

Fate was a man, she decided bitterly. Who else would have such abominable timing?

oSure,o she said forcing a smile. None of this was JenniferAEs fault. The woman had been through enough already. oFine.o

oGood.o Jennifer jumped lightly to her feet. Instead of the muted browns sheAEd been wearing at their last meeting, this time she wore leather boots that reached past her knees, a black mini and a flaming red blouse. She looked wonderful.

Ah, confidence. Amber banished her regret. Seeing Jennifer restored lifted her spirit.

oIAEll be sure to give you a call if I ever need you again,o she said brightly, reaching for the door handle.

oFeel free to pass my card around to any of your friends.o Word of mouth and repeat business kept the bailiff from the door.

Amber sank back into her chair. oThe best laid plans....o

Wasted weeks, wasted money. Where had this streak of bad luck come from? Recent events between Amber and Grayson indicated her luck was about to change. For the first time Amber looked forward to her nightly stint at Grayson and Charles.

After their fight in the dance club, and their passionate reconciliation later at her apartment, her love life looked a good deal brighter. TheyAEd lingered over brunch at her apartment courtesy of Grayson. Gourmet didnAEt come close to describing his cooking. The taste of feather-light chocolate crepes lingered on her tongue. Even if her kitchen looked like a bomb hit it. His scent lingered on her bed sheets. An afternoon walk through the last yellow leaves of late fall had done wonders to lift the feeling of doom lingering over the past few weeks.

And then there was GraysonAEs offer of contract work. An attractive offer, more attractive considering what had happened since Saturday night. A more sinister thought occurred to her. Where exactly was Grayson getting the money to hire her, when the accounts sheAEd seen on that first night indicated Barlow & Charles rode a fine line between solvency and bankruptcy court?

Amber shook off the seductive call of paranoia. Grayson surely knew what he was doing. She glanced at the clock on her desk. Half an hour left. And a million niggly administrative tasks to be accomplished. She couldnAEt stop the smile breaking across her face. Desk work could wait until tomorrow. Tonight sheAEd tell Grayson sheAEd take him up on his offer of contract work. That would solve the money crunch. The bottom line would be in the black. And she would have more time with Grayson. No time like the present. SheAEd show up early and get started on that contract work tonight.

****

Grayson was standing at NicoleAEs desk juggling three ringing telephone lines as Amber entered. He winked at her, letting her know heAEd be with her as soon as he got things under control.

Finally, exasperated, he put all lines on hold. Grasping her by the waist, he dipped her low and kissed her thoroughly. oYouAEre early.o

oNice to see you, too.o

oI didnAEt say I was dissatisfied with the prospect.o

oGood. Because youAEre about to get a whole lot more of my company.o

oTo what do I owe this wondrous change in fate?o

Amber felt a pang of foolishness and dismissed it, hoping he hadnAEt forgotten that heAEd asked her work for her. oIAEve decided to take you up on your offer of contract work.o

His cheeks dimpled as he smiled. He hadnAEt forgotten, she thought with relief.

oThatAEs great news. I donAEt know what I would have done if youAEd said no.o

oYouAEd have suffered terribly.o

oIAEve been suffering since we parted yesterday. This office is empty without you, Amber.o

oYou came in on Sunday night?o

oHad to, more developments in the Tirelli case.o

He shot a guilty glance at the blinking lines on NicoleAEs phone. oLet me get rid of these calls and then weAEll talk.o He looked back at her as if he was truly torn, then motioned to the lights that blinked like a demented traffic light. oI need the notes in my office. Do you think you could--?o

oGo on,o she said, reaching for the phone. oBarlow & Charles.o He was still gazing at her wistfully. She waved him off down the hall. oJust a moment, IAEll put you through.o

Half an hour later, the last red light on GraysonAEs line winked out. Amber crept down the hall. Sprawled in his chair, his shirt sleeves stuffed over his elbows again, he looked positively beat.

oBad day?o

oIt never ends,o he said tiredly. oBut it looks like my day is about to get better.o

oTechnically, itAEs evening,o she said, coming around the side of the desk.

He pulled her down into the chair on top of him and ran his hand appreciatively up over one stockinged calf, slithering scandalously higher. oAll the better.o

oGrayson! WeAEre in your office!o

Grayson smothered her protests with his hot demanding mouth. oThatAEs what this office needs, a scandalous romance.o He laughed. oAnd itAEs not going to be Barlow.o

And when she returned his kiss stiffly, he nibbled her lower lip, breathing huskily, oRelax, Amber. WeAEre alone.o

A sharp cough from the doorway brought their heads up in a single motion.

Barlow stood in the doorway. His eyes raked over them, separating them with a single glance. Amber sprang from GraysonAEs lap. Snatching up one of the file folders, on his desk, she tried to slide past Barlow.

oExcuse me.o Earnestly, she wished her voice didnAEt sound so breathless.

Barlow shot her a look of utter disdain. Turning his body, he blocked the exit so she couldnAEt help but brush up against him as she left. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Grayson vainly trying to straighten the wrinkles sheAEd left in his pants.

oIf youAEve finished with your recreational activities,o she heard Barlow growl as she fled down the hall, oI have business to discuss.o

She didnAEt catch GraysonAEs reply, but the door to his office was closed for a very long time. Finally, the door to GraysonAEs office flew open and heavy footsteps thudded along the carpeted hall. Amber looked up just in time to catch the ugly expression he launched in her direction. His departure ruffled the papers on the desk. The door slammed shut, plunging the office into silence. She crept back down the hall.

Grayson sat hunched over the papers on his desk. A green accountantAEs lamp cast an oval of gold light, illuminating his hands and arms, leaving his expression in shadow.

oWhatAEs with Barlow?o

He leaned back in his chair. Shadow darkened his expression. oWho knows,o he said wearily. oBut somethingAEs eating him. HeAEs been acting weird for some time now.o

oDidnAEt seem too happy about the improvement in your love life.o

oNo.o Even in the shadows, she could see the gleam of his smile. oBut I am.o He held out his hand to her, and she came closer. oIs he gone?o

oYou mean you didnAEt hear the hurricane that blew through the office?o Amber sat on the corner of his desk. Should she share the nagging worry that had haunted her since she came to Barlow & Charles? oGrayson thereAEs something IAEve been meaning to tell you...o

oNot you too!o He held up a hand for mercy. oEveryone has something they want to tell me today. Grayson glanced suspiciously at the phone as if he expected it to ring at any second with more bad news. oNext RogerAEs going to call to tell me why heAEs breaking up with....o He looked up bashfully, realizing just what heAEd been about to say. oWhat is it, Amber?o

oThe first night I was here, when there were files all over the office....o Stalling, she knew it. One eyebrow raised, he waited for her to continue. oWell, I found something,o she blurted.

oAnd?o

oThey were in BarlowAEs office. I shouldnAEt have been snooping, but I think you ought to knowa.o

oKnow what!o he said, becoming impatient at her halting confession.

oThere are papers in BarlowAEs filing cabinet that offer the sale of Barlow & Charles to another firm.o

Grayson let go his breath in a rush. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her closer. oAmber, you really have been working too hard.o

oIAEm serious, Grayson.o

oHe canAEt do that. I own half the company.o

oListen to me.o Damn, the man was dense. SheAEd just blurted out something that had troubled her for most of a month and he brushed it off like lint on his suit. oI think thatAEs why BarlowAEs been so antagonistic to me. ThatAEs why he was so mad when he returned and found out a PI had been working in his office. ThereAEs something he desperately doesnAEt want you to know about around here. And I think thatAEs it.o

oAmber--o

oWhy else would he be so angry to see us together? ItAEs after hours. And who cares if we like each other?o

oPerhaps he considers our liaison unprofessional considering how we met.o

oWhy should he care?o

oI donAEt know, Amber. This is crazy.o

oIs it?o she asked quietly. oYou just said heAEd been acting crazy.o

oOkay.o He rose from behind the desk. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her down the hall to BarlowAEs office. oLetAEs have a look at those papers.o

The fluorescent light contrasted starkly with the soft shadows in GraysonAEs office. Inside BarlowAEs domain was as obsessively neat as the last time sheAEd seen it.

oThat cabinet right there,o Amber said, pointing to the big filing cabinet behind BarlowAEs desk.

With a resigned sigh, Grayson rounded the desk and gave the handle a tug. It slid open a fraction of an inch, then stopped with a thud.

oLocked.o SheAEd known it would be.

oIAEve got to find that extra key in my office,o Grayson said, as if heAEd been expecting as much.

She dogged his footsteps back down the hall and peered over his shoulder as he slid open his top drawer. Reaching for one of the little compartments for pens and staples, his hand came up empty.

oIt was there last I looked.o He rummaged around in the drawer.

oBarlow took it. IAEd bet on it.o

oAmber--o he said in a tone that betrayed heAEd come to the end of his patience. oThis means nothing. Nicole could have borrowed it.o

oThere arenAEt any keys in my desk.o When had she started thinking of it as her desk, she wondered. But Grayson hadnAEt noticed her slip of the tongue.

oIt still proves nothing. And even if it did, John canAEt merge the company without my say so. WeAEre partners in this firm. He asked me to be his partner.o

She turned, leaning her head against his broad chest. oI know you think IAEm crazy, but I think heAEs behind the nasty little things that have been happening to me.o

oWhat things?o She could sense the tension in him, thought his tone was neutral.

oThe flat tire. The writing on my car. The mouse in the drawer. I think BarlowAEs trying to scare me off, to get rid of me before I find out something he doesnAEt want me to know.o

oNow that is ludicrous.o

oIt was a new tire,o she insisted.

oYou could have run over a nail on the highway.o

oWhat about the mouse?o

oOne of the alley cats probably got to it.o

oAnd I suppose one of the cats wrote on my car and I hallucinated the papers I thought I saw.o

GraysonAEs expression gave her the answer. oForget about it, Amber. IAEm a big boy. I can take care of myself. John and I have worked together for several years now. WeAEre not terribly compatible in our personalities or our ages, but weAEve managed to run the firm well, so far.o

oBut youAEll check it out?o

oIAEll check it out,o he said, dipping his head to brush her lips lightly with his.

He was lying, she thought, even as she returned his kiss.

oCome home with me, Amber,o Grayson whispered. oWeAEve had enough excitement for one day.o **** oFor a townhouse close to downtown, weAEve been driving a long time.o oI can usually make it in forty minutes, once the rush hour traffic has cleared.o Amber studied GraysonAEs face under the strobing flash of the streetlights. oItAEs not a townhouse close to downtown, I take it.o oYou said that, not me. I didnAEt want to ruin your carefully thought out profile of me.o oIAEve had to adjust my profile several times,o she said. Truly, there seemed no end to the surprises that added up to Grayson Charles.

Gravel crunched beneath the MercedesAE tires. They turned off the highway onto a long winding road. Amber stared into the shadows, her jaw dropping slowly open as the car rolled to a stop. oThis is it?o

oWelcome to my humble abode.o He was enjoying her astonishment, she could tell.

Humble didnAEt begin to describe the rustic schoolhouse that rose out of the treed property. A line of poplars had been planted to mark the edge of the lot. Most of their leaves lay on the ground now, the bare branches standing like scrawny sentries.

Taking her hand, he led her up the flagstone walk and through the doorway with practiced sureness. oStay there,o he said, moving quietly through the darkened stone building.

A wrought iron chandelier hung over the huge wooden table at one end of the open room. She watched as he lit the white candles one by one, and the room blossomed into golden light. A pair of massive over-stuffed couches framed the fireplace. In an alcove off to one side stood an old fashioned roll-top desk. The laptop computer inside seemed out of place in the stone schoolhouse. Beyond the table she made out the shadow of an old-fashioned wood-burning stove. Dishes, pots and pans sat on open shelves. Above, in the shadows among the rafters, she could just make out a loft bedroom and the bulk of a king-sized bed. On the far side of the large room, two shadowed openings still proclaimed boys and girls in stone lettering above the threshold.

oThis is wonderful!o

oI was hoping youAEd think so.o The warmth of his hand pressed against the small of her back. oIAEll get some brandy to warm you while I make a fire.o

Not a townhouse. Not near the center of town. And practically nothing high tech in it. Amber couldnAEt stop the delighted chuckle from escaping. oCounselor, youAEre not what I expected at all.o

oI hope youAEre not disappointed,o he said pressing the brandy snifter into her hand.

Amber leaned back into the voluminous cushions. oNot at all.o

He spent the rest of the evening ensuring she wasnAEt.

****

A chorus of birds woke her as soon as the wan sun poked through the late October clouds. AmberAEs eyes snapped open, staring at the wooden rafters in the unfamiliar peaked ceiling. Someone stirred beside her. Someone warm, large and most definitely male.

oWhat time is it?o

Before she could answer, Grayson was across the floor, squinting at the alarm clock on the dresser wedged between the loft and the sloping ceiling. Drowsily, she admired the strong lines of his body, wanting nothing more than to reach out and pull him back beneath the covers. But back in town, Fair Game awaited her. Sleeping late wouldnAEt make her business problems vanish.

oIAEm late,o Grayson said curtly. Already she could see the to-do list compiling in his head. oHope trafficAEs not bad.o He stumbled toward the open staircase that led to the lower floor. Awareness hit him half way down. She waited, patiently, until his head poked above the floor line and he smiled sheepishly. He was across the floor in a second, leaning across the bed, his body hard and warm on top of hers.

oMorning.o He offered her a slow, thorough kiss. oI do wish I could stay here this morning with you. But IAEm already running late.o

oItAEs okay,o Amber said regretfully. oJust give me a ride back into town. IAEll take a cab back to my apartment before I go to the office. I donAEt have any appointments this morning, just a ton of desk work to do.o

He looked longingly at the slope of her breasts that disappeared beneath the covers. oLater?o

oLater. We still have the contract work to discuss.o

oThat,o he said, halfway back down the ladder. oAnd a whole lot more.o

oYouAEre on, Counselor.o

****

The day dragged by with agonizing slowness. With Apartment Four out of the way and the whole contract disintegrating, Amber found herself without much to do. Paper work took only half the morning. No credits needed to be entered in the companyAEs ledger. The stack of bills piling up in her in-basket would have to wait until Barlow & Charles paid her. Time to network, hand out business cards at parties, beg, borrow or steal business from the competition.

Problem was, the sleazy James Heck was her only competition. And Heck already nursed a grudge that sheAEd stolen one of his clients. Amber leaned back in her chair and eyed the silent phone. Not even a message on her voice mail. Time had come to consider a new specialty, perhaps even go back to school. She sighed. She hadnAEt had the money for university before, sheAEd never raise it now with another business going under.

Beyond her office windows, the sun broke through the clouds, scattering bars of sunlight across the gray carpet. Where had this ugly mood come from? She had GraysonAEs kind offer of contract work. SheAEd make the rent this month. And the next would be better.

Nothing to do in the office and a long walk would clear her head. Amber glanced at the clock on her desk. Four p.m. SheAEd walk over to Barlow & Charles, where sheAEd left her car parked. The exercise would do her good. Grabbing her purse and coat, she locked up the offices of Fair Game and strolled lightly off down the hallway.

****

Amber jumped in surprise, finding someone in the customarily empty waiting room of Barlow & Charles.

oOh, excuse me.o

oAmber?o

She blinked, taking a second, much longer look at the man sitting on the beige couch. HeAEd found a better barber since sheAEd seen him last, and a better tailor, but there was no mistaking the profile of James Heck. In the flesh. And minus his horn-rimmed glasses. Think of the Devil and he appears. oJames, what are you doing here?o

He shrugged. oDoing some work for Barlow. You?o

oDoing some work for Charles,o she snapped without meaning to.

His eyes drifted the length of her body. oYou look great, Amber.o

oThanks, James. You look ... better. Business must be good.o

oCanAEt complain. You?o

oCanAEt complain,o she repeated, nonchalantly. On the seat beside him was a bouquet of flowers and a card. Could it be that even a worm like James Heck had found love? That might explain the new suit and the much improved haircut.

Behind the closed door of BarlowAEs office, she heard the murmur of voices. Grayson and Barlow. They didnAEt sound angry with each other. Perhaps Grayson had been right. Maybe she was paranoid.

James got to his feet. Glancing at his watch, he paced slowly across the confines of the waiting room. oSay, Amber--o

She turned, hoping he wouldnAEt come any closer. And then he froze, blinking furiously.

oI think IAEve lost my contact lens.o

Contacts! He really must be in love.

oWhere?o Amber set her purse down. Tucking her skirt under her knees, she bent to scrutinize the carpet.

oI donAEt know. It couldnAEt have fallen too far away.o

He knelt on the floor beside her, much closer than she ever wanted to get to James Heck. oThere!o He pointed to a spot behind the desk, Amber reached to test the spot of carpet he indicated. oCan you feel it? ItAEs extended wear. Feels like of like plastic wrap, only wet.o

oMust have been the light,o she said tersely. oThereAEs nothing here except fluff.o

oYou sure?o He put his hand on her shoulder, peering at the piece of carpet before her. Amber suppressed the urge to shudder.

oPositive--o

The door to BarlowAEs office sprang open. As one, Amber and Heck jumped up from behind the desk. His hand, she noted, still rested on her back. It didnAEt feel like GraysonAEs hand, she reflected, not warm and wholesome. More like embracing a snake. Amber moved to shrug off his arm.

Instead, to her horror, HeckAEs face loomed suddenly before her. Amber shrank back, but the desk blocked her escape. Heck planted a cold, very wet kiss dead-center on her lips.

oThanks for the other day, Babe,o he said loudly.

Thrusting the bouquet of flowers into her arms, he disappeared with a grin through the door.

oYuck!o Amber let the carnations fall to the desktop. Wiping her hand reflexively across her mouth, she realized sheAEd just smeared lipstick across half her face. She looked up, meeting GraysonAEs dark gaze. The fury in his eyes was hot enough to burn through her and into the wall behind.

oYou want to tell me what that was all about?o

oYou tell me.o She spat the taste of James from her mouth. oHe said he was working for Barlow.o

Grayson turned his acid gaze on his partner. But the gray-haired Barlow only shrugged. oI know nothing about this. He certainly wasnAEt working for me.o Losing interest in their squabble, he turned back into his office and closed the door.

oArenAEt you going to open the card?o

It was easier to focus her attention on the card, than GraysonAEs face. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she slid her nail through the seal on the envelope. The card inside showed a piano keyboard sporting a blood-red rose. With a sick feeling, Amber flipped it open. Written in crimson ink were the words, oThanks Sweetheart, you were wonderful.o

oGrayson, itAEs obvious somethingAEs--o

oItAEs obvious we have nothing further to discuss,o Grayson said. He leveled a look full of dark pain at her, then whirled and strode down the hall to his office. The door slammed firmly shut behind him.

Chapter NINE

oShe dumped you?o

Grayson held the door open for Roger to walk through. He couldnAEt believe his brother had driven so far late at night. Roger hated the country.

oCindy dumped me. WeAEre finished, kaput.o He stopped just past the threshold and turned to look at Grayson who still held the door open in stunned silence. oDonAEt look so shocked. It was bound to happen once.o

oIt was?o Grayson shook himself from his own thoughts. A very different Roger stood in his entrance way. He didnAEt know what had changed, but burning curiosity demanded he find out. oSorry, I had a bad day, myself.o

For a moment he thought Roger would ask why, and then they could have brandy and commiserate jointly about the dangers of love and the mystifying creature known as woman. But Roger didnAEt ask, merely made his way uninvited to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a brandy, raising an empty snifter in question for Grayson.

Well, at least weAEll do the brandy thing, together. So much for male bonding. After the confusing events with Amber, he craved the straight!forward, hereAEs the goods, way that men talked to each other. The circuits of his brain practically smoked trying to unravel the intricacies of their relationship, trying to figure out where heAEd gone wrong, what vital clues heAEd overlooked. Like the fact that Amber was involved with another. So why did she want him so badly? And she did want him. Lust fell within the male domain. Physical desire he understood. She wanted him, no doubt about that. Or had she just wanted revenge?

Roger pressed the snifter into his hand. Grayson blinked, realizing Roger had been standing there for a few moments, while he stared glassy eyed into the fire.

oDonAEt you have anything to say?o

oWell, this is a first,o Grayson blurted flabbergasted, then winced. That wasnAEt what heAEd meant to say at all.

oThanks a bunch Big Brother. I figured you might have some advice, some condolences for me.o

Not the time to burden Roger with his own problems. oIAEm really sorry, Roger. oI--o Just broke up with Amber. No, he couldnAEt say that. Involved in the events of his own life, Roger couldnAEt have known heAEd gone to AmberAEs apartment Saturday night and that theyAEd spent the past few days so caught up in each other, he hadnAEt had a thought to spare for his brother. Roger didnAEt know that the romance he thought was off, had in fact been just as suddenly on and then off again, while heAEd been none the wiser.

But Roger, in true Roger form, just grunted his acceptance of GraysonAEs condolences, certain his brotherAEs support would be forthcoming. oWhat should I do now?o

oSurely, youAEre not asking me for advice in love!o The world just titled on its axis, Grayson thought. Nothing was quite as it had been. Nor as heAEd thought it was.

oYou donAEt have to sound so happy about it,o Roger snapped.

oIAEm not happy,o Grayson said earnestly, hoping his nose wouldnAEt grow. His brotherAEs misfortune saddened him. But misery loved company. Finally, something they could share. Except that in order to share in RogerAEs suffering, heAEd have to own up to the rest of it. AmberAEs betrayal cut so deeply, he couldnAEt even share the pain with his twin.

Roger flung himself down onto the couch opposite Grayson, his long legs stretching under the coffee table and well into GraysonAEs space. Acting out of old habit, Grayson kicked his feet aside. Roger didnAEt seem to notice. He took a large swig of brandy and swallowed hard.

oShe said I was shallow, immature. You donAEt think sheAEs right, do you, Gray?o

oRight about what? That youAEre immature?o Why was he having such a hard time keeping his mind on the conversation?

oNo, shallow,o Roger said, obviously annoyed that GraysonAEs thoughts kept wandering away from his emergency. oPay attention, Big Brother. IAEm spilling my guts here, just in case you hadnAEt noticed.o

No safe answer to that question, Grayson thought. Did he think Roger was shallow, immature? Of course he did. And the answer was undeniably yes to most of the other crimes Roger had been accused of. But Roger was also his brother. Deep beneath the crusty exterior was a good heart. He might be the only person in the world who recognized that.

oI donAEt think you view love with the same importance as most of the women you date do,o he said carefully.

oSo, IAEm a cad. You might as well come out and say it.o

oI didnAEt say that.o An argument with Roger was the last thing he needed tonight.

oItAEs the truth.o Roger swallowed the last of his brandy and rose to pour another. He reached for his brotherAEs glass, but Grayson shook his head. A hangover wouldnAEt improve the situation. It looked like Roger would be sleeping on his couch.

oIAEve really done it this time, havenAEt I?o

Grayson grunted in the affirmative. The silence that followed was so uncharacteristic of Roger that he stared at his brother in dismay.

ShoulderAEs slumped, Roger still wore his black leather trench coat, even though heAEd been sitting on the couch for more than fifteen minutes. Hunched over his brandy, he stared into its amber depths, as if he liquid contained the hidden solution to his problems. oWhat should I do now, Gray?o

Grayson wanted to grab Roger by the shoulders and shake him. How dare Roger march into his house and demand sympathy when Grayson intended on spending the evening wallowing in his own misery? But Roger looked so completely helpless, so strangely sincere for once. CindyAEs rejection shook him to the core. He could tell that much. And if Grayson didnAEt offer him any words of wisdom, not that he had any to spare, likely no one would. And Roger would go on being, well ... Roger.

oFigure out what youAEre doing wrong,o Grayson said tiredly. oAsk Cindy for another chance. If that doesnAEt work, start fresh with someone else whoAEll appreciate the new and improved you.o

RogerAEs head came up. Sudden comprehension flickered in his dark eyes. He swirled the brandy in his glass and glanced shrewdly at Grayson. oWhy do I get the feeling it isnAEt Cindy and me weAEre discussing.o

oOh, no you donAEt,o Grayson said. So much for philanthropy.

oI get the feeling thereAEs another woman entirely in this equation.o

oThereAEs nothing left between Amber and me.o It felt strangely good to say it, to stomp on those lingering hopes. If only it didnAEt hurt so much.

oNo, I took care of that, didnAEt I? This time,o Roger said, softly oIAEve managed to mess up my relationship and yours! I ought to get a medal for stupidity.o

oDonAEt worry about it, Little Brother. I messed it up myself quite nicely.o Deciding another brandy wouldnAEt be such a bad idea after all, Grayson reached for the bottle Roger had brought back to the coffee table with him. Moisture made a circle beneath the bottle, but he didnAEt bother himself to rummage for a coaster. Confession burned on the tip of his tongue. He couldnAEt leave Roger to think heAEd been responsible for the catastrophe between Amber and himself. oThe other person in the equation is a man, not a woman.o

oAmberAEs seeing someone else!o

Oh right, Roger, take a blunt instrument to my pain. Why did his brother have to be so dense? oAnother PI. A greasy wimp of a guy. Not what youAEd expect.o

oThereAEs got to be a mistake. She wouldnAEt fall for that kind of guy.o

A mistake all right. The mistake was opening my mouth. My worst mistake was trusting another woman after ... oHow would you know?o

oSheAEs not the type.o

oYeah, well thatAEs what I thought. Apparently, weAEre both wrong.o

Roger set his snifter down on the coffee table and leaned forward. oI know you think IAEm a total washout when it comes to relationships, but really, Grayson, somethingAEs not right here.o

oWhatAEs not right is the small detail that sheAEs seeing someone else. Though why she didnAEt tell me that before wea.o He stopped suddenly. He didnAEt need any of RogerAEs salt in that wound.

His brother refused to listen to his protests. oI admit, IAEm not the best judge of character, but a woman with convictions as strong as Amber ShawAEs ... well, it just doesnAEt figure.o

oHe brought her flowers. And a card that said, aeThanks, Babe, you were wonderful!AEo Acid churned in GraysonAEs stomach at the thought.

oThat could mean anything,o Roger insisted.

oShe admitted she knew him.o

oSo she knows him. It doesnAEt mean she knows him in the Biblical sense.o

oThatAEs not funny, Roger.o

oAnd youAEve completely lost your sense of humor, Grayson.o

oShe tried to tell me he was working for Barlow, can you believe it?o

oMaybe sheAEs right.o

oSure. And IAEm a complete fool.o

oThink about it Gray. DidnAEt you say yourself not a couple of weeks ago that Barlow had been acting strange? Even for Barlow?o He leaned back into the cushions. Cocking his head to one side, he surveyed his brother and asked, oWhy are you so dead against suspecting Barlow instead of Amber?o

Just when he thought a little sympathy might be forthcoming, Roger did an about face. oSince when are you her champion?o Grayson said, annoyed.

oSince you became blind,o Roger shot back.

oEnough!o Grayson set the snifter down on the coffee table with more force than he intended. Golden liquid sloshed against the sides. The crystal rang out a loud ping. Luckily it didnAEt shatter. oLook--o He wrapped the last shreds of his composure around his rapidly escaping temper. oI know losing Cindy really shook up your world, but this is simply too paranoid. YouAEre starting to sound like Amber.o

oMaybe AmberAEs right,o Roger repeated and stubbornly set his jaw.

That was too scary to contemplate. Too frightening to admit that the man his father trusted, the man heAEd trusted enough to build a career with, might not be the man he thought he was. Too scary to forge ahead into uncharted territory with Amber after really getting burned last time. But Grayson didnAEt voice any of his thoughts. Roger already knew. Roger always did.

oNever mind my problems.o He deflected the conversation away from his brotherAEs prying mind. Roger came asking for advice. It was his failures in love they ought to be discussing. oWhat are you planning to do about Cindy?o

Roger let his eyelids drift closed, making himself comfortable, as if the offer to stay the night had already been extended. His brotherAEs hospitality was a given. Roger believed in Grayson without question.

Why canAEt I believe in myself?

oIAEm going to call Sandy,o Roger said sleepily.

****

James Heck would be a sorry man when she got hold of him. And John Barlow would regret he ever heard the name Amber Shaw when she was finished. Amber drummed her fingers on the desk. The office was empty, quiet as a tomb, her calendar a wasteland, except for those last few evenings at Barlow & Charles. Would Grayson even want her in the office after the stunt Barlow and Heck had pulled on her last night?

She ran the list of possible suspects through her mind. Barlow, instinct told her, the same intuition sheAEd relied on in so many other cases. She trusted it implicitly, and it never let her down. But intellect demanded a more objective review of the situation. And that left Grayson and Roger.

Could Grayson have hired Heck to get even with her? The idea lay like a bad taste in her mouth. But she had to admit it would be a fitting revenge for the incident with the ice. If it was revenge he wanted. She could have sworn what he wanted was love.

And that made her feel like one Heck of a fool.

So Grayson was a possibility, but not a possibility she liked much. And then there was Roger.

Roger certainly had reason to want to get even for what sheAEd come to think of as the ice incident. But Roger hadnAEt seemed angry. He found the whole event funny. In his back-handed complimenting kind of way, he was flattered that Sandy missed him enough to want revenge. Roger for all his irreverent, irresponsible ways, wasnAEt vindictive at heart.

No, the prank had BarlowAEs stamp all over it. Her revenge lay in finding the proof. Intuition told her the intertwining clues could be traced back to Barlow. No way would she let this one go. A dead mouse and a flat tire were unpleasant. But the scene in the office of Barlow & Charles had elevated things to a personal level. And James Heck just slid another notch lower in her estimation. Until last night she wouldnAEt have believed that possible.

A tap against the glass door wrenched her from her ruminations. A dark figure stood in silhouette against the glass. Amber got up cautiously. Last time someone appeared unannounced at her door he was bearing a subpoena to appear in court.

Pity the messenger this time, she thought darkly.

The man at the door was well dressed. Not ostentatiously so. A lock of sandy brown hair fell across his eyes. He brushed it out of the way, as she opened the door.

oMs. Shaw?o

He wasnAEt carrying a registered letter. No briefcase or portfolio. DidnAEt look like he was selling anything, either. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of a voluminous wool overcoat. She caught a glimpse of ice blue eyes as his gaze drifted up to meet hers from where heAEd been staring at a patch of carpet on the floor.

oIAEm Amber Shaw.o Might as well admit to it. If he was carrying another court order, heAEd find her soon enough.

oIAEm sorry to drop by without an appointment. ItAEs not something I wanted to discuss on the phone, but I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time.o He pulled a crumpled copy of her business card from his pocket. oSandy Wylde told me I could find you here.o

Amber glanced at her name on the rumpled parchment, then back at the unexpected and unexpectedly male client. They were still standing in the doorway, she realized with a start. oCertainly, come in, Mr.--?o

oMarchand.o He offered her his hand. oJean-Claude Marchand.o

Hunched in the chrome and leather chair, he looked out of place in the sleek office. The chairs that made clients like Sandy Wylde appear all the more elegant were too small for a male frame. The thin arm rests werenAEt wide enough for muscular arms to rest upon comfortably. The width of the chair that allowed for a pair of female legs to be gracefully crossed was all wrong for traditional male posture. She watched Marchand fidget to get comfortable, then give up. He settled for hunching awkwardly in the chair and gazing across the desk at her looking every bit as uncomfortable as he undoubtedly felt.

Taking one of her preprinted forms from her top drawer, Amber steepled her fingers on the glass and gazed across her desk at him. oWhat can I do for you, Mr. Marchand?o

oSandy tells me you have some rather unusual business practices that might be of use to me.o

oI deal in revenge,o Amber said. oRevenge isnAEt an unusual phenomenon in itself. I merely make sure that justice is accomplished. And that no one gets hurt.o

oJustice is what I came to discuss.o

Amber reached for her pen. oAnd who exactly would you be seeking justice from?o

oFrom my ex-fiancTe, Ruth.o

Ruth, Amber scribbled in the appropriate box. oWhat crime has Ruth committed?o

oShe left me!o Marchand said, suddenly becoming animated. oI gave her everything--the one-carat engagement ring she wanted so badly. Cost me two months pay. I bought her a house, leased a new car. I gave her everything and she left me for some slimy guy named Dave.o

oIAEve witnessed this phenomenon before,o Amber said in her most soothing professional tone. And she had, first hand. But until now all the perpetrators had been male.

oShe stood me up at the altar.o

Memories of pain keen as knife tore through her. Even after two years, she could still remember the pain-tinged shame of EricAEs abandonment. The loss of the dream hurt the most. The brutal reality that the man sheAEd given her love to her didnAEt love her at all. Eric left the month before their wedding date, leaving her with mounting debts for the non!refundable deposits to the banquet hall, the caterer and the photographer sheAEd retained. Not to mention the silk wedding dress that still hung in her closet.

oIAEm so sorry,o she said softly, losing for a moment the professional detachment sheAEd learned to rely on. What Marchand had gone through was so much worse. Glancing away from those pain-filled eyes, she jotted down a few more notes. oTell me a bit about RuthAEs habits so we can determine what kind of revenge would be fitting. She doesnAEt happen to have an identical twin, does she?o

oNo....o

Amber ignored his confusion. She wouldnAEt be caught on that technicality again. oA sister that might resemble her closely?o

oShe has three brothers,o Marchand said.

oGood.o Amber leaned back in her chair. Schemes formed in her mind and were just as quickly rejected. Accepting a male client would require a major attitude adjustment. Her entire repertoire of revenge was slanted towards the male of the species.

One shrewd look at Marchand convinced her. She recognized his pain. The shadows beneath his eyes from nights spent wondering what went wrong. Rejection of your intimate self caused the shoulders to slump, the eyes to shine less bright, the whole world to lose some of its color and joy. Amber remembered when sheAEd looked that way. It wasnAEt that long ago. Only building up Fair Game had helped. Having one thing that was truly hers, that couldnAEt be lost on the whim of a man brought her soul back to her. She had to help Marchand bring closure to his pain, so he could have his life back as well.

Fidgeting in the under-sized chair, he waited. Amber let the momentum of her reclining desk chair swing her upright. oLetAEs talk about the details of your revenge.o ****

A battered Trans Am sat like a blemish before the offices of Barlow & Charles. Brown splotches of primer marred the paint job that had once been silver. Amber had to look carefully to tell what color the car had been in its distant youth. Someone had made a half-hearted effort at painting the car with a series of not-quite matching aerosol spray cans. Amber grit her teeth. It did figure that James HeckAEs car was a shabby as he was.

Probably inside collecting his check from Barlow at my expense. The thought rolled around in her mind and came up opportunity.

No mistaking the man who paced the narrow scrap of carpet before the elevator. No one else wore that much gel in his hair. No one else couldnAEt wait the short moments it took the elevator to come. Steeling herself for another encounter with James, Amber sauntered up beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He jumped, whirling around as suddenly as if she had a gun pressed between his shoulder blades. oUh, hi, Amber.o

oHi, James.o

Heck coughed. The doors slid open and he jumped for the sanctuary of the elevator like a man fleeing a sinking ship. His salvation was short lived. Amber slid between the closing doors to take her place beside him.

A white piece of paper fluttered in his hand as he restrained himself from pacing in the narrow confines of the elevator. An invoice, Amber thought darkly. Hope heAEs getting well paid to make me miserable. She nodded at the paper in his hand.

oOn your way to get paid?o she asked pleasantly.

oYeah.o Heck folded the paper into quarters so she wouldnAEt see what was written on it. Silence stood like a third person between them, broken only by the whir of the elevatorAEs fan.

oSo, uh, Amber--o James fidgeted, coughed again. oNo hard feelings about last night?o he finally choked out.

oOf course not.o

HeckAEs eyes widened. She hoped he wouldnAEt lose another contact. oWhy not?o

AmberAEs fingers closed around his leather tie and pulled him closer. oBecause youAEre going to do me a favor, James.o

oWhat kind of favor?o

oYouAEre going to give me a copy of that invoice before you hand it in to Barlow.o

oI canAEt do that!o

oYou can do anything you want to, James.o

oWell I donAEt--o

oIAEd be willing to pay you for my ... gratitude.o The thought made her ill, but it was the only foreseeable means to an end.

oSorry, but I canAEt--o Heck began, then, oHow much?o

oAn even hundred.o

oSorry, Amber, but I promised Barlow the details of this assignment would be confidential.o

IAEll bet you did. It was a generous offer. DonAEt tell me even James Heck has developed standards. She couldnAEt afford much more, but she wanted that invoice beyond the bounds of good sense. She wanted Grayson Charles.

oTwo hundred,o she said coolly.

For a moment, she thought heAEd refuse again. The elevator doors slid open.

oOkay, deal.o He held out his hand to shake. Amber plucked the invoice from his other fist.

oIAEll send you a check,o she said and strode off down the hallway to the offices of Barlow & Charles.

Amber froze, her hand on the door handle. Grayson Charles was on the other side of that door, along with everything else that meant. He hadnAEt called to cancel her last couple of nights at the firm. She took that to mean he intended for her to finish her sentence as ordered. Would he pretend nothing had happened and go back to the cool efficiency heAEd shown her a month ago. Beneath that crisp exterior lay a molten core of passion. She knew that now. Would he turn that passion to anger and focus it upon her?

Amber heard HeckAEs footsteps on the carpet behind her. Now was not the time for second thoughts. If she wanted a Xerox of that invoice, she had to get it now before Barlow intercepted Heck. She turned the handle.

The doors to both partnerAEs offices were mercifully closed. Amber unfolded HeckAEs invoice, laid it on the Xerox and watched distractedly as bars of light swept across the glass plate. She refolded the invoice, handed it back to Heck. He looked like a little boy presenting his mother with a well-graded homework assignment. She suppressed the urge to laugh out loud.

Snatching the copy from the output tray, she stuffed it in her purse. Heck looked hesitantly around the corner, but the doors to both offices remained closed. Relieved he followed Amber back to reception where he milled about aimlessly as if he didnAEt know what to do now.

Taking pity on him, Amber crossed the carpet and rapped on BarlowAEs door. It flew open beneath her hand. Barlow looked infinitely displeased to see her. If I can put up with you for another day, you can certainly put up with me, J. B. But instead, she said coldly, oMr. Heck is here to see you, Mr. Barlow.o

As if on cue, the door to GraysonAEs office opened. Pulling on his charcoal gray suit, he strode down the hallway towards them. He struggled into his overcoat and reached for his briefcase.

oGrayson?o

He froze, one hand on the door. She caught the shadow of emotions playing across his face as he turned toward her.

oIAEm afraid IAEm running late for a meeting, Ms. Shaw. After that, IAEll be working at home this evening.o The set of his jaw formed a barrier between them, as impenetrable as a barbed wire fence. oIAEve left the things that need to be done on your desk.o

oThis is my second last night here,o she said, conscious of Barlow and Heck hanging on their every word.

oIAEm aware of that,o Grayson said. The door closed behind him leaving her in the company of John Barlow and James Heck.

With one last anxious glance at Amber, Heck escaped into the hall, as soon as he was certain the elevator had deposited Grayson on the ground floor and he wouldnAEt be offered further companionship. Barlow disappeared behind the barrier of his door. Inside she heard paper ruffling. HeckAEs invoice no doubt. Instinct grabbed hold of her senses. Barlow was behind this turn of bad luck. No matter what happened with Grayson, sheAEd settle things between them. Barlow raised the stakes. What started as cool dislike had just become personal.

Leave! Amber threw the sum of her will at the shadowy figure behind his closed door. Leave, so I can get into that filing cabinet! But the door stayed stubbornly closed, and Amber turned her attention to the work Grayson had left for her.

Lost in thought, she didnAEt hear him approach until he was standing over her. John Barlow wasnAEt a handsome man. Neglect marred every aspect of his appearance. From the haircut that was at least a month overdue, to the haphazard tie and rumpled suit. Even his briefcase was battered and worn on the edges. He stared down at her with beady eyes set in a puffy face. The antithesis of Grayson Charles, she couldnAEt help thinking. No wonder he resented his younger, more handsome and more successful partner.

oGood evening, Ms. Shaw,o he said with a leering smile that lingered just a little too long.

oEvening,o she answered curtly.

oIAEm going to be having a meeting in my office shortly....o For a moment he looked uncomfortable as if there was a great deal more he wanted to say and none of it nice.

oAnd?o

He was still standing there, blocking the way to her office. It was a challenge of sorts. What sort, she couldnAEt tell.

oAnd your services will not be needed.o

oI see.o

oGood.o He crossed to the coat rack. Taking her coat down off its hook, he held it out to her.

HeAEs kicking me out! Injustice raged inside her. oWhat about the work Grayson left for me to do tonight?o

oIAEll see to it.o He pushed her coat further toward her. Having no other choice, she took it.

You havenAEt seen the last of me, Mr. Barlow. She wanted to say it, but she didnAEt dare give herself away. Let Barlow trip over his inflated confidence. They always did.

oGood night, Mr. Barlow,o she said politely. Then the pretense at politeness deserted and she snatched up her purse and stormed through the door.

Thinking of the invoice nestled safely in her purse, she came to a sudden decision.

Could she find the way to his house down those winding country roads in the dark?

It was worth a try.

Chapter TEN

The world disappeared into a dark spiral beyond the glow of her headlights. Amber gripped the steering wheel harder and kept her foot on the gas, and fought back the urge to turn the car back around and head for the city. City-born and bred she could never understand what possessed people to live in what she deemed pre-industrial standards. Quiet, open spaces broken only by the howl of the wind through the trees struck her as eerie rather than comforting. The rules of city living she understood. DonAEt talk to strangers, mind your own business and watch out for dark alleys where you could be mugged or worse. Good fences, good locks on the front door made good neighbors. It wasnAEt comforting, but it was familiar. In the country everything was dark, neighbors few and far between.

If she hadnAEt been so surprised by GraysonAEs choice of a neighborhood, she might not have paid such close attention to where they were going. Being a passenger once, however, was a lot different than trying to find your own way down unfamiliar roads in the dark.

Ahead, the road branched into two different directions. Had they turned left or right? Amber peered into the darkness. Left, she decided, letting instinct take over. Inside her head, she called herself every variation of fool she could think of. What on earth compelled her to be out there in the middle of nowhere, searching for the home of a man who would likely slam the door in her face and leave her to find her own way home?

She simply couldnAEt leave things as they stood between Grayson and herself. The thought that he might think her involved with that worm James Heck, kept her driving. I have my standards, Grayson. What in heavens were you thinking?

Gravel sprayed beneath the HondaAEs wheels. A dim glow through the poplar hedge lit up the familiar outline of the schoolhouse. The last time sheAEd come here ... Amber thrust the thought from her mind. Letting the car door close softly, she walked toward the house.

He must have heard her coming. Before she could even knock on the ancient wooden door, it flew open.

oYou!o

Amber felt the last vestiges of her hope evaporate. Grayson didnAEt look at all happy to see her.

oMe,o she said softly. A fire beckoned in the living room beyond. But between her and the comfort of warmth on a cold night stood the impassive Grayson Charles. oCan I come in?o

Grayson motioned to the couch before the fireplace. Papers littered its surface and the sum of sitting space on the couch opposite. Apparently, when he worked, Grayson was just as untidy at home as at the office. oAs you can see, IAEm very busy.o

oIAEll only take a moment of your time.o

oI donAEt have a moment to spare.o

He wasnAEt going to make it easy for her. Amber dug in her purse, her fingers closing around the copy of HeckAEs invoice. She brought it out, into the dim light between them. oI just wanted to show you this.o

Grayson took the paper reluctantly, turning it into the light to see better. Amber stepped closer, inching past the threshold. It would be harder for him to turf her out now. An old trick from her PI days. Unfair to use it now, but she was desperate.

Amber watched the storm of emotion cross his face. Annoyance, relief, confusion and back to anger.

oAnyone could have fabricated this,o he said finally. He turned back, finding her suddenly in his way. oAs I said, I have work to do.o

Though he towered over her by at least a head, Amber held her ground. oWhy is it so hard,o she asked softly, oto believe me instead of John Barlow?o

oBarlow is my partner.o

oAnd I was your lover,o she snapped. Men misplaced their alliances, she reflected darkly.

His head came up. Suede-brown eyes beseeched her understanding, even as his face remained unyielding.

oWhy are you so intent on believing IAEm out to hurt you?o

The question took him by surprise. Involuntarily, he stepped back. Amber gained another precious inch of territory. oI might ask you the same question,o Grayson said finally, deflecting the dangerous question back upon her.

Who is he? The whisper of his words flitted though her memory. Sudden understanding illuminated the problems between them.

oWho was she?o

Her softly spoken words took him aback. She saw his spine straighten, his face harden for the battle he certainly expected to come. But then he sighed and looked tiredly back at her. Ruthlessly, Amber used that moment to move closer.

oLet me in, Grayson.o

oAmber, this isnAEt a good time.o

oThere isnAEt going to be a better one. Take advantage of my generosity, Counselor. ItAEs a rare thing.o

That got a smile out of him. oAll right, Amber.o He stepped back from the door. Crossing to the couch, he swept the papers into a single pile and motioned for her to sit down. oBut just for a moment. IAEm going to be up most of the night, anyway. I donAEt want to go to court tomorrow without any sleep.o

She took the offered seat and crouched there anxiously. oFirst, let me say that I am not nor have I ever been involved in any way with James Heck. Aside from the annual private investigatorAEs trade show, weAEve barely said more than a civil sentence to each other. Barlow should really watch who he hires. Heck was more than happy to sell me a copy of his invoice.o

He was listening, eyes scanning her face intently, as if for reassurance of the truth.

oI hope you appreciate this, Grayson,o Amber said with a sigh that seemed to suck what little energy remained from her body. oThat stupid invoice just cost me two hundred dollars.o

Grayson glanced down at the price on the Xeroxed invoice. oHe only charged Barlow a hundred and fifty.o

oYeah, well lifeAEs not fair.o

The ghost of a smile crossed his face. oNo, itAEs not.o

oTell me you didnAEt really think I was seeing that--that ... worm!o

oWhen it comes to you, Amber, I really donAEt know what to think.o Grayson flung himself down on the couch opposite, sending the papers into a flurry. They settled, some back on the seat beside him, others on the coffee table and the floor.

oYou could give me a bit more credit than that. I do have standards, you know.o

oHe didnAEt seem like your type.o

Amber glanced at the flames crackling in the fireplace. oSo, who was she Grayson?o

oAs I recall, I asked you the same question. You werenAEt so eager to answer.o

No, she most definitely wasnAEt. She stood at the crossroads of an opportunity and a very dangerous risk. To tell him meant she risked GraysonAEs rejection. Much easier to continue this way with the walls up between them, keeping them both safe from the perils of love. But also keeping them both apart. Amber dragged in a shuddering breath. Could she really trust him with the ugly fears, the hurt inside?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as her Grandma would say. And her grandmother was a fountain of metaphors and parables. But Grandma had never told her honesty would hurt this much. Or be this scary.

oHis name was Eric.o The words leapt from her lips before she could call them back. If she hesitated now, sheAEd never tell him. And if he was waiting for her to make the first move, well there it was. oHe was my fiancT. He decided he was in love with his secretary about a month before our wedding.o

Whatever heAEd been expecting, this wasnAEt it. oAmber, IAEm sorry.o

She waved his apology away. oItAEs okay, it was over a year ago. And a long time before him my father--o Courage deserted her suddenly. This older, deeper wound was infinitely more difficult to discuss. She dragged in a shaky breath. oSuffice to say he also found someone else heAEd rather have. Remarried, had a son. Suddenly, I wasnAEt so special. I never saw him again.o

Grayson was beside her in an instant. More papers drifted to the floor, but he didnAEt seem to notice. She felt the sudden warmth of his arms around her, the brush of his lips against her temple. oHush, Amber, itAEs all right. I didnAEt realize.o

And somehow, inexplicably, it was all right. The heat of him so near melted the ice around her heart. That ice had been melting since the day theyAEd met. Realization seeped slowly into her consciousness. Somehow sheAEd known it. And responded by building up that fortress of ice as quickly as he knocked it down. Still, she wouldnAEt let him in, not while he built a fence around his heart as impenetrable as her own.

Summoning the last of her false bravado she wiggled from his embrace and gazed up at him. oSo, Counselor, while weAEre baring our souls. ItAEs your turn.o

She watched the color drain from his face, felt his hand clench on her arm. oI canAEt see what can be gained by dredging up old hurts.o

oOf course you donAEt.o Betrayal soured her tone. oBut you didnAEt mind listening like a voyeur while I dredged up all of mine.o

oThatAEs not fair--o

oAllAEs fair,o she said.

oIn love and court,o he finished.

oDonAEt make me sue you for the answer.o

oYou wouldnAEt have a case.o His words trailed off into a sigh. Before her eyes, she could see his defenses dropping. Muscles relaxed, he pulled her closer and rested his head against hers.

oYouAEd lose,o Amber said softly.

His deep chuckle rumbled through him, like a lion purring. oYouAEd have the answer out of me one way or another.o

oWho is she, Grayson? Who hurt you so badly that you were willing to see betrayal in the guise of James Heck?o

For a moment she thought he was about to divert her attention again with caresses or arguments, heAEd used both weapons on her.

But then he surprised her by saying suddenly, oHer name was Melanie. We met when I was in law school.o

oAnother lawyer?o

oOh no, not Melanie. But she was looking to marry one. Her father had already chosen his future son-in-lawAEs profession. Only the profession mattered to him, not the man that went with it.o

oSounds like a real sweetheart.o

oHe wasnAEt all bad. He was just misguided in his attempts to ensure his daughterAEs happiness.o

oA frustrated lawyer,o she supplied. oNever had the money for law school. Married young, had kids, lost the dream. Am I right?o Of course she was right. Her uncanny ability to read the truth behind other peopleAEs motivations never failed her. Except where her heart was involved.

oSomething like that, IAEm sure. But he liked me well enough. And I loved Melanie. The perfect arrangement. I really thought we were going to spend our lives together.o

oUntil?o she asked gently.

Grayson sighed. She felt the rise and fall of his chest against her. oUntil Dad died and I joined the firm.o

oDadAEs shoes were harder to fill than I anticipated. I was working nights, weekends, trying to keep up. Roger--o He paused at the mention of his brotherAEs name. oUntil then, Roger and I had done everything together. But he couldnAEt help me with this one. I was on my own. Even Melanie didnAEt understand.o

oThat you were doing it all for her.o

oI was doing it for her.o That revelation seemed to surprise him, and he turned an appraising look upon her. oFor Melanie and for my Mom whose retirement depended on the firm continuing. So DadAEs dream wouldnAEt die with him.o

oMelanie couldnAEt see the wisdom behind short term pain for long term gain.o

Grayson nodded. His hand moved in calming strokes across her back and she wondered which of them he was really trying to comfort. oI kept telling her to hang on, that soon IAEd be making real money. Soon we could get married, buy a house.o

oShe saw only what she didnAEt have at the moment.o

oMelanie wasnAEt willing to wait. She found someone more suited to her, someone who could give her what she wanted.o

oWhich was?o

oA good time.o

oHe was a lawyer, I take it.o

Grayson laughed, deep rich laughter. oWrong again, Ms Shaw, Investigator Extraordinaire. An auto mechanic.o

oNo! Daddy mustnAEt have liked that.o

oI donAEt suppose he did, but by then I was long gone.o

oSuch a shame.o The wounded hearts, time and innocence lost. It was a story as old as time, and still there was no solution. Unlike fairy tales, there were few happy endings when it came to love. Perhaps that explained the attraction of fairy tales.

oShe only had to wait a few more months. Things took a turn for the better shortly after. I bought the house....o

oMelanie never knew?o

Grayson shook his head. oShe would have hated it here so far from the city and all the excitement. MelanieAEs idea of relaxation was a party a night. Roger would have suited her far better than me.o

oExcept that would have made you feel far worse.o

oNo fear. Melanie and Roger didnAEt get along at all. They were too much alike.o

The look on AmberAEs face spoke her opinion of Roger better than an impassioned speech. GraysonAEs mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

oYou shouldnAEt be so hard on him,o he said tracing the line of her lips with one finger. oDid I tell you he and Sandy are getting back together?o

She sat up quickly. oWhat about Cindy?o

oCindy called it quits.o

oAnd Sandy took him back?o

oApparently.o He settled a weightless kiss on her mouth.

oHeAEs a better actor than I thought.o

oOh, I donAEt think he was acting. You should have seen him. He was quite upset.o

The justice of it all was beautiful to behold. Even she couldnAEt have devised so appropriate a revenge. oGot himself a taste of his own medicine.o

oIt seems to have cured him.o

oIAEll believe that when I see it.o

She felt the curve of his smile against her own lips. oAlways the skeptic, Ms. Shaw.o

The movement of his lips tickled hers and she couldnAEt help laughing. oForce of habit.o

oIAEm happy my prodigal twin has finally found love. It gives me one less thing to worry about. And these days,o he said gravely, oone less is definitely an improvement.o

oGrayson--o

oOh no, Amber. Not a word more about Roger. And letAEs leave John Barlow out of this conversation as well.o

Amber opened her mouth to protest. But her objections were muffled by the pressure of his mouth. His kiss grew more demanding. oAnd now that my twin is once again happily in love, I think I should be as well. WeAEre in competition with each other after all.o

oWouldnAEt want him to have something that you didnAEt,o she said, a little miffed. Was that all she meant to Grayson? A trophy with which to impress his brother? Old familiar doubts crowded her thoughts.

oCertainly not.o The laughter in his words told her heAEd been kidding. But there was no mistaking the seriousness in his touch.

oWhat about your court case?o

Grayson let go a very long sigh. oI gave up on sleep the moment I saw your car.o

She was sorely tempted, but careless abandon, even for love, ran against all she believed in. oI think I should go.o

His arms tightened around her when she would have broken out of his embrace. oDonAEt go, Amber. ItAEs only ten oAEclock. If you stay, I can do my preparation work and have a bit of relaxation as well. Given a choice IAEd rather have it all.o

oThat sounds an awful lot like Roger.o

He drew back, assessing whether she meant it as an insult or a compliment. Deciding it was neither he smiled.

oAfter some careful deliberation, I've decided that Roger and I could learn a lot from each other.o He returned to his careful exploration of her kiss. oJust as you and I do.o

A strange thing to say, Amber thought, and wondered briefly what he meant by it. But soon his caress demanded the sum of her attention.

Somewhere between the door and the couch sheAEd lost her coat. Before she knew it her suede pumps lay abandoned on the rug before the fireplace. Her silk blouse ended up draped across the back of the couch and her tailored wool pants on the bottom rung of the ladder that led to the loft.

No fair, she thought. Having made himself comfortable at home in navy sweats, Grayson had a lot less to take off. She made a game of it anyway, teasing him in the candlelight that cast long shadows on the walls behind them. Grayson, herself, ten feet tall, curving against the slanted roof of the loft. Shortly, it ceased to matter what they had been wearing.

The goose down duvet was soft beneath her as his weight pressed her gently against the mattress. Kissing her, one arm hooked under her neck, he rummaged with the other hand in the top drawer of his bedside table. She sensed his lapse in concentration and yanked him closer.

He pulled away from her briefly, casting one furtive glance in the drawer heAEd been blindly searching and coming up with a small foil packet which he left within easy reach. Amber craned her neck, catching a glimpse of pinky-orange.

oPassion Punch?o

oHope you like tropical fruit.o

Her laugh turned to a gasp as his lips dipped lower, brushing her collar bone, slipping lower still. She moaned as the heat of his mouth enclosed the peak of one breast.

oThe ... other oneAEs ... getting jealous,o she got out in rasping breaths. And chuckling, he made peace between them.

With hands and lips, she explored the smooth terrain of his chest, the dark tangle of hair at its center. Her hands traveled lower, past his slim hips to explore the impressive length of him, until he lured her attention away when his lips broached the secret place between her thighs. Gripping the duvet beneath her, Amber abandoned herself to the marvelous sensations he created within her, forgetting everything sheAEd come to warn him about.

It was only long after, when they lay together, beneath the duvet this time instead of on top of it, that the doubts crept back in one by one. Amber wiggled out from under the weight of his arm. oGrayson, I know this is a heck of a time to mention thisa.o

oYouAEre right,o he said sleepily. oThis is a heck of a time. And I still have work to do.o

oYou should have saved me as a reward for a job well done.o

oNext time,o he said wistfully.

oAbout Barlowa.o

oOh no, Amber, not now.o There was a desperate plea in his words.

oHe wouldnAEt leave until I did,o Amber said resolutely. Grayson was going to listen to her this time. A captive audience, she had him at a disadvantage. oHeAEs hiding something. Something he most definitely doesnAEt want me to see.o

oGo to sleep, Amber,o Grayson said pulling her back under the covers with him. oAt least one of us should get some rest tonight.o

Warm and cozy in the attic loft, it was desperately hard not to comply. In spite of her convictions, Amber felt her eyelids drifting closed.

Thinking her asleep, Grayson went back downstairs to work on his case by the flickering candlelight that would have driven her crazy.

Her eyes flew open. Once it fastened on a clue, her private investigatorAEs brain would not let her sleep.

That troublesome problem was John Barlow. Suddenly, she realized that, though Grayson had opened up to her more than ever before, heAEd skillfully maneuvered her away from the topic of his unreliable partner.

Did he seduce her just to avoid a topic of conversation even more painful than the one theyAEd had? Or did he plan to deal with John Barlow by himself? Time was running out. Grayson didnAEt even know it.

All was not well at Barlow & Charles. The answer to the mystery lay in John BarlowAEs files. Tomorrow was her last day at the firm. AmberAEs eyes narrowed.

No matter what else happened, tomorrow she had to get into that filing cabinet.

Chapter ELEVEN

Something was terribly wrong. Amber placed the phone back in its cradle and stared at it.

She awoke alone in GraysonAEs house, much later than she preferred to rise in the morning. Next time she visited, sheAEd pack an alarm clock. This sleeping in was getting to be a bad habit. Arriving late at Fair Game, she called Barlow & Charles and got the firmAEs answering machine. Grayson had said heAEd be in court for most of the morning, so she left a message asking him to call her back. When the afternoon became evening, she began to worry.

Another call to the law firm netted her only a harried voice-mail message from Grayson saying he hoped to be in the office later. Not so much anything he said that gave her the feeling of impending doom, but something in the tone of his voice worried her. Maybe things hadnAEt gone well in court in spite of GraysonAEs careful preparation. Guilt nagged at her for keeping him up late last night. They were going to have to set some ground rules regarding these late-night rendezvous. The future of two businesses lay at stake.

Amber glanced down at the file folder on her desk. Behind her the cursor on her monitor blinked off and on, reminding her she should be working on the Marchand case. But her mind slid annoyingly away from productive thought and fastened resolutely on the topic of Grayson Charles. Another of the dangers of being in love. Love? She turned the word over in her mind and hesitantly decided it fit. She did love Grayson, had definitely fallen in lust the moment they met and later, at The Terrace Restaurant, lust had lured her into territory sheAEd sworn never to stray again. Slowly, between long glances and languid caresses, Grayson Charles had stolen her very soul.

A grown woman, she knew the risks. She could get badly hurt. At the very least she could find more of her attention wandering into thoughts of him.

Tomorrow was her last day at Barlow & Charles. After the scene with James Heck, neither of them had mentioned Amber doing further contract work at the firm. Maybe that was for the best. She had another client. The lull in business seemed to be over for the moment. Better to keep their business dealings on a professional level. And try her best to keep her mind on work. Amber dragged her thoughts back to the Marchand case.

To no avail.

Something was wrong at Barlow & Charles. Or something had gone amiss with Grayson. Private investigator instincts shouted for her attention. She glanced at the clock on her desk. Five-thirty. Time enough to be getting over to the law firm. SheAEd put her doubts to rest and make a fresh start in the morning.

****

Grayson rushed by her in the hallway, wool overcoat trailing behind him like dark wings, and nearly running her down as she came around the corner from the elevator.

oSorry.o Not even recognizing her he rushed to catch the elevator still lingering at the floor.

oGrayson!o

He stopped, one hand on the elevator door, one inside already reaching for the button. oOh, Amber.o

oWhatAEs wrong?o

His shoulders drooped. He set his briefcase on the floor.

oBad day in court?o she guessed.

oThe worst.o

oMy fault?o Instantly she wished she hadnAEt asked. If sheAEd ruined his case, she didnAEt think her conscience could help it.

oNo, not your fault.o He offered her a bawdy grin in memory of the night theyAEd shared. oBut IAEve got to go. Be back in awhile.o

oShould I wait for you here?o

oDonAEt know how long IAEll be,o he said, letting the elevator doors slide closed. oIAEll call you later.o

oWhatever that means,o she grumbled as the doors shut, separating them. That uneasy feeling simply wasnAEt going to go away, Amber thought, walking alone down the hall to Barlow & Charles.

Inside the office felt all the more lonely for his absence. No to-do file lay waiting on her desk. Amber checked GraysonAEs desk, but in his haste, heAEd neglected to leave instructions for her final night at Barlow & Charles. Evidence of his bad day lay all over the office. Papers were scattered over the two leather chairs, in haphazard piles on the floor and littered over the entire surface of his desk. One filing cabinet stood half open. Another flurry of papers bursting from its interior, as if the files inside had conspired to escape as soon as the drawer was opened.

Shaking her head, Amber bent to retrieve the scattered files, attempting to put them into some sort of logical order. Tomorrow Grayson would insist he couldnAEt find a thing. How he could find anything in the mess on the floor was beyond her. Her ordered brain wouldnAEt tolerate such chaos.

Might as well make myself useful. The altruistic action wasnAEt nearly as noble as she pretended. It had been weeks since sheAEd had that first glimpse into GraysonAEs files. To find out what lay behind the mystery of John Barlow, she needed another look.

But GraysonAEs files yielded no clues. They contained only the details of the firmAEs cases. The financial records, the corporate tax returns, all the information on the health of the company lay in BarlowAEs files. The ones with the red and black labels. The one in which sheAEd found a letter detailing how he planned to sell out the firm.

Without proof, Grayson would never believe her. Her last night. Never again would she have an excuse to be rifling the files of Barlow & Charles. Stuffing the last of GraysonAEs files back into the cabinet, Amber closed the door to this office quietly behind her and continued down the hall to John BarlowAEs office.

She froze, her hand on the brass doorknob. Inside came the low murmur of a phone conversation in progress, spoken in the soft, yet menacing tones of John Barlow. Amber could have sworn his office was empty when she arrived. But she hadnAEt checked. Her disappointment at not spending the evening with Grayson made her remiss. She desperately needed into those files, and she could hardly break into BarlowAEs filing cabinet with him sitting right there on the phone.

Pressing her ear against the door, she strained to hear details of the conversation, but Barlow talked in a voice that was barely above a whisper. The jerk probably enjoys everyone straining to hear him. A subtle power trip, she realized. It made everyone else lower their voice and pay attention. Gotta try that one some time.

Frustrated, she returned to her desk. When had she started thinking of it as her own instead of the departed NicoleAEs?

Was that why Barlow insisted they didnAEt have the funds to hire a secretary? Because he was planning to sell off the firm to a larger one, where theyAEd be sucked into the machinery of a large company that already a staff of secretaries and dicta-typists?

BarlowAEs plan started to make a whole lot of sense. Why hadnAEt she seen it before? Because sheAEd spent all her energy on surveillance of BarlowAEs dangerously handsome partner, instead of Barlow, her conscience answered.

Whatever was going down in that office had to do with the sale of the firm. The sale Grayson was still ignorant of. The sale Grayson refused to believe was taking place. Barlow had kept him busy so he wouldnAEt find out. Not until it was too late. She knew it. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled with the rightness of her speculation.

And then a thought occurred to her. If she hadnAEt known Barlow was there, perhaps he didnAEt know she was there also. At some time in the evening he was bound to leave, either for dinner, or to lay the groundwork for the firmAEs downfall. Amber picked up her purse. Taking her coat from its hook, she tip-toed back down the hall and closed the door to GraysonAEs office behind her.

By touch alone she felt her way through the dark office, until she found the cupboard where Grayson kept several dry cleaned shirts and an emergency suit. Slowly, afraid of making even the tiniest noise, she pried the door open. It was barely big enough for her, even more cramped with the purse and her winter coat, but she squeezed inside. If Barlow caught her here, all would be lost. She counted on the fact that heAEd been so immersed in his conversation, he hadnAEt been paying attention to what was going on in the outer office.

Please, she willed the universe. Get off the phone and leave. But Barlow seemed content to continue his conversation while she crouched in GraysonAEs closet and tried not to panic. Minutes dragged by, agonizingly slow.

Finally, far down the hall, she heard the click of a door opening and soft footsteps padded her way. Amber shrank back against the far fall of the closet, flattening GraysonAEs starched shirts behind her. SheAEd get them re!pressed for him later. If Barlow caught her there, it wouldnAEt matter.

The door to GraysonAEs office swung open. Light spilled across the floor. Amber held her breath, in case even the tiny sound of her shallow breaths might give her away. Through the narrow band of light where the closet door didnAEt quite meet the carpet, she saw the shadow of a pair of black menAEs shoes tread past. Older menAEs shoes, the kind you could wear to work or to a wedding or even a funeral, polished to a dull gleam. Not the kind of shoes Grayson had in his wardrobe.

Barlow.

GraysonAEs desk drawer whooshed open. Metal tinkled as paper clips and pens were jostled together, then came a rustle of papers. For a moment Amber wondered if sheAEd made a mistake, that Grayson had come back and was wondering where she was. For one terrible moment she debated risking opening the closet door to check, but that prickling at the nape of her neck, the sickening weight of dread in her stomach kept her hiding.

She heard more drawers being opened, more papers being examined, the clunk of the filing cabinet sliding shut. Footsteps moved in her direction. Amber uttered a silent prayer.

Then, mercifully, the office door closed, she heard a series of pops and clicks as the lights in the hall were turned off, then the tape shuttling back and forth as the answering machine cued up.

In the closet the darkness was now absolute. Over the rush of blood in her ears, she heard the front door swing to a close. Then....

Nothing.

Her lungs protested their abuse with a sharp burning sensation. Slowly, Amber let go of the breath sheAEd been holding and dragged in another. When Barlow didnAEt come leaping out of the shadows, she sagged weakly against the back of the closet, her chest heaving. For several more minutes she sat alone in the velvet darkness, listening to the rhythm of her own breathing and straining for traces of sound in the outer office. But the silence continued, and finally, she rose from the crouch, muscles screaming at being forced to maintain such an unnatural position for so long.

Slowly, she pushed the closet door open and crept out into the office. Pressing her ear against the door to the hallway, she heard nothing but the regular tick of the clock at the far end of the hall. Flattening herself against the wall, she inched toward the door to BarlowAEs office, half expecting it all to be a great joke and to find Barlow sitting at NicoleAEs desk waiting for her to reveal herself. The outer office, however, was empty.

Her hand closed around the doorknob. She hesitated, pressing her ear to the door, straining to hear signs of movement inside. But the interior was a quiet as the proverbial tomb. Amber turned the handle.

Locked.

Shoulders sagging, in a mixture of relief and frustration, she eyed the locked door to BarlowAEs office and wondered idly if it would respond to a good swift kick. But that would likely only get her a broken toe and make more noise than she was willing to risk. She glared at the door. But it didnAEt respond to her glare any better. Old investigator skills, long unused tugged at her memory.

oWhen was the last time you let a locked door stop you, Amber?o she whispered. Down at the bottom of her purse, along with two fuzzy Lifesavers and a disintegrating aspirin were a series of lock-picks. SheAEd almost thrown them out several times, but theyAEd come in handy once when she locked herself out of her apartment. And so they stayed.

She reached her hand into her purse, tentatively, trying not to jangle too many keys or too much change. Feeling past the wallet, the furry bristles of a hairbrush that desperately needed to be cleaned, she felt the cold metal at the bottom. Amber felt further, questing after the tiny penlight attached to her key ring. She found it, wrapped her hand around the keys to stop them from jingling.

It was awkward holding the penlight in one hand and the lock pick in the other. Her hand shook as she fed the first thin piece of metal into the lock. Willing herself to calmness, she slid it further into the brass, probing for the mechanism that would release the tumblers. Sweaty palms made it hard to grasp the pick. Why am I so nervous? Picking someoneAEs lock had never been pleasant, but she couldnAEt remember being so unnerved. Because this time itAEs personal, her mind answered. The future of GraysonAEs firm depended on a hunch. And her future with Grayson depended on not getting caught.

oPlease, please, please,o she chanted softly, working the lock pick slowly back and forth. She felt the tumblers give before she heard the click, sounding terribly loud in the silent office. The door to BarlowAEs office swung open. Pocketing the evidence, she stepped inside.

The tiny flashlight cast only the faintest of beams, enough to make it across the office without barking her shins on the desk or one of the chairs that seemed to rear up out of nowhere in the darkness. In BarlowAEs filing cabinet there had to be a piece of evidence damning enough to convince Grayson.

Crossing to the filing cabinet, she found it predictably locked as well. Perhaps the key was in BarlowAEs desk. But the desk was also locked. Amber studied this new dilemma.

Break into the desk or break into the filing cabinet. If the desk did hold the key to the filing cabinet, it would make her search easier. But if it didnAEt, sheAEd still have to pick the lock on the filing cabinet. That would make a total of three locks. She didnAEt think her nerves could stand it. Wrapping her hand around the thin piece of metal, she slid it into the filing cabinet lock.

The spring lock was more of a challenge, more pressure required and a smaller space in which to work. Tension mounted. What if Grayson returned and found her crouched there in the darkness raiding BarlowAEs filing cabinet. Would he believe her intentions were honorable? She doubted it. The lock resisted stubbornly. Amber debated giving up and trying the desk after all. Time crept by. Grayson might be back at any minute. She fed the pick further into the lock, worked it back and forth, putting some pressure behind the movement.

With a loud pong, the filing cabinet sprang open. Amber remembered to breathe.

Holding the penlight above the drawer, she searched for those files with the red and black labels, squinting to distinguish between colors that in the dark all looked like the same shade of gray.

The first drawer contained only ledgers from the past few years. Amber slid it softly closed and opened the next. More detailed accounts, tax returns for seven years running filled the next. No evidence of BarlowAEs plans leapt out at her. She was sure sheAEd found that letter in the first drawer, but the files seemed to have been rearranged.

Suddenly it all made sense. The key missing from GraysonAEs top drawer, where he insisted heAEd left it. BarlowAEs last minute visit to Grayson office. Whatever he was hiding, he didnAEt want Amber or his partner stumbling across them accidentally.

But Amber hadnAEt imagined the paper sheAEd found nestled in the files in BarlowAEs top drawer. An offer by a rival firm to buy out Barlow & Charles. Why hadnAEt she taken a Xerox of it then, before Grayson knew what she was up to, before sheAEd ever met John Barlow?

Because sheAEd never expected Grayson to become so important to her. Not in a million years had she planned to fall victim to the devastating charm of the man whoAEd sued her over the only mistake sheAEd ever made. The mistake she was in the process of compounding. Amber flipped furiously through the files, pulling out the ones that looked likely to be scrutinized under the fading glow of her penlight.

It has to be here, it just has to.

Crouching in the darkness, Amber bent to open the last filing drawer. Old correspondence, some of it dating back a decade, crammed in so tightly, she had to wedge the files back in after examining them. She quickened her pace, skimming over pages and pages of text, trying to stem the rising panic at the thought that she might have risked GraysonAEs trust for nothing.

Only a handful of files to search. Her heart sank. And then, she noticed the dates on these last few files were more recent than the rest. Such agonizingly slow work, she mused, trying to get her fumbling fingers to move faster. Each file had to be placed back precisely where sheAEd found it, all its pages in order, or Barlow would know what sheAEd been up to. Just to be safe, sheAEd wipe her fingerprints off the front of the filing cabinet and the door handle. Just in case. Several times she thought she heard the sound of the front door opening, but each heart-stopping incident turned out to be nothing more than her overactive imagination at work.

Two files left. And nothing. With trembling fingers, Amber opened the last. Her breath escaped in a rush.

But her search came up empty. The file was full of nothing but call reports to clients. With a leaden feeling of dread inside, Amber stuffed the file back in its place and reached to close the drawer.

Just as she was pulling her hand away, she felt something down at the bottom of the drawer, shoved in behind all the other files. No hanging folder sat on the rack for it. No, that file had been stuffed down behind the others because someone didnAEt want it to be found.

Carefully, she maneuvered it from beneath the others. Biting her lower lip, she opened the file.

oBingo!o she whispered triumphantly. oNice to know IAEm not imagining things.o In her hands lay a letter from the firm of Belaoussoff, Bekar, Karulis & Lacey confirming the proposed sale of Barlow & Charles.

The sale Grayson still didnAEt have an inkling about despite her many attempts to warn him. Anger surged inside her. You wonAEt get away with this, Barlow. I intend to see to it personally.

No time to waste. She had to get that letter on the Xerox, make a copy of it, file it deep in her purse with the invoice from James Heck and the case she was rapidly building against John Barlow. Grayson would be back shortly. Tonight, after a little romance, when the time seemed right, sheAEd have a serious talk with Grayson. No ill-conceived, impulsive speeches this time. SheAEd lay out her case carefully, succinctly. Like a lawyer. HeAEd have to believe her once he saw the evidence.

Slowly, quietly, Amber shut the filing drawer and rose to leave. The insubstantial glow of the penlight had dwindled down to practically nothing, and she turned it off to conserve its last energy. SheAEd need it to put the file back.

She should have warmed up the photocopy machine before she went into BarlowAEs office, she scolded herself. All that had happened between Grayson and herself dulled her reflexes. She should stop thinking like a lover and more like a private investigator. At least until she was out of Barlow & Charles and the entire incident was over.

Just a couple more minutes, thatAEs all I need, she prayed as she walked silently across the carpet toward the door. Her hand circled the brass knob.

But just as she was about to turn it, the door sprang open.

Dazzling light from hall beyond assaulted her senses. Amber flung an arm across her face to ease the glare on her eyes made sensitive by the darkness. She blinked, taking in the dark form of an overweight stocky man in an ill-tailored suit. Her eyes teared. But there was no mistaking the quiet menace in John BarlowAEs voice.

oCan I help you, Miss Shaw?o

Amber scoured her brain for a glib reply. There was no disguising the predicament sheAEd been caught in. Standing well into BarlowAEs territory, the damning file in her hand, her quick reflexes escaped her. There was nothing she could think of to say that would deflect the attention from the papers in her hand. No way to rush by him to the photocopy machine, which would take at least five minutes to warm up, make her copy, grab her coat out of GraysonAEs closet where sheAEd left it, and dash through the door carrying a copy of BarlowAEs private property. No way out at all.

oI--o

oYou what, Miss Shaw?o Barlow growled.

She could see him now, her eyes finally adjusted to the light. And the expression on his face wasnAEt friendly at all.

oI--o Damn it, why wouldnAEt her brain work? Why hadnAEt she thought of an alibi before she went barreling in there?

oYouAEre going to hand over my property and sit quietly while I call the police,o Barlow instructed.

oI donAEt think so,o Amber countered boldly.

oNo?o Barlow raised an eyebrow. On Grayson the expression looked charming. On his partner it appeared all the more lecherous. oThen IAEm afraid, Miss Shaw, youAEre even more foolish than I thought.o

AmberAEs mind belatedly sprang into high gear. Schemes formed, then were instantly rejected. Playing meek wasnAEt going to work on John Barlow. Trapped between him and the door, her only defense appeared to be a formidable offense.

oThought you could get away with it, didnAEt you?o she bluffed. Stall him long enough to think up something better.

oI donAEt know what youAEre talking about.o If she didnAEt know better, sheAEd think Barlow sounded bored. Did he really consider her that much of a push-over? SheAEd show him. oYouAEre the one, Miss Shaw, who broke into my office and thieved my property. I ought to ask you the same question.o

oAnd what about the property youAEre about to steal?o Amber charged ahead. No turning back now. Not with the evidence in her hands. Barlow could do what he wanted, she had no witnesses to back up her story. oDid you neglect to tell your partner you were about to sell to the firm out from under his feet? The very company heAEs been working night and day to build up, while you were out there tearing it down.o

oHow very dramatic.o

oIt will be when Grayson finds out what youAEve been up to.o

oIt isnAEt a crime to sell off oneAEs assets, Miss Shaw.o

oIt is when theyAEre not entirely yours.o

oI beg to differ. I started this firm.o

oHeAEll never agree.o AmberAEs hand tightened on the file. She couldnAEt let that paper fall into BarlowAEs clutches. Grayson would never believe her without the hard evidence to back up her claim.

oHe wonAEt have a choice.o Barlow smiled like a wolverine. oAnd you neednAEt worry about your lover, heAEll be well paid for his share, since that seems to be your concern.o

Is that what he thought? That she was worried about GraysonAEs assets for the money involved? The swine. Money obviously mattered a great deal to Barlow or he would never have forged the deal she was desperately trying to stop him from completing. oMoney isnAEt the issue here.o

oIsnAEt it, Miss Shaw? IAEd say most people have a price. WhatAEs yours?o

The worm, was he really trying to buy her off? Why didnAEt he just call the police as he threatened? Afraid the publicity would damage his carefully cultivated deal, she decided.

oMy price is beyond your budget, Mr. Barlow. ItAEs called honesty, integrity.o

To her amazement Barlow burst into laughter. oAnd this from the woman who makes her living spying on other people! The woman who got sued for her incompetence.o

oWe arenAEt talking about me.o

oOh, but we could be.o

She had to get past him, get away with that document in her possession. Taking a gamble, Amber blurted, oGrayson already knows. I told him.o She watched as the facade of BarlowAEs self assurance crumbled, then added, oHeAEs out right now, undoing your hard work.o Chew on that one, she thought viciously.

And darted to the right.

Flattening herself to the wall, she dove for the freedom of the outer office. Shocked, Barlow spun belatedly in pursuit. For an instant, she thought she was free. Never mind the coat, sheAEd hail a cab. Hopefully Grayson would return before Barlow sent the police after her. The leather strap of her purse snapped tight. Suddenly she found herself flailing backward. Knocked off balance the file flew from her grip, scattering papers in a brief whirlwind of white. As one, they dove for the precious documents.

The office door flew open. Amber looked up to find Grayson towering in the doorway. He glanced from Barlow to the mess on the floor, then back to Amber. His expression darkened, like storm clouds gathering.

oWhat the hellAEs going on in here?o

Chapter TWELVE

Amber dove for the pile of scattered papers, Barlow in quick pursuit. Barlow was bigger, but Amber was faster. She would have made it, except that the heel of her pump slid on the slick bond paper. With an undignified tumble, she went down, scattering the papers in the file further out of recognizable order.

The sudden fall served to put her closer to her goal and she shuffled the papers, searching desperately for the one golden piece that would prove her claim.

Barlow found it first.

Amber snatched it from his hands. He yanked it back. With a horrifying sound, the paper tore. She found half the letter in her hands. The other half, the one containing the last paragraph that closed the deal and the signatures of the partners of Belaoussoff, Bekar, Karulis & Lacey, Barlow claimed. Stuffing it deep into the inside pocket of his blazer, her turned to face Grayson.

oYour private investigator,o Barlow thrust his fists against his hips in righteous indignation, ohas been rifling my personal files.o

GraysonAEs eyes widened at the accusation. He watched in obvious embarrassment as she climbed awkwardly to her feet. oAmber?o

oWhatAEs going on here,o Amber said, leaping into the conversation before Barlow could get another word out, ois that your partner has arranged to sell the firm you worked so hard to build to Belaoussoff & Bekara.o

oKarulis and Lacey?o Grayson finished. She watched the flush of his anger drain slowly from his face as he digested this new piece of information. His expression paled from disbelief to dismay. Circles seemed to etch themselves deeper beneath his eyes against the pallor brought on from nights of hard work and too little sleep. He put down his briefcase. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned to Barlow. His posture proclaimed the confrontation to come, but to Amber he looked like a young boy whoAEd been betrayed by his best friend. oJohn, is this true?o

oOf course not.o Barlow dusted off his suit pants and straightened. oJust another point in the smear campaign this private investigator of yours is trying to build against me. Really, Charles. I donAEt care what you do in your off hours, but this liaison has become more than recreational, itAEs damaging the integrity of this firm. People are talking.o

oWhat people--o

Amber shoved the half piece of paper at Grayson before Barlow could answer his question. oPeople are talking all right. And it isnAEt about you and me. ItAEs about the sale of this firm.o

Grayson took the paper from her hands. Dragging his eyes downward, he forced himself to read the three legible paragraphs before the rip.

oThe sale heAEs been arranging behind your back while youAEve been working yourself to death trying to pay his bills.o Amber kept talking. To pause only gave Barlow an opportunity to jump in and persuade Grayson to take his side.

oBelieve none of this,o Barlow ordered.

oThe firm is bankrupt,o Amber continued. She glared at Barlow, afraid even to look at Grayson. If he believed Barlow instead of her, she didnAEt want to know. Not until sheAEd laid it all on the line. oI found the ledger in BarlowAEs files my first day on the job.o

oThose files are my personal property. She had no business being in there. I ought to charge her with--o

GraysonAEs head came up. oI want to see those files.o

Digging in his pocket, Barlow came up with a series of small keys on a ring. oFine. Look all you like. There are no such papers in my files.o

His performance convinced Grayson. Amber watched him falter, shifting ever so slightly to BarlowAEs side of the argument. Truth leant Barlow strength. Even if Grayson did examine the files, he wouldnAEt find the ones sheAEd seen there.

oNot anymore,o Amber interjected quickly. oHe destroyed them.o

Barlow shot her a caustic look. oThat accusation is even more ridiculous than the last. Need I remind you, Miss Shaw, that breaking and entering is against the law.o

Logic tipped the balance a little more in BarlowAEs favor. Certainly what sheAEd done lay on the shady side of the law. But sheAEd been trying to protect GraysonAEs interests. Anger bubbled up inside her, demanding release. Barlow was the one breaking the law, selling off what wasnAEt his. She stabbed a finger in BarlowAEs direction.

oHe knew IAEd been in his office, so he destroyed the evidence. If it wasnAEt for me, his plan would have gone off without a hitch. ThatAEs why he was so angry with you when he came back from holiday. ThatAEs why he wanted you to get rid of me.o

oThen thereAEs no proof.o Defeat colored GraysonAEs expression. He was right. There was no proof, none but her word. Appearances were not on her side. In GraysonAEs place even she would have believed Barlow. She was the one with her hand in the cookie jar. Certain Barlow had won him over, she glanced at Grayson trying to determine whether he believed his partnerAEs word over hers. Guarded eyes betrayed nothing of what he felt. But she could feel his faith slipping away from her as he listened to the hard facts of his partnerAEs argument. As a lawyer, heAEd be more likely to be swayed by cold detail than the longing of his heart. She couldnAEt let Barlow win him over.

oIAEm the proof! IAEm your witness.o Amber took the paper from his hands. oI can tell you what the rest of this letter says. I can tell you how much your firm is in the red, because I saw the papers.o

oDonAEt believe her,o Barlow said, quietly, reasonably. oThough Miss Shaw is an attractive woman, she is also deranged. She has no evidence to back up her ridiculous claim.o

BarlowAEs words a ring of truth to them, Amber reluctantly agreed. She had no evidence, no proof.

oThe ledger has been destroyed,o Amber said quickly. oBut evidence of the sale of the firm is in BarlowAEs pocket.o She did look at him them, openly, without pleading and risked her very heart. oYouAEll just have to believe me, Grayson.o

oSheAEs lying.o The command behind BarlowAEs words was impressive. He must have been a formidable lawyer, Amber thought. Before he lost his integrity. Barlow looked earnestly at Grayson. oBelaoussoff & Bekar did make an offer to purchase the firm, but nothingAEs happened with it so far.o

Without that last paragraph the letter could be interpreted that way. She couldnAEt allow Barlow to convince him of that.

oBelaoussoff & Bekar have agreed not only to purchase the firm, but to assume its debts. The deal is practically cinched. Barlow kindly accepted their offer on your behalf. All he needs is your signature.o She glared at Barlow oWere you going to forge that as well?o

oEnough of this! I wonAEt stand here and be insulted.o Barlow scraped up his papers and rose to leave.

Grayson stepped in his path. oGive me the paper John.o

oNo.o

Standing so close together, the difference in their heights and ages was even more pronounced. What had drawn Grayson to this clearly unreliable man, Amber wondered. Was he trying to replace the father heAEd lost? Her sympathy disappeared with BarlowAEs next words.

oShe has no proof of her allegations. Who are you going to believe? Your own partner, or the woman you had to sue for her incompetence?o He waited another second, letting the weight of his argument settle, then added, oDonAEt disappoint me, Grayson.o

BarlowAEs words dropped into the silence. For a moment Amber had been certain she had Grayson on her side. Then Barlow reached in to tug on his heart strings, dredging up their long history together. A history that went back a lot further than the brief month she and Grayson had been together.

Grayson weakened, buying into the validity of his partnerAEs argument. What Barlow had done was illegal, no doubt about that. But she was the one whoAEd been caught. Appearances alone accused her.

This was the moment sheAEd been dreading. Amber felt her heartbeat hesitate, as if in suspended animation. It would take a huge leap of faith for Grayson to believe her over his partner. As a lawyer, Barlow could build a much better argument than she. As his fatherAEs partner, Grayson had grown up respecting the older man. Barlow was cool, calm, logical. She had only accusations with no proof of their validity. And a dubious track record at that. Grayson mistrusted her before. Why would he trust her now, when so much was at stake? So much more than an argument. The future of his firm. The future of their relationship.

Anticipation of the disappointment to come seeped into her soul. TheyAEd all proclaimed their love for her, Eric, her father. And theyAEd all been ... lying. She felt her stomach clench, her shoulders tighten, waiting for the inevitable blow. From the moment she knew she loved Grayson, sheAEd worried that put to the test, he would disappoint her bitterly. As Eric had. She tried to catch his eye, to show him the sum of her pure and desperate hope, but Grayson had his attention fixed solely on Barlow.

Amber shut her eyes in silent prayer.

oIAEm going to believe Amber,o Grayson said quietly. oEven if the truth isnAEt what I want to hear.o

oYouAEll regret this.o

Grayson shook his head. oThe regrets will be yours, John. BelaoussoffAEs home number ought to be somewhere in my dadAEs Rolodex. And if itAEs not, IAEll just keep going, even if I have to call Bekar in Bermuda or Karulis by radio phone up north at the chalet. You might as well give it to me. Because I will get that information, one way or another.o

oDonAEt make a fool of yourself.o

oOnce they hear what youAEve done, I doubt theyAEll want you for a partner. But if they do, youAEre welcome to sell your share of the firm to Belaoussoff & Bekar, in fact, I heartily urge you to.o

oI built this firm--o Barlow began.

oMy father built this firm. And I worked my butt off to keep it going. Admit it, Barlow, this partnership isnAEt working. Even my brother can see that. YouAEre right, John. People are talking.o

oCanAEt you recognize a good deal when itAEs right under your nose?o

oA good deal! For whom? You? Belaoussoff & Bekar?o Grayson bent to retrieve his briefcase. Opening it, he shoved the paper inside and snapped it closed. oFirst thing tomorrow morning, IAEm going to decline their offer.o

oYouAEre not the man your father was.o He launched the insult like an arrow at GraysonAEs back.

Slowly, Grayson rose to face him. oRight you are about that. IAEm nothing like my father.o Wrenching the door open, he motioned with a flourish for Barlow to step through. oTake your things and go. From now on these are my offices. Especially since IAEve been doing all the work in this firm.o

oI canAEt believe youAEre asking me to leave.o

oLong over due, I assure you. If my father had severed your partnership he might have lived longer.o He fixed Barlow with a long hard stare. oHow much did you shorten his life by?o

He uttered the words so quietly, Amber wasnAEt sure sheAEd heard him. But Barlow did. Snatching up his coat, he stepped through the doorway, then whirled to face Grayson.o You sound as ridiculous as your crazy PI.o

oActually,o Grayson said. oI think I just went sane.o

He closed the door, cutting off the rest of BarlowAEs protests. His footsteps thudded off down the carpeted hallway. They heard him punch the elevator button, then the muted rush of the doors sliding shut.

Amber sagged against the door, as if Barlow might come crashing through it again. With a deep sigh, Grayson sat on the corner of the desk and rested his head in his hands.

oI canAEt believe I did that.o

oGrayson--o

His reply was muffled by his hands. oWhat?o

oI was telling the truth.o

He held out his hand, and when she stepped into range, grasped her and pulled her close. oI know.o

oWhat made you so sure?o

oI love you, Amber. I just knew.o

oKind of the way you just know someoneAEs guilty when they insist theyAEre innocent.o

oSort of.o

oSo what now?o

oI suppose I have an early morning meeting at Belaoussoff & Bekar.o He ran a hand over his face. oAnd a ton of work to do if IAEm going to set up my own firm.o

oHe wasnAEt an asset to you.o

oRogerAEs been telling me that for a long time.o

oWell, heAEs right.o

oRoger? Right? Ms. Shaw, have you completely lost your mind?o

oPerhaps IAEm just developing a deeper appreciation of your twin.o

oIAEll believe that one when I see the hard evidence.o

She nuzzled deeper against his chest. oThat shouldnAEt be too hard. After all, he does have a few qualities in common with you.o

oDoes he now? I wouldnAEt have expected to hear that from you.o

oGrayson! I am trying.o

oIAEm sure Roger will appreciate that. He likes you, you know.o

oSo you keep saying.o

oHe thinks youAEre the woman I should marry.o

oWhat do you think?o

Grayson rested his head against hers. His arms tightened around her. oI think heAEs right.o

Eyes closed, she traced the outline of his chin with her lips until she located the center of his warmth. And for a second she was lost in the feel of him, his weight pressed against her. She laced her hands through his dark curls, reveling in the thick rough texture of his hair.

Knowing finally Grayson was truly hers.

Knowledge settled like a warm reassuring weight within her. BarlowAEs betrayal strengthened their relationship instead of breaking it apart as sheAEd feared. The firm was safe. And she had Grayson.

The pressure of his lips urged hers apart. His hot probing tongue invaded her mouth. A gentle invasion of the most welcoming sort. He made no pretense of his intention. He wanted her. She burrowed deeper into the V made by his legs answering his unspoken question.

His mouth left hers. She felt the brush of his kiss against the pulse behind her ear, then the pale column of her neck. Warm breath puffed against her collar bone as he set to work on the tiny buttons of her blouse with his teeth.

She laughed, her slight movement throwing him momentarily off target. Undaunted, he returned immediately to his task as if he intended to chew through the thin fabric to get to her. Maneuvering one button open, he moved to tackle the next. The roughness of his unshaven chin rasped against her bare chest, and she shivered anticipating more. Deciding he could wait no longer, his mouth fastened on the peak of her breast. Warmth seeped through the silk and the insubstantial barrier of her bra. Within it Amber felt the flick of his tongue and moaned, deep and low in her throat.

With Grayson sitting on the corner of the desk, they were almost the same height, his body ripe for her plundering. AmberAEs hands slid over the roughness of his wool suit jacket, sliding down over his lapels, until she could reach in between the layers of wool and the smooth cotton of an expensive manAEs shirt. Muscles bunched beneath her questing fingers. Her small hands dipped lower, finding the waistband of his pants. Then, deciding it was all out of order, went to work on his tie instead.

The tight knot proved to be beyond her patience. She wanted to rip open his shirt beneath it. Large hands covered hers before she could destroy his clothing and came to her aid. Deftly, he worked the knot open, tossing the thin strip of material aside. Amber spread her fingers over the expanse of his chest, weaving them through the thick hair. Her mouth closed on the copper circle of his nipple. His chest rose then fell as he sighed and tugged her closer.

She followed his lead, sliding over to tease the other, then dipping lower with little nibbles, until she met the barrier of his belt.

Definitely beyond her skill. With a sigh of her own, she reached down to undo the silver buckle. But his hands captured hers. She brought her head up sharply, staring suddenly into the dark intensity of his desire.

oAmber....o

oMmm?o

oNot here,o he said quietly. oNot on NicoleAEs desk.o

Suddenly she regained her senses, remembering where they were, what had just happened. And the very real possibility that Barlow could return and find them like this.

But the joy of finding him truly hers, of finding someone in whom she could place her trust would not be contained. Amber kissed him, luring his attention back to her, to their celebration of sorts.

For a moment it seemed he could be persuaded. But then he moved gently, but firmly away. oNo, Amber, not after all the ugliness that happened here tonight.o

She felt the keen loss of him, of his warmth, his comfort and longed to replace it. oThereAEs that nice leather couch in your office.o

oThere is....o He hesitated, considering.

Amber pulled away from him, grasping his hand, ready to lure him in the direction of his office.

oAnd then again....o Grayson said pulling her back. oThereAEs also a nice couch in front of my fireplace at home.o

oThere is that.o

oAnd I have a nice ... wide bed to cuddle up in afterward--o

oDuring--o

Warm breath ruffled her hair as he chuckled. oBefore--o

oItAEs a long drive. I donAEt think I can wait that long.o

oPatience is a virtue, Ms. Shaw.o

With one hand Grayson felt blindly along the wall until he found the light switch and plunged the office into darkness.

oLetAEs go home, then. IAEll deal with the rest of this in the morning. Tonight is for us.o

His eyes searched for her coat, finding instead the empty hook on the wall. oDidnAEt you bring a coat?o

oItAEs on the floor of your closet.o

oWhat?o

He pulled away from her, with teasing little kisses, she urged him back. oTell you about it later.o

Amber waited while Grayson retrieved her coat from his closet floor and with a puzzled look draped it around her shoulders. Sheltered beneath his arm she walked the short distance to his Mercedes.

With her mind on the night ahead and her relief in winning back GraysonAEs love, Amber failed to consider the possibility that implicating Barlow might destroy the peace between them.

Chapter THIRTEEN

If Amber thought the offices of Barlow & Charles were untidy before, they were a disaster now.

John BarlowAEs obsessively ordered files lay in haphazard piles around the office as government auditors as well as the lawyers hired by Grayson and the law firm of Belaoussoff, Bekar, Karulis and Lacey struggled to determine whether or not a crime had been committed.

The phone rang incessantly with concerned clients calling for reassurance. Everyone wanted to talk to Grayson. A few called for Barlow, but with all his business transactions for the past few years under scrutiny, he was barred from the office.

Still no charges had been filed. Which meant that John Barlow was free to sit in his home office within reach of his telephone and spread rumors about his partner, Grayson Charles.

Which of course led to more phone calls, deeper investigation. More files strewn around the office of Barlow and Charles, more lines of worry etched in GraysonAEs face when he staggered home at night.

Grayson had Amber working full-time on his own investigation of Barlow, delving years into the past. What she suspected would be painful for him to deal with. HeAEd always thought BarlowAEs partnership was a congenial one. But if her hunch proved true, it had been Barlow who profited from the work of Gordon Charles and not the other way around. No wonder Grayson worried about his motherAEs retirement. No wonder heAEd felt pressured to work hard to strengthen his fatherAEs legacy. Amber suspected Barlow had been siphoning off money from Barlow and Charles from the very beginning.

All she needed was proof. Proof that would vindicate Grayson and his late father. Proof to hold John Barlow accountable for his crimes. ****

Amber stole a glance in her rearview mirror and frowned. There it was again, the same battered brown car that had dogged her since she left the city.

Merely another commuter, sheAEd assumed at first. Someone else taking the highway to one of the bedroom communities north of the city. But when sheAEd failed to lose him on the twisting country roads, now made slick by rain rapidly turning to ice, old instincts caused the hair on the back of her neck to prickle with anxiety.

She knew when she was being followed. SheAEd done it enough times herself to know the signs. Keep a few cars back. Change lanes to make it look random, closer now, then further away. And donAEt tail someone in a flashy car with vanity plates or theyAEll be sure to spot you.

Still, sheAEd noted the brown Ford with the chipped fender easily enough. If he turned off in the next five minutes, sheAEd chalk it up to nerves. If not, then she was definitely being followed and she wanted to know by whom.

Amber lifted her foot from the gas pedal, slowing enough to coast back a couple of car lengths, hoping to catch a glimpse of who was driving the Ford. But it pulled in behind an eighteen-wheeler disappeared from view.

Someone working for John Barlow maybe. But Barlow already knew Amber and Grayson were a couple. And being a partner in the firm, he would certainly know where Grayson lived.

A disquieting thought occurred to her. What if it wasnAEt anyone working for Barlow? Her shadow could be someone sheAEd angered. An enemy sheAEd made in Fair GameAEs day to day business of revenge.

In a divorce case the parties were too angry with each other to worry about the private investigator who took the incriminating pictures. But Fair Game brought things down to a personal level.

Had she angered someone enough to plan their own revenge? SheAEd assumed the vivisected mouse, the slashed tire and the angry note were ploys of John BarlowAEs to keep her away from Grayson and the secrets in the filing cabinets at Fair Game.

But what if they werenAEt?

The turnoff to GraysonAEs house wound away in the distance. Should she keep driving to throw the brown Ford off her trail?

The road narrowed to one meandering lane of traffic each way. Tearing her eyes from the slick pavement, Amber checked her mirror again, and caught a glimpse of brown, outlined against the line of bare trees by the side of the road. Still there, two cars back. She looked again at the turnoff, realizing with a sinking feeling that it led only to more secluded country roads before it reached GraysonAEs house. Private Investigator instincts went to work. A woman alone in a car could be easily forced off the road. Was that what the person in the car tailing intended? She had about two seconds to make her decision, or sheAEd be past the turnoff and committed to traveling more country roads alone.

In a splash of gravel and ice, the Ford pulled out from behind, racing against the on-coming traffic to pass her. A wave of dirty water stole her vision as it passed, destroying all chances of catching a glimpse of the driver.

When the wipers had cleared the windshield of muddy water, the battered Ford was no longer in view. Amber sagged against the seat in relief. Not following her after all.

Turning off the highway, she headed for the sanctuary of GraysonAEs house.

****

Hours later, and still Grayson hadnAEt arrived.

Amber lay in his loft bed, watching the play of candlelight across the sloping ceiling. Her laptop beeped, signaling the end of its battery power. Giving up on work, she turned off the computer.

According to the radio, freezing rain snarled traffic for miles. She hated to think what it had done to the hairpin turns that branched off from the highway. Crossing to the window, she gazed out into the darkness. No glow of headlights broke the woven blackness of trees and road. No distant rumble of a car motor could be heard above the staccato beat of ice pellets against the roof.

They should have both stayed at her apartment in town. But during the past few weeks sheAEd practically lived at GraysonAEs, and the arrangement seemed to suit him fine. Why didnAEt she just move in with him? he argued whenever the topic arose.

So why didnAEt she?

With a sigh, she took the ladder downstairs to make hot chocolate. It was obvious she wouldnAEt be getting any sleep until Grayson arrived home safely.

But her doubts followed her down to the kitchen. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the flames from the fireplace.

Doubts danced in their wake. She couldnAEt dispel the feeling that there was something left uncompleted, some vital clue in the investigation with Barlow that sheAEd overlooked. The answer to who might be following her, who she might have angered, lingered just beyond conscious reach. If she thought about it long enough, it would come to her. But the notion drifted away from her replaced by that other worry.

Commitment Phobia, Sandy had pronounced it. oItAEs your fear of repeating that last devastating relationship,o she insisted. Amber reflected darkly that RogerAEs intended deserved to be granted a doctorate in pop psychology in deference to the number of self-help books sheAEd devoured trying to lure the reluctant Roger to the altar. But maybe Sandy was right. Cold dread settled in her stomach every time she thought of saying aeI doAE.

Still that didnAEt explain the nightmares or the constant feeling of being watched. It didnAEt explain a lot of things, Amber thought taking the kettle off the stove.

The sound of a key in the lock nearly sent a wave of scalding water splashing across the floor.

oWhatAEs wrong?o Grayson asked, taking in the look of panic on her face, the kettle she brandished like a weapon. oYou look spooked.o

All those doubts, the tale of her harrowing trip home lingered on the tip of her tongue. Amber choked them back. Grayson looked exhausted. No sense worrying him until she knew for certain they were in danger. Spoken out loud it all sounded so ... paranoid.

oYou startled me, thatAEs all.o She tried to force some levity into her voice and failed.

Grayson didnAEt seem to notice. From the set of his jaw and the crease between his eyebrows, she could tell his worries about Barlow and Charles had followed him home.

oHot chocolate?o she asked.

He smiled weakly. oThanks, but I think I better just hit the sack.o

Brushing his lips briefly against her temple, he climbed the ladder to the loft and did just that.

Amber heard not a sound from him as she finished her hot chocolate. But when she climbed the ladder and slid back into his wide bed, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, spoon-like. She could feel the tension in him, his body taut, even though heAEd supposedly been asleep for half an hour.

oIAEve been thinking.-..o

Oh oh. Amber felt her stomach clench, ready to deal with another problem, another worry. Grayson never said heAEd been thinking, unless he had been thinking. About something important. About their future together, about the firm, either way it meant a heavy late-night discussion instead of reflecting on her paranoia in the sobering light of morning after a good nightAEs sleep.

She twisted around so she could see his face, then burrowed into the crook between his neck and shoulder. oGrayson, youAEre exhausted, you should go to sleep.o

He pulled her closer still. She felt every inch of tight muscle pressed against her. If he did that again, sheAEd lose the capacity for intellectual thought. oIAEve been thinking about us,o Grayson finished.

Her warm languid thoughts cooled into a tight knot in her stomach. But Grayson didnAEt seem to notice. Rough stubble brushed her ear as he buried his face in her hair. oI keeping thinking when all of this is over we should make this a permanent kind of arrangement. But then tonight when I was slogging through all the work that needed to be done yesterday, I got to thinking, why wait? YouAEre the one thing that is going right in my life.o

Yes! part of her cried out silently. Marry me, love me, protect me. She almost said the words, but then her breath caught in her chest. Her heart skipped a beat then resumed thudding rapid fire. She dragged in a breath past the constriction in her chest, knowing in some rational part of her mind it was only her body betraying her, acting out its warning she was in danger of being hurt.

Why did GraysonAEs proposal, something she desired more than anything else in the world feel so much like EricAEs rejection? Why when the man she loved had just proposed did she feel exactly as she felt when her fiancT betrayed her days before their wedding?

That old panic triggered new ones, tightening her chest further, stopping her from accepting GraysonAEs offer of a lifelong commitment to her.

Played out in her mind, she watched her father leave, saw his shape receding as he walked out the door. She heard her motherAEs bitter warning, oThatAEs what happens when you combine your destiny with a manAEs. You get hurt.o Amber squeezed her eyes shut, but the images just kept coming.

oItAEs just not working for me,o Eric leered from that dark spot in her mind where she kept her deepest hurt. She still had a silk and lace wedding dress in the back of her closet to show for her pain.

But Grayson is different, her heart insisted.

You thought Eric was different her mind replied. SheAEd trusted him, loved him, and in the end heAEd walked away with his new love leaving her with a broken heart, a failing business and a massive catering bill.

oAmber?o

She jolted back to her senses her heart still racing. Grayson looked intently into her face. How long had she kept him waiting for an answer to his proposal?

oA permanent kind of thing?o she asked, stalling to catch her breath. oLike moving in together?o

oA permanent kind of thing like moving in together permanently, forever.o

Calm down, she ordered herself. Her body refused to cooperate. She had to find a way out of this conversation to buy herself time to straighten out her tangled feelings. Time to relieve the terror that insisted this time she was setting herself up to be irretrievably hurt.

Because she loved Grayson. More than sheAEd ever loved anyone else in her life.

The crease between his eyebrows deepened. He drew the wrong conclusions from her silence, but she could barely spare oxygen to breathe instead of reassuring him.

oA permanent kind of thing, like getting married,o Grayson finished, as if she needed clarification.

They couldnAEt have this conversation now, not with her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her stomach clenched into a tight ball. She needed time to convince herself Grayson wasnAEt Eric. In desperation she settled on the first excuse that leapt to mind. oShould we be thinking about this now?o The words came out more harshly than she meant them to. oI mean weAEre both under so much stress. YouAEve got the problems at firm to deal with and my business isnAEt going well, except for the work youAEre giving me, and I donAEt know how much longer you can realistically afford to do that--o

oYes! I do think we should be discussing this now.o Amber could hear the hurt behind his anger and frustration. oI love you. I want you to be part of my life. Forever.o

oI love you, too. And I want to be part of your life, Grayson--o The knot in her stomach wound tighter. Grayson drew entirely the wrong conclusions. The argument snowballed rapidly out of control. Somehow she had to rectify the situation.

oBut what, Amber?o She heard the coldness seep into his tone as he put up barriers against the rejection he suspected was coming. oIf you donAEt want to marry me, you should just say.o

****

How could he have misread the situation so completely?

Grayson cursed himself silently. HeAEd mistaken AmberAEs contentment with their current situation as a sign she was ready for greater commitment. HeAEd assumed she shared his dreams for their future together. But instead of his surprise proposal being met with joy, Amber looked about to burst into tears at any moment.

Which could only mean like a fool heAEd risked his heart once again. Well, better to know now than later. Better to have this happen while everything else in his life was falling apart anyway. Grayson prepared himself to be hurt.

oI do want to marry you, Grayson.o

Her words cut into his thoughts. With her eyes brimming over with tears, she didnAEt look like she wanted to get married. He levered himself up on one elbow and turned on the light above the bed. oSo what is it then?o

oI--IAEd just like to talk about it in the morning thatAEs all. WeAEre both tired and stressed out--o

But tonight had held all the magic. When heAEd come home from the nightmare at Barlow & Charles to find her standing in his kitchen wearing that fuzzy robe, heAEd felt that somehow everything in his life would be all right. ThatAEs why heAEd offered such an impulsive proposal of marriage. Now he felt like a total fool. He wanted to cry himself. But he wouldnAEt, heAEd shamed himself enough already. Out of a desperate attempt to soothe his pain and put the situation to rights, he insisted, oIn the morning IAEll be right back in the middle of the mess in my office. I want to discuss it now.o

Tears spilled over onto her cheeks, tumbling like pearls onto the duvet. oYou donAEt understand,o she got out, then the words deteriorated into sobs.

Whatever it was, it broke her heart as well he realized, his anger evaporating. He reached for her, pulling her back into his arms. oWhat is it, Amber?o he forced himself to ask gently. oWhat donAEt I understand?o

oHow I feel.o She shuddered against him, struggling to say more.

His hand cupped the back of her head. He wound his fingers through her fiery curls, as though by pulling her closer he could somehow shield her from her hurts with his body. oYou can tell me, Amber. ItAEs all right.o

oIt sounds so foolish when I say it aloud,o she said. oI want to marry you, Grayson. I love you. IAEm just so afraid of--o

oOf what?o he prompted gently, when her words would have dissolved into tears again.

oOf getting hurt again.o

He opened his mouth to protest her image of him, but she continued.

oI know it doesnAEt sound much like the Fearless Amber Shaw Private Investigator, Avenger for the Lovelorn, but thatAEs just a stupid image I try to portray. Inside IAEm--o

oStill hurting,o he finished for her. oWeAEve both been hurt. But we have to find the strength to try again. ItAEs a hard thing to do, but I thought it was working between us. IAEm prepared to take the risk.o

oThis horrible fear I have,o she stammered, oI canAEt make it go away.o

oDonAEt you know that I love you, Amber?o Grayson asked, risking her rejection all over again.

oYes, but--o

If she loved him, she wouldnAEt have said aebutAE. If she truly loved him, she would have said aeyesAE emphatically. He prepared himself to hear the same string of excuses Melanie had given him. oItAEs not you itAEs me. You really are a nice guy, youAEll make some other woman happy.o

Self defense turned his pain to anger. How could she possibly compare him to that lout whoAEd deserted her? He wanted to ease her pain, but at the moment his own overwhelmed him.

oHow can you possibly think IAEd leave you after all weAEve been through together?o he heard himself demanding. oHow can you take the declaration of my love and just throw it back at me?o

AmberAEs mouth moved, but no sound came out. She buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, and he was dismayed to feel the hot wetness of her tears soaking the hair on his chest. Now what had he said? All heAEd wanted was confirmation of her love for him. An enthusiastic yes to his clumsy and ill-timed proposal. Somehow heAEd upset her deeply and damned if he knew how. It had always been that way. Roger had always instinctively understood the secret ways of women while Grayson had been obliviously ignorant.

oAmber.o His voice came out rough, as raw as his feelings. oI love you. I want you to be my wife. But if thatAEs not what you want, then you should tell me now.o

****

This wasnAEt how Amber wanted the conversation to go at all. GraysonAEs distress only intensified her own panic. oBut donAEt you see, Grayson?o she stammered past the vice around her chest and the lump in her throat. oAll the men in my life said they loved me. Eric, my father. But they were lying.o Her words sliced through the conversation. She heard GraysonAEs quick intake of breath and winced at her own clumsiness. Bad enough that sheAEd accused him of being untrustworthy, now sheAEd accused him of lying as well.

oOh God, thatAEs not what I meant,o she moaned. But he thrust her away from him to sit by herself along side him in bed.

oUnderstand one thing,o he said, and she could hear the protective coldness in his voice as he laid out his argument as if he was in court. oIAEm not Eric. IAEm not your father. IAEm not a dishonest man. I offer you my love freely. If you choose not to accept it, then I think youAEre right, we ought to discuss this in the morning.o

oBut Grayson--o If the thought of marrying Grayson made her heart pound, the thought of losing him sent a pang of anxiety through her entire body. Somehow, she had to think past her fears, find the right words before she damaged the fragile understanding between them completely.

But he stole the opportunity from her, turning out the light and putting his back to her.

oIn fact,o he said. oI donAEt think we have much to discuss at all.o

The hurt in his voice put an end to the conversation. SheAEd asked him for time, and time heAEd given her. So why did it hurt so much? Why did it feel like sheAEd lost something irretrievable? A manAEs trust, Amber thought lying silently beside him the dark, listening to the sound of his breathing and the rapid beat of rain. His body lay warm beside her, and she longed to snuggle back into his arms. It didnAEt help when a few hours later, Grayson rolled over in his sleep and drew her closer. Did that mean she was forgiven? That even in his sleep he somehow understood?

****

Morning dashed her hopes of reconciliation.

Their late night discussion caused them both to sleep late. Cursing at the alarm clock theyAEd slept through, Grayson showered quickly and left the house without breakfast, offering her no more than a curt, oTalk to you later,o on his way out the door.

Amber sat at the kitchen table with a cup of the coffee sheAEd made for him cooling in her hands. Like their argument, last nightAEs storm had passed. Weak sunlight streamed through the high windows casting watery yellow streaks across the floor. But unlike the weather, the argument with Grayson only served to muddy things instead of clearing the air. Amber sighed. She should get dressed and go to work, do what she could to salvage Fair Game, Inc. from insolvency. She should do something other than sitting at GraysonAEs table. But she couldnAEt seem to pry herself from the chair.

What would she have without Grayson? she asked herself bitterly. The same as she had when her relationship with Eric had broken up, her mind answered. A failing business and a lifetime of loneliness stretching before her. Only this time it hadnAEt been Eric whoAEd destroyed the relationship. She had done that herself.

oBatting a thousand here, arenAEt we Amber,o she whispered. She wondered idly if she should take her clothes and toothbrush with her when she left today.

Tears stung her eyes, but she sniffed them back, determined to do what she could today to fix the situation as best she could. If things couldnAEt be mended with Grayson, then she had to find a way to salvage Fair Game, Inc. Amber Shaw, Private Investigator did not go down without a fight.

But somehow knowing Grayson had dampened her joy in taking revenge. Getting even on behalf of the lovelorn no longer held the appeal it once had. The thought of spending another moment dwelling on the dark side of love started her heart pounding all over again. Last nightAEs panic attack took the strength from her spine, leaving each limb feeling as if sheAEd run a marathon. DawnAEs gray light tinged the sky by the time sheAEd fallen asleep.

Grimacing around a mouthful of cold coffee, she dumped what was left in the sink and went upstairs to get dressed. Her problems would not be solved by sitting at GraysonAEs kitchen table, Amber rebuked herself.

SheAEd go into work, make an appointment to see her accountant, discuss what could be done about the companyAEs flagging receivables. Perhaps the act of sitting at her desk would nudge her mind toward a solution.

Somehow sheAEd find a way to save both Fair Game and her relationship with Grayson.

Chapter FOURTEEN

Amber shivered in the frigid air of early dusk. Last nightAEs storm had passed, leaving the air clear and crisp with the promise of frost to come. The premature sunset had stolen the last of the sunAEs warming rays. Dried husks of leaves rattled across the sidewalk.

Late autumn always brought depression. The brief days, the bare stalks of trees gray against the sky cast her in a somber mood. Flagging business at Fair Game and the mess at Barlow and Charles amounted to a staggering list of problems. Topped off by her argument with Grayson and her unwanted shadow, it was far too much for one person, Amber decided.

And that was before the meeting with her accountant.

Another month, heAEd warned her. If things didnAEt improve by Christmas, sheAEd be closing the doors of Fair Game forever. Most people didnAEt have an urgent need for Private Investigators in December, she thought darkly. They were too busy enjoying the holiday.

The prospect of another heart-wrenching talk with Grayson only served to sour her mood further. Somehow she had to mend the rift between them, find the words that would make it all right when all others had failed.

That, or spend another Christmas eating a turkey TV dinner alone.

But Grayson had been out when she arrived. A thick file folder and a list of scrawled instructions greeted her instead. The disorder at the firm only nagged at her already frazzled thoughts. The offices of Barlow & Charles were no place to have a personal conversation, Amber decided. Leaving a note for Grayson to call her later, she gathered up the folder and headed for her own apartment.

Rush hour traffic had appropriated most of the curb side parking when she had arrived, forcing Amber to park several blocks from GraysonAEs office. She didnAEt mind the walk in the brisk sun of afternoon, but the empty sidewalks seemed somehow sinister in the thickening darkness.

Dark thoughts occupied so much of her mind, Amber almost missed the soft patter on the pavement behind her. She slowed her pace, listening again for the soft tread of rubber soled shoes behind her.

Events swirled in her mind, the pieces of the puzzle taking shape. The dead mouse, the flat tire, mysterious car following her home, the constant sense of being followed. What was the common piece of the puzzle? What buried clue had she missed?

A stone ricocheted off the payment behind her. She heard a smothered curse.

Not again, she prayed silently. Not tonight when IAEm already tired.

She listened intently, straining to hear over the rattle of leaves against the sidewalk. Sure enough--nearly buried beneath the rough hiss of the leaves, she heard the regular tread of footsteps moving toward her.

Amber squinted into the shadows between the streetlights. Her car was parked in the next block. Rummaging in her purse, her fingers closed around the cold metal of her keys, as much to use as a weapon as a quick entry to her car. Trying to appear nonchalant, she glanced behind her.

Just in time to see a shadow dart into the darkness between buildings.

Amber crossed the street. The beat of footsteps against the pavement followed, closer now. She picked up speed. The tempo of footsteps quickened. Instinct screamed at her to run.

She cast a quick glance behind her and caught a glimpse of black upon black. Black trench coat, black pants and shoes, black where his face should have been. Streetlights picked up the glint of eyes in the darkness, the flash of his teeth.

Giving up on decorum, Amber raced down the pavement. Another few feet and sheAEd reach the sanctuary of her car. She brandished her car keys, ready to use them as a weapon if need be.

She raced to the driverAEs side of her car, fumbled the key into the lock. She wrenched the door open, half fell inside.

A frighteningly strong hand gripped her shoulder and hauled her back. The wool of his ski mask brushed her cheek. Amber spun, bringing the cold arc of her keys down where she guessed his face to be. She felt the impact as the metal tore through wool, cutting into the skin beneath.

Uttering a harsh curse, her assailant wrenched her arm behind her.

oDo that again,o he hissed, his breath hot against her cheek. Her stomach lurched at the smell of garlic mixed with whiskey. oAnd IAEll snap your little arm like a twig.o He gave it a twist to make sure she understood. Shoving her arm further, counting on pain to hold her to the spot, he fumbled with something in the pocket of his trench coat.

Broken arm or no, she didnAEt intend to obey him. Raising her leg, she brought the heel of her boot down on his instep with as much strength as she could summon.

A howl of pain told her sheAEd hit her mark. His grip loosened. Amber scrambled away from him and dove toward the still open door of her car. If she could just get herself into the car, get the door locked, perhaps she could still escape. Drive to the nearest police station and plead her case.

She heard the scrape of his shoes against the asphalt behind her before she felt the impact. Then she sprawled face down in the road, grazing palms and knees. His weight knocked the breath from her lungs. Amber heaved against him, desperation lending her strength.

But she was no match for the thick cloth that covered her face or the sickening chemical smell that dragged her down into unconsciousness. **** Darkness, pure and absolute. Concrete pressed against her, stiffening every muscle with its penetrating cold. Awareness brought a surge of panic.

With a desperate surge of will, Amber brought her body under control. Rough cloth scraped against her lashes as her eyelids flickered and she realized her eyes were already open and that a thick layer of burlap blocked her vision.

More of the cloth was stuffed into her mouth. Its foul taste made her retch, but she shook off the reflex. No sense alerting whoever watched her that she had regained consciousness. Amber moved her lips testing the gag and finding her mouth bound with something sticky and immovable. Duct tape, she thought, occupying her mind with inventory to keep the panic at bay.

A stab of pain lanced through her wrist. Moving her fingers, she found her hands bound with metal handcuffs that cut into the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrists. No way sheAEd be wiggling out of that, she thought, testing them. Her feet had gone to sleep long ago, but even through the pins and needles, she could tell her legs were just as securely bound with coarse rope.

Wet smells of rot and decay penetrated the cloth. A basement, she deduced. That would explain the dampness and the concrete. She forced herself to take shallow breaths around the gag and not give in to the urge to scream. Not that it would do any good.

Straining her ears, she picked out only the sound of water dripping somewhere. No one moving, no one breathing. Where ever she was, it seemed she was quite alone.

Dust clogged her throat. Amber gasped for breath, trying to lever herself into a sitting position. Instead, she caught only a mouthful of musty cloth. She landed on her side, gaining only a nasty smack on the side of her head for her efforts. She dragged in a breath, drawing the burlap taut against her nostrils. She choked around a mouthful of cloth, dust burning her lungs. Her chest heaving in an attempt to fill itself with air, Amber fought for control of her breathing.

Her mind spiraled off into a number of unsavory scenarios, embellishing sickening thoughts of what a man could do to a woman bound, gagged and blindfolded. She had no idea where she was. Her last recollection was of the fight by her car. Drugged, she had no sense of how much time had passed, how far he could have been taken. She could be miles from home. She might be miles from civilization.

Memories flooded her mind. She remembered running, falling a manAEs weight pressed against her, his breath hot against her ear.

IAEll break your little arm like a twig. Familiarity burned in her mind. Something in the inflection of his words, the bald cruelty in his tone nagged at her memory. Amber worked her mind around the problem. Who did she know who prided himself on his ruthlessness?

Amber forced herself to remember every syllable in their brief exchange, every loathsome touch of him. Somewhere in those last few minutes of consciousness lay the answer to the riddle. It had to be someone who knew her, who had reason to bear a grudge against her.

Or she could simply be the random choice of a maniac or a serial killer, her mind suggested with another surge of panic. Amber reined in her escaping thoughts. In spite of her terror and physical discomfort, she had to solve the riddle. Because she didnAEt know how much time sheAEd have until that someone returned.

A sudden thought brought stinging tears to her eyes.

She never had the chance to tell Grayson she was sorry. He might never know what had happened to her.

He may never know she loved him.

****

oAmber!o

Grayson knocked again on her apartment door. When his pounding died into silence, he put his ear to the door and listened. Nothing. No television or radio playing, no sounds of activity at all.

He glanced again at the note in his hand. Working at my place tonight, sheAEd written. This morning heAEd been unable to think past his hurt and embarrassment over her rejection of his proposal of marriage. Another client pulling out of Barlow & Charles hadnAEt improved his disposition. By the time Amber arrived at the firm, heAEd been too tired and stressed out to make more than a brief effort of conversation.

But as the evening wore on, he grew lonely for her company. As his anger dissipated, he found himself wondering if sheAEd acted out of her own hurt and the still stinging memory of that last rejection. A phone call only reached her answering machine. He couldnAEt reach her at Fair Game either. HeAEd returned to Barlow & Charles to find her hastily scrawled note. Working at home....

Arriving at her building, he couldnAEt shake the feeling something was very wrong. A glance at her apartment showed him only darkness, the drapes open. Not an Amber kind of thing to do. She bordered on obsessive about locking doors and drawing blinds. Perhaps sheAEd gone back to Fair Game, or out to grab a late dinner.

As he raised his fist for one last knock, the door across the hall swung open. Grayson groaned.

oYou again!o snarled a male voice behind him.

Grayson turned slowly, holding his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. He met the bristling gaze of AmberAEs neighbor. Chris, Amber had called him. Killer was more apt, Grayson mused. The guy had no neck.

oHave you seen Amber?o he asked in the most conversational tone he could manage.

oYou slow or something, buddy?o Killer, or rather Chris, demanded. oSheAEs through with you.o

oShe told you that?o Grayson asked incredulously.

oShe donAEt answer the door, she donAEt want to talk to you,o Chris said, as if that made perfect sense.

oYou donAEt understand. She told me sheAEd be here. She told me to come over.o Grayson tried not to choke on the lie. HeAEd assumed her note was invitation to try to make peace between them. Perhaps heAEd jumped to the wrong conclusion.

oYou sure about that, pal?o Leaning against the door, Chris crossed beefy arms. oPretty little woman living alone like that canAEt be too careful. What with all them stalkers and perverts wandering the streets.o

oIAEm not a pervert,o Grayson insisted. oIAEm a lawyer.o

oSame difference the way I see it.o

Grayson crossed his arms, mirroring KillerAEs posture. The conversation deteriorated out of his control. But he couldnAEt leave without finding out whether Amber had been home yet tonight. oIAEm also her fiancT,o he said, playing his last card.

oSo, why donAEt she want to talk to you?o

oShe does want to talk to me,o he ground out through clenched teeth. oBut sheAEs not here. And IAEm worried about her.o

oHavenAEt seen her,o Chris said and shut the door to his apartment.

oWhy didnAEt you just say so?o Grayson snarled after him.

The door swung open again.

oHurt that girl the way her last fiancT did, and weAEll be having a little talk. Understand, Bud?o

Before Grayson could answer, the door slammed shut.

****

Her fingers had gone numb. Whether from loss of circulation or cold Amber couldnAEt tell. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, gnawed at her nerves. Thinking back, she couldnAEt be certain when sheAEd last eaten. After the late night argument with Grayson, sheAEd been too distracted for breakfast. She remembered grabbing a bagel mid-afternoon. No wonder her stomach rumbled, adding to the litany of other discomforts. Shoulder muscles screamed in agony at the strain of having her arms bound behind her back. Amber shifted on the damp concrete, trying to find a more comfortable position, and failed.

Straining against the handcuffs, only served to rub another raw streak across her wrists.

The rattle of car wheels against gravel outside made her cease her efforts. She heard the muffled sound of a car door slamming, followed by the jingle of keys. Footsteps crossed the floor above. Heavy boots, she deduced. No leather soled shoes for her captor. Someone who worked in construction, she thought putting her mind behind the problem. Or someone who couldn't afford upscale clothes.

Footsteps paused above her, listening. The screech of rusty hinges tore the silence. Stairs creaked beneath his weight.

Someone heavy set. Amber added that item to her inventory. That would rule out John Barlow, she thought. Unless of course Barlow hired someone to do his dirty work for him.

Boots scuffed against the uneven floor. Amber held her breath, afraid to give away the fact that she was conscious, thinking.

A steel toe connected with her ribs. She grunted in spite of herself.

oSit up,o a voice barked. oI know youAEre awake.o

That voice! His words spiraled through her mind. She knew that voice. Not John BarlowAEs, but someone else she knew.

oI canAEt sit up,o she tried to say around the gag and the layers of burlap. But it came out as no more than a pitiful moan.

oA little out of our element now, arenAEt we, Amber?o He uttered a grating laugh, too high for a manAEs voice. Not a pleasant sound at all, she decided. He had the kind of personality that instantly rubbed people the wrong way. She did know someone like that, but her mind refused to make the connection. oKind of like a fish out of water, arenAEt we?o he prompted. She also hated people who referred to themselves in the plural. oOr should I say a piranha out of water?o

Who referred to women as piranhas? Someone who wasnAEt comfortable with women, obviously.

Amber cycled through her memories of the past few weeks. Barlow? Not quite his style, she decided. John Barlow, if nothing else, was well educated, exacting in his speech. But GraysonAEs soon to be ex-partner was also a man under a great deal of strain at the moment. Amber filed Barlow away as a possibility.

Someone sheAEd taken revenge against? Mentally, she shuffled through the lovers of her recent clients.

Roger?

No Roger had a better sense of humor when it came to his own failings. Besides he and Sandy were back together, and supposedly headed for the altar. According to Sandy anyway.

The guy from apartment four?

If his ex-girlfriend hadnAEt spilled the beans, number four would never know Amber had been involved. There had to be another explanation. Something obvious she was overlooking.

oWhatAEs the matter?o Her captiveAEs voice cut into her thoughts. oHas the little wolverine run out of things to say?o

Wolverine, she thought. An odd word to use. Revealing that even though she was tied up, he considered himself at a disadvantage. Familiarity teased her mind, his identity lingering just beyond reach.

oHungry?o her captor asked. AmberAEs stomach rumbled obligingly.

Paper rustled as he unwrapped what she assumed to be a chocolate bar. Anything, her stomach urged.

But instead of removing the bag over her head or undoing her gag, she heard the wet sounds of chewing. He smacked his lips, more wet sounds as he licked his fingers.

Her stomach contracted painfully, accepting that food would be denied. She heard him crumple the wrapper in his fist. The paper fell to the floor, rolling to rest against her arm.

oMmm, that was good.o Definitely not John Barlow, Amber decided. Barlow was so obsessively neat he would never have tossed the wrapper on the floor. **** oYouAEre acting paranoid.o Roger dumped espresso grounds into the trash compactor. oShe probably just went out for dinner.o

oShe said sheAEd be home.o Grayson took the cappuccino he didnAEt want and headed for the living room.

oMaybe sheAEs trying to make you suffer a little. Women do that kind of thing,o Roger offered.

Coming here had been a mistake, Grayson thought. Roger was worse than useless when it came to advice about the female of the species. Still, he couldnAEt dispel the sense of wrongness that had come over him when Amber hadnAEt answered her phone. oAmberAEs not a game-playing kind of woman,o he said finally.

oAll women play games,o Roger pronounced. oItAEs part of the mating dance.o

oThe--o Grayson bit back the ugly retort lingering on the tip of his tongue. oSave the pop psychology, Roger. SomethingAEs happened to Amber. I just know it.o

oMaybe she had a change of plans and didnAEt tell you because she knew you were mad at her and probably wouldnAEt be speaking to her anyway.o

oThatAEs just not like her,o Grayson insisted. oAnd besides, sheAEs not at home. SheAEs not at the office, she didnAEt go back to my place. I canAEt find her anywhere.o His voice rose in tune with his anxiety. oIAEll never forgive myself if somethingAEs happened to her.o

oOkay,o Roger said, holding up a hand. oLetAEs talk about what we know. SheAEs not at home like she said sheAEd be. Was her car there?o

oI didnAEt think to look for her car,o Grayson admitted.

oSome private eye youAEd make.o

Setting down his coffee cup hard enough to slosh liquid over the rim, ignoring RogerAEs worried glance, Grayson jumped to his feet. oIAEll go check out the car.o oWhoa!o Roger said, getting to his feet as well. oIf youAEre that upset, IAEd better come with you. Then we can check out twice as many places.o **** Grayson stared at the white sign above the empty parking place.

Reserved for Fair Game, Inc.

oDoesnAEt look like she went back to the office.o He had been hoping to find her car in its allotted spot and an apologetic Amber sitting at the chrome desk in her glass office. The car was missing, the office sat in darkness, and building security was getting more than a little suspicious of the two men asking questions.

Grayson would have pressed for more questions. But Roger grasped him by the shoulder and said, oLetAEs do a quick drive by of her apartment. Maybe sheAEs home by now.o

RogerAEs cellular phone only netted him another message on AmberAEs machine. His anxiety grew with every passing second. He shouldnAEt have fought with her. He should have listened, tried to understand. But he hadnAEt, and theyAEd parted in the morning angry with each other. If anything happened to her, heAEd never forgive himself.

AmberAEs red Honda wasnAEt in its allotted parking space. Even from the sidewalk he could tell the drapes in her living room were open and the apartment dark. He didnAEt want to risk another run in with Chris, the wrestler from across the hall. Not with Roger along. Roger would shoot off his mouth and get them both killed. Grayson had the feeling even Roger and he combined wouldnAEt be a match for the solid wall of muscle that AmberAEs neighbor called a chest.

But tonight Roger acted quite uncharacteristically. Roger was the one keeping his head for a change.

oMaybe she went back to your office,o Roger said with a worried glance in GraysonAEs direction. oGray?o

Grayson came to his senses with a start, realizing heAEd been staring up at AmberAEs apartment for several minutes now, saying nothing.

oWorth a try.o Picking up RogerAEs cell phone, he dialed the offices of Barlow & Charles.

His own voice answered, prompting him to leave a brief message including the time of his call. He slammed the phone shut.

Usually Roger would berate him for abusing one of his new gadgets, but Roger merely shot him another of those sideways glances and remained silent.

Grayson wasnAEt sure he liked this new Roger. The old one had been far more predictable.

The Honda wasnAEt parked at any of the meters in front of Barlow & Charles. Nor did they find it in the pricey lot in the next block. Another lead turning up empty. Amber was the private investigator, Grayson thought glumly. SheAEd have a plan of action. Amber would know where else to look. Grayson found himself at loss as to what to do next.

oMaybe we should call the police.o Roger swung the Porsche into traffic. Grayson scanned the quiet streets for signs of AmberAEs car, his heart sinking as the blocks passed. oI mean, sheAEs hours late now--o

oWait!o

Roger slammed on the brakes. The Porsche responded, nearly standing on its end. GraysonAEs seat belt jerked him backward.

oWhat?o Roger asked, plainly startled. He glanced in the mirror to make sure he was in no danger of being rear-ended. The street was quiet.

oI thought I saw something, under that tree back there.o Grayson pointed to a shadowed spot on a short block behind them. A lane branched off from the road, running behind the office buildings. Roger drew the Carrera around in a sharp turn and pulled up beside.

At first there was nothing unusual about the ancient red Civic parked alone on the street. But as they drew nearer, Grayson made out the deeper shadow of a door left ajar. He felt his heart pounding as if heAEd been running as they reached the car.

oIs it hers?o Roger asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Turning his head to see in dim light, Grayson scanned the license plate. oFG 1,o he said, noting AmberAEs vanity plates. oItAEs hers all right.o

oDamn,o he heard RogerAEs quiet curse.

Steeling himself for what he might find inside, Grayson crept up to the car door and wrenched it open.

oShould you do that?o Roger asked. oI mean, if the police--o He fell abruptly silent.

oI have to know,o Grayson said. And forced himself to look into the shadowed interior.

Empty.

He let his breath go in a rush. At least she wasnAEt tied up inside, murdered or worse---

Grayson reined in his imagination. He felt RogerAEs hand on his shoulder, watched as Roger dipped his head to scan the interior. Felt Roger heave that same sigh of relief.

But then Roger said, oWhat about the trunk?o And his wild imagination leapt back into gear. The glare Grayson offered his brother made Roger take a step backward. oOkay, okay. Hang on, let me get my flashlight and weAEll have a look around.o

Still, he couldnAEt get the image of Amber suffocating in the HondaAEs cramped trunk out of his mind. It looked too small to hold even someone as slight as Amber, but now that Roger had mentioned it, he had to be sure.

RogerAEs flashlight cast a shifting pool of gold, as he walked toward him. A spattering of glass sparkled against the tarmac. Grayson glanced absently at it. Beneath the Honda, he caught another flash of silver.

oWait a minute,o he said, practically snatching the flashlight from RogerAEs hands. Shining it under the Honda he saw the silver outline of a ring of keys.

He sprawled out on the road, reaching a long arm under the car, heedless of the oil and glass on the road. Extending his fingers as far as he could reach, his hand closed on cold metal. Gingerly he picked them up, knowing he was tampering with evidence. If AmberAEs body was crammed in the HondaAEs trunk, he had to know.

Holding the key by its rubber grip with two fingers, he slid it into the lock. The trunk popped open, revealing a set of booster cables, a first aid kit and AmberAEs 35mm camera.

oWell, at least sheAEs not in the trunk,o Roger said.

****

oLetAEs you and me have a little chat.o AmberAEs captor kicked the chocolate bar wrapper out of the way and walked toward her. Heedless of her aching shoulders or her abused wrists, he hauled her head up. That only served to put more pressure on her back and shoulder, unable to bear any of her weight with her hands and legs bound. She winced, but refused to cry out, just in case he was one of those sadistic maniacs who enjoyed causing pain.

He wedged her head between his knees, facing outward so she couldnAEt see him, and lifted the burlap enough to rip the tape from her mouth. Pale light flashed across her vision. She caught a glimpse of a large concrete room. The wan light of a flashlight did nothing to illuminate the thickly shadowed corners. She spat the foul tasting cloth from her mouth. Ignoring the pain in her neck, she twisted to see her captorAEs face.

oNot so fast.o Strong hands wrenched her head back around. Burlap covered her face once more. He released her, letting her fall awkwardly back to the floor.

oWho are you?o

Grating laughter answered her question. oSome PI you are, Ms Shaw if you canAEt figure that one out.o

Well, Amber reasoned. She hadnAEt expected him to tell her. She merely hoped heAEd be caught off guard enough to answer. Biting back a nasty retort that could only worsen the situation, she said, oI know you, donAEt I?o

His laughter died into silence. oOh, you never had much time for me, Ms Shaw.o

Never had much time for me. What did that mean? Until now, sheAEd assumed her captor was either John Barlow or some creature heAEd hired so he wouldnAEt have to dirty his hands in the business of revenge. It stood to reason it would be Barlow. Investigative lore maintained the most likely suspect was the one who was most desperate. The person with the most to lose. All leads led back to John Barlow. Barlow had his house, his firm and his reputation at stake. Barlow had embezzled money from GraysonAEs firm for over twenty years. Barlow desperately wanted to keep his dark secret safe.

But now that the secret had been blown wide open, did Barlow want revenge upon the woman responsible?

Amber would bet her paycheck on it. That didnAEt explain the comment, you never had much time for me.

So it was someone she knew. Someone who held a grudge for a perceived snub. oYouAEre someone whoAEs angry with me,o she ventured.

oAnd youAEre wondering why, arenAEt you?o

She nodded. The burlap scratched against the cloth of her jacket.

oYouAEd like me to tell you, wouldnAEt you?o

Amber nodded again.

oIAEm not going to do that, sweetheart.o He drawled out the endearment, making it sound more like a curse. oItAEs such a rare treat for me to see the great Amber Shaw at a loss.o

Sweetheart. Someone had called her that. Recently.

oYou want me to suffer,o she stated as matter-of-factly as she could. oWhy?o

oBecause you made me suffer, Amber. Figure it out. Make the connection, girl. You made me suffer, and you donAEt even remember.o

She had made John Barlow suffer. But not in the personal way her captor seemed to suggest. And if he wasnAEt Barlow or in BarlowAEs hire, then that left her without a point of reference. No where to start, she thought fighting back another wave of panic.

oIf I hurt you, IAEm sorry,o she ventured.

oNaw, youAEre not, Amber Babe. You never gave a damn about me. You thought the whole world was yours to pick and choose from. Did you think you could keep on taking what wasnAEt yours and get away with it?o

oWhat wasnAEt mine?o Amber blurted, anger getting the better of her. oIAEve never stolen a thing in my life. In spite of the fact that life has done a good deal of stealing from me!o Now what on earth made her say that, she wondered.

oOh right,o came that disembodied voice. Closer now, bending over her. The smell of garlic penetrated the burlap. oDaddy ran away when you were little. And even your ex-fiancT decided he couldnAEt live with you.o

The barb startled her into silence. oBut how--o

oLearn from my example, Amber Babe. I know how to do my research.o

Panic struggled for control. Amber fought it back. Telling herself it wasnAEt a matter of the heart they were discussing here, but the cold reality of what might be her murder, she allowed the rational private investigator side of her personality free rein.

Someone had called her sweetheart recently. Someone she had no time for. Someone who also called her babe with the same sickening results. Someone sheAEd taken something from.

oThanks for the other day, babe.o The words seared through her memory. Panic got the better of her. Her heart pounded furiously. Breath choked in her throat.

Suddenly, Amber had the most awful suspicion who her captor was.

Chapter FIFTEEN

Grayson slammed the trunk shut and leaned against AmberAEs car.

oWhat now?o Roger asked.

oNow I find the bastard that did this to her, and--o

oAnd what?o Roger gripped him by the shoulders. oWeAEve found her car abandoned, and her keys lying on the pavement. But we donAEt know for sure that someoneAEs done anything to her. We should go to the police and get them working on the case. Now, before itAEs too late.o

oIt might already be too late, Roger.o Grayson shook off his hands and paced away from him. oBy the time the cops get working on it, Amber could be dead.o

oWe donAEt know for certain sheAEs in danger.o

oI do. The facts are staring you right in the face. It doesnAEt look to me like Amber decided to have dinner with a friend so suddenly that she left her car door open and threw her keys under the car for safe keeping.o

oNo,o Roger conceded. oBut who would want to hurt Amber?o

oGood question.o Grayson stopped pacing. oOne name springs readily to mind.o

oWho?o Roger asked cautiously.

oJohn Barlow.o

oBarlow!o Roger held up a hand. oNow Gray, this is sounding just a little too wild for my liking.o

oThink about it, Little Brother. Old Jumpy JohnAEs got this great scam going here. HeAEs been scamming money from Barlow & Charles since we were kids. And he nearly got away with selling a nearly bankrupt firm and making a tidy profit. He would have gotten away with it if it werenAEt for Amber Shaw.o

oOkay, IAEm with you there. But number one,o Roger counted the points off on his fingers. oIt hasnAEt been proven yet that Old Barlow was embezzling. Depending on what your investigators find, he could be suing you for defamation of character, slander--o

oThat charge would never stick,o Grayson muttered. oBarlowAEs been stealing money. IAEd bet on it. I just canAEt believe I was so blind I didnAEt see it.o

oAssuming heAEs guilty and really mad at Amber for seeing through his ploy and bringing the law down on him, that still doesnAEt mean heAEs crazy enough to ... to what, Gray? Kidnap her? What would that get him?o

oI donAEt know,o Grayson snarled. oBut I intend to find out.o

Roger snatched at his sleeve as he rushed past him and yanked him back. oBefore you go charging up to BarlowAEs house and making a scene, why donAEt we spend two seconds considering if there might be any other likely suspects.o

oLike who?o

oOne of her former clientAEs ex-beaus maybe.o

oI told her this revenge thing was dangerous!o Grayson said. And told her he had. When his warnings had gone unheeded, heAEd given her work at Barlow and Charles, figuring if he could keep Fair Game in the black, Amber would turn away from the business of revenge.

oShe sure made you mad enough at her,o RogerAEs voice cut into his thoughts. oMad enough to sue her.o

Like he needed a reminder about that just now. Grayson opened his mouth for a quick retort, but his conscience wouldnAEt let him forget that he had been furious with Ms. Amber Shaw, proprietor of Fair Game, Inc. Angry enough to take her to court. Amber wielded the power to yank his emotions in every direction--love, anger, tenderness, sometimes all three combined.

oDo you know who any of her clients were?o

oBeside Sandy, no. SheAEs keeps that information confidential.o

oSo weAEre back to Barlow.o

Grayson shot him a sideways glance. oUnless you can pick a lock?o

Roger motioned to the ring of keys he still clutched in his hand, as if by holding them tight, he could somehow protect Amber. oBet we wonAEt have to. Bet the key to her office is right on that key ring.o

oNo, weAEve lost too much time already. You go to Fair Game and see if you can get a few of those names and addresses. IAEm going to go wake up Old Barlow.o

oMaybe I should come with you.o

oWe donAEt have time,o Grayson strode back toward RogerAEs car, intending to drive off with the Porsche himself if Roger didnAEt hurry up.

Instead he found Roger right behind him. oOkay, Gray, IAEll see what I can do. But if this doesnAEt work, weAEve got to go to the police.o

It would work, Grayson thought. If Barlow knew where Amber was, if this was another of his partnerAEs devious ploys, heAEd have the answer out of him one way or another.

oDonAEt do anything at BarlowAEs that could get you thrown in jail, okay?o Roger warned. oThatAEs not going to help Amber. Promise youAEll keep your head about this.o

oSure, I promise,o Grayson said. Roger took one look at his face and turned away with a shake of his head that said he believed anything but. With a sigh, his twin turned the Porsche in the direction of BarlowAEs house.

****

Barlow lived in a more elegant house than the one Grayson had grown up in. But then John Barlow always had nicer things than Gordon Charles, Grayson thought as Roger turned down the winding lane. It had never occurred to him to wonder why.

oLet me out here,o he said when Roger would have driven right up to the front door.

oYou sure about this?o his twin asked, plainly worried.

oIAEm just going to talk to him, Roger. Not punch him out. Although,o he admitted, othe thought had occurred to me.o

oIAEd better wait.o

oYouAEd better get those names,o he said in a tone that offered no argument.

oJust remember what it would do to Mom if you ended up in jail,o Roger warned. And drove off.

As he walked up the path, Grayson saw the edge of the curtain drop back into place. It was past midnight. He wondered if Barlow would open the door to him. He hadnAEt considered what heAEd do if his partner refused to see him.

But the door swung open as he mounted the last of the steps.

oWhat do you want?o Barlow snapped.

In the dim light he barely recognized his partner. In the past few weeks, the older man had dropped a considerable amount of weight, leaving his cheeks hollowed, his face gaunt. His self-assured, arrogant manner was gone, but the hunger that burned still in his piercing eyes was the same. A desperate man, Grayson thought with an inward shudder. HeAEd called John Barlow uptight, jumpy, never realizing what that look really meant.

oI want to know where she is.o

oWhere who is?o Barlow asked, knowing well enough Grayson could only mean Amber.

oYou know damned well who.o Grayson heard his own voice rising and made an effort to calm himself. Barlow would find a way to use his own desperation against him.

oRegrettably, I donAEt have a clue what youAEre talking about,o Barlow said, making no move to invite Grayson in. With his body, he blocked the doorway, leaving Grayson to stand awkwardly on the step.

Fine, if that was how he wanted to play it. oIAEm talking about Amber Shaw.o Grayson enunciated her name carefully, playing BarlowAEs game, making sure there could be no misunderstanding.

John Barlow looked truly surprised. oIn what delusion would you think IAEd have any idea where the incorrigible Ms. Shaw is?o

oDonAEt play games with me, John. I know you hired that PI to try and split us up.o

oEven if I did,o Barlow held up a hand, oand IAEm not saying I did, why would you think IAEd have any idea as to her whereabouts?o

Accusation hung in the air between them. If you canAEt control your mistress, Barlow had warned him.

oBecause sheAEs missing,o Grayson spat out. In spite his promise to Roger, he found the urge to deck John Barlow intensifying. All manner of awful things could have happened to Amber and John Barlow insisted on playing games, toying with Grayson to prolong his discomfort. He longed to do something physical, just to relieve his own frustration and the terrible fear that Amber was in danger.

oYou mean she left you?o Amusement colored BarlowAEs tone. Grayson ignored it. If he so much as glanced at his estranged partnerAEs smug face, he would hit him. Then Roger would be bailing him out of jail, and God knew what would happen to Amber.

oI mean sheAEs been abducted. We found her car abandoned.o

oI dare say the police would serve you better than I,o Barlow said in that same dry tone.

oI thought--o The words were out of his mouth before he could call them back.

oYou thought what?o Barlow raised an eyebrow. oThat I kidnapped your disagreeable girlfriend? For what purpose, Grayson?o He uttered his partnerAEs name like a curse. oTo buy back the damage sheAEs done to my reputation? You better be building a damned good case against me, Mr. Charles, because I intend to see you in court!o

ThatAEs exactly how Barlow intended to hold onto the house he bought with money embezzled from the firm, Grayson thought bitterly, with the proceeds from his slander suit against Grayson Charles.

GraysonAEs arm shot out, preventing Barlow from slamming the door in his face. oIf itAEs really true that you know nothing about AmberAEs disappearance, how about letting me in to have a look around?o

oIf you want a look inside, get a search warrant!o Barlow threw his weight against the door.

Grayson yanked his fingers out of the way, as the door slammed shut with a resounding boom.

oAt least I didnAEt get arrested,o he remarked grimly to himself. Though a night in jail would be worth the peace of mind of knowing Amber wasnAEt tied up in BarlowAEs basement.

****

He should have thought about how long a walk it was back to the street before he let Roger drive off. And how much time would be wasted finding a phone. Grayson cursed the short sightedness of his plan. HeAEd been so certain heAEd find Amber at BarlowAEs that he hadnAEt thought beyond liberating her from BarlowAEs clutches. Standing in the phone booth that was at least a foot too narrow for his shoulders, he dialed RogerAEs cell phone.

Roger answered on the first ring.

oThatAEs brilliant, Gray. Ring my phone, let the guard know IAEm here.o

He ignored RogerAEs sarcasm. oWhere exactly are you?o

oLooking for the keys to her filing cabinet.o

oTry her desk drawer.o

oIAEm trying to figure out which key opens the desk.o He could hear the frustration in RogerAEs voice, even over the background noise of the street. oItAEs not like I can turn on a light, is it?o

oBest to keep it dark and quiet.o Belatedly, Grayson realized how stupid that sounded.

oI was trying to,o Roger snapped, obefore you called.o

Distracting Roger before frayed nerves caused an argument, Grayson asked, oHow did you get past the guard?o

oHe was asleep,o Roger said. oCan you believe it? Some security system they got there. Amber should ask for a rebate on her rent.o Realizing what he was saying, he fell silent. oHowAEd it go with Barlow?o

oHe insists he knows nothing and threatened me with a new lawsuit.o

oTell me you didnAEt hit him.o

oI didnAEt hit him, Roger. But I nearly lost my hand in the door.o

**** He stood very close to her now. Amber could feel the heat of his body in the damp cold of the basement.

oAlways thinking about yourself werenAEt you, Amber?o He said her name with the same insincerity as telephone sales people. If youAEd just like to give us your credit card number, Ms Shaw, weAEll sign you up for a lifetime supply of--or if youAEd just be so kind to sit there Amber, while I murder you....

Amber stayed silent, testing her hypothesis. She knew of one particular person whom sheAEd made very angry. But that was a matter of business and not to be taken personally.

oYou couldnAEt be satisfied with what was yours, could you Amber? You had to go after what was mine.o His voice rose, bordering on hysteria.

Amber turned her head in the direction of his voice. Somehow she had to calm him, keep him talking until she could tell for certain. Until she could think of a way to convince him to let her go. oLook, I really do want to make this all up to you.o It was hard to sound sincere with her teeth chattering in the cold and a burlap bag over her head.

oSure you do, Amber Babe. Are you going to give me my work back? Are you going to give me my self respect back? How are you going to do that, hmm, Amber Babe?o

oWhy donAEt you tell me exactly what it was I did.o She hoped the answer would confirm her suspicions.

His quick intake of breath made her hope fervently he wasnAEt winding up to hit her.

Instead, he brought his head down beside hers. She felt the hot puff of his breath through the burlap, smelled the garlic from his dinner. Scent, sound added pieces to the puzzle. Memory supplied a dark, greasy-haired man leaning over her desk. Garlic wafted down at her on his hot breath as he leered down her top. So, howAEs it going, Amber Babe? She had to keep him talking. In another couple of seconds sheAEd be certain of his identity.

The menace in his tone shook her from her reverie. oIAEll tell you what you did to me, Amber Sweetheart. First you took my livelihood....o He gripped her thighs, leaning heavily on her. Shudders worked their way down her spine at the contact. She tried to keep herself from shivering. oBut hey,o he said in a falsely lighthearted tone, oIAEm an understanding guy, and I always kinda had the hots for you, Amber Babe. Kinda admired your spunk. Even if it was costing me.o

In that second she did know for sure. Hindsight pointed out all the clues sheAEd missed in clarity that had escaped her the first time. With a sinking feeling Amber remembered the times heAEd come on to her, which had been practically every time their paths crossed. SheAEd assumed he enjoyed making her uncomfortable. Never had she dreamed he actually cared, albeit in a sick and twisted kind of way.

oSo, I figured, what the hell. IAEd tell you how I feel. I wore my heart on my sleeve for you, Amber Sweetheart. And whatAEd you do?o

oI didnAEt realize--o

oKinda dense for a PI, arenAEt you?o

oI really didnAEt--o

oWhatAEd you do, Amber?o

She didnAEt know how to answer. What could she say that wouldnAEt intensify the anger she could feel radiating from him, in his bodyAEs heat and the vice grip in which he held her?

oSay it Amber.o His grip tightened, bruising her.

She shook her head.

oSay it,o he ordered. oSay you wouldnAEt even look at me when you could have that lawyer boyfriend of yours instead.o oI really didnAEt realize you felt that way.o Her voice shook in spite of her vow to remain calm. oLike hell you didnAEt,o he roared, lurching away from her. She heard the scuff of his feet against the rough cement floor. oThat kind of thing,o he said in a voice full of quiet menace that chilled her heart. oKinda messes with a guyAEs head.o ****

oFiling cabinetAEs open.o RogerAEs voice was muffled as he held the phone between his neck and shoulder, making it hard for Grayson to hear against the noise from the street.

oSee anything?o

oMan, sheAEs almost as obsessively neat as Jumpy John.o

oAre there any names, Roger?o Grayson reined in his temper. He refused to fight with Roger here in a public phone booth, not while Amber was in danger.

oHereAEs SandyAEs file.o Paper rustled. oWonder what she said about me.o

oRoger!o

oOkay, okay. Some stuff on a guy named Marchand, but according to this heAEs a client, not one of her intended victims.o

oAnything else?o

More paper rustling. The clunk of a heavy file drawer closing. oWhoa! Now, hereAEs something.o

oWhat?o Grayson had to restrain himself from yelling into the phone.

oA copy of an invoice addressed to John Barlow from a guy named James Heck of Heck, Sleuth & Company. Who the hell, or I should say, who the heck is James Heck?o

How could he have been so stupid? Grayson swallowed the bile rising in his throat. HeAEd seen the evidence with his own eyes when Amber brought him the invoice as proof she wasnAEt having an affair with James Heck. SheAEd insisted John Barlow had arranged the whole charade.

oHey, Gray, you still there? Do you know this guy?o

oYeah,o Grayson found his voice. oHeAEs the jerk that showed up at the office with a bouquet of flowers for Amber.o

oThe one who caused the huge fight?o

Trust Roger to phrase it in the most indelicate terms possible. Grayson shook his head. oYeah, thatAEs the one.o

oGray, I think we might have something here.o

oYou think this Heck guy might be involved?o

oIf he was willing to pull a sleazy stunt like that at the office, who knows what else he would be willing to do.o

oAnd get paid for it by Barlow,o Grayson finished.

oI think weAEd better check this guy out. He sounds like our man.o

HeAEd called Amber paranoid. And all the time she was in danger. oIs there an address on that invoice?o

oAn office address.o He heard Roger moving around in the office, opening more cabinets. oBut I bet thereAEs a listing for his home address in the phone book.o

oGood thinking.o For once they worked together like they had when they were boys cramming late nights on a science project. Before love came between them. oIAEm at the gas station behind BarlowAEs house. Pick me up and weAEll go have a chat with Mr. Heck.o

Grayson imagined Roger frowning at the phone. oItAEs nearly three in the morning. Do you think we should really go knocking on his door?o oYou donAEt have to come with me,o Grayson said. oThereAEs no reason Mom should have to bail both of us out of jail.o oNo, IAEm coming with you, Gray. That way I wonAEt have to explain to Mom how you got yourself killed.o ****

James Heck owned a ramshackle bungalow on the outskirts of town. Even in the darkness Grayson could make out the paint peeling from the sides of the house. The rickety fence looked like strong wind might blow it over.

oNice place,o Roger remarked. oLooks like he started with an outhouse and just kept building rooms.o

oThe guy doesnAEt have a lot of class. I met him, remember.o Grayson took another look at the darkened house. The chain of municipal streetlights ran out about a block earlier. Apparently Mr. Heck didnAEt see the need to install his own.

oWell?o Roger asked. oShall we?o

They were about six feet from the fence when a black missile bolted out of the shadows, barking furiously. Roger gripped his shoulder and hauled Grayson backward. oOn second thought, maybe not.o

oIf heAEs in there, we just triggered his alarm system.o

Grayson looked skeptically at the square-headed black dog throwing itself against the fence in an attempt to break through. One of his arms would fit comfortably within those powerful jaws, he thought.

oThat a pit bull?o Roger asked.

oItAEs nasty, whatever it is.o They stepped back onto the road, which only marginally quieted the pit bull. No one appeared in the darkened windows. No lights came on inside.

oDoesnAEt seem like heAEs too concerned,o Roger remarked.

Grayson squinted into the darkness. The house faced away from the street so that the front door was around the side. oLetAEs try the door.o

The pathway to the door ran in a narrow strip between a patch of overgrown grass and the two sides of the fence. It took about two seconds for the pit bull to see through their plan. The fence swayed, bulged as the heavy dog battered his body against it.

He could only think of Amber trapped inside a place like that. Judging from the exterior, the inside couldnAEt be any more inviting. Fervently he wished for the millionth time that they hadnAEt argued, that he hadnAEt contrived to be absent when she arrived at Barlow & Charles. Most of all that theyAEd gone home together and were now lying in his loft bed, snuggled beneath his down comforter.

oTell me youAEre not thinking of breaking in,o Roger said as GraysonAEs hand closed on the doorknob. He gave the door a rattle, but the heavy door barely shook on its hinges. Predictably, he found it locked.

Finding neither a doorbell nor a knocker, he raised his fist and pounded on the door.

oI have a bad feeling about this.o Roger muttered.

GraysonAEs pounding echoed through the rambling house. The pit bull threw itself against the fence. Puffs of its hot breath blew through the wooden slats in tiny clouds.

He had to get into that house to be sure Amber wasnAEt in there being subjected to God knew what. Grayson eyed the heavy hinges on the door. It would take more than his strength to break through it. And what if he found Mr. Heck sound asleep in his bed with no idea to AmberAEs whereabouts? He could imagine the headlines: LAWYER GOES ON BREAK AND ENTER SPREE! He doubted the police would understand about his gut feeling that Amber was in danger. Not when he couldnAEt even convince his twin.

Another resounding boom echoed through the house. Grayson felt his hand bruise under the impact.

oHeAEs not home, Gray.o Roger gripped his shoulder. oThat or heAEs a very sound sleeper. Or packing a really large gun,o he finished. In answer Grayson threw his weight against the door.

Which didnAEt give so much as an inch.

Wood splintered. As one they turned toward the sound.

To find the pit bullAEs head sticking through the fence behind them.

oBefore we break into his house and get ourselves arrested, letAEs try his office,o Roger suggested quickly.

Another tearing sound from the fence. The pit bull had his head and shoulders through.

oHe wouldnAEt be holding her in somewhere so obvious as his own home,o Roger suggested. The grip on GraysonAEs shoulder intensified as Roger slowly pulled him away from the door.

Grayson looked at the narrow strip of wood between them and the pit bullAEs teeth. oOkay, letAEs try the office.o

The sound of splintering wood followed them down the narrow path. Grayson heard the scrape of nails against concrete. A black shape bolted out of the shadows.

He slammed the car door just as the pit bullAEs teeth closed on the handle. ****

DidnAEt matter what she said, her captor would find a way to turn it against her, Amber realized. Blaming her for his broken heart, he wanted revenge.

In agitation, he walked back and forth, his shoes scuffing against the floor in a rough staccato beat. He cursed, hotly and harshly under his breath. A pop bottle ricocheted off the wall, narrowly missing her head. A shower of glass rained down over the burlap bag on her head, settling in the creases of the cloth. Amber cringed, unable to see whether another projectile was headed her way.

oKinda messes with a guyAEs head,o he muttered again to himself. oIt wouldnAEt have killed you to say yes, Amber.o

Recognition hit her. His words tumbled into her memory. IAEd forgive you if youAEd go out with me.

In that second she did know him. James Heck, who insisted sheAEd stolen the aborted Roberts case from him. James Heck whoAEd been paid by Barlow to discredit her in front of Grayson.

James Heck, who held her prisoner.

oIAEm really sorry, James!o Amber blurted out his name before she could call the words back.

Footsteps stopped. His harsh breath died into silence. She heard the rustle of his clothing as he turned in her direction.

oFigured it out, did you, Amber Babe? Took you long enough.o

Glass crunched beneath his feet.

oThatAEs too bad, Amber.o His hair rasped against his collar as he shook his head. oReally too bad. Because, you see, now that you know who I am, IAEll have to kill you.o

Chapter SIXTEEN

The offices of Heck, Sleuth & Company were as dismal as HeckAEs residence, Grayson mused as Roger pulled the Porsche up to the curb. No night guard in this office building, although several signs posted numbers to call in the case of break and enter. Like anyone would, he scoffed mentally. Except for the offices of Heck, Sleuth & Company, the building seemed abandoned. For Rent signs covered broken windows. Re-zoning notices plastered the front door. Whoever owned the building was hedging their bets.

Roger looked up at the remains of what must have been an impressive skyscraper and groaned. oGuy sure knows how to pick a place.o

oMust have been a spectacular building at one time.o Grayson peered through the notices that covered most of the glass on the front door.

oSure,o Roger agreed. oIn the twenties. Looks like the place has been rotting ever since.o

What Grayson could see of the lobby lay in darkness, but a light shone from a nearby hallway. HeckAEs invoice specified Suite 401. He couldnAEt imagine the owner filling even four floors of such a dismal building. Perhaps Heck was one of the last tenants left on the lease. oI doubt thereAEs a guard,o he murmured. Why guard a building you were trying to evict people from?

oNot a human one anyway,o Roger said.

Grayson shook his head. oI doubt heAEs paying for an electronic alarm system, either.o

oNo, but I wouldnAEt put it past a guy like Heck to have son of Cujo sleeping in his office.o

Grayson tried the door and found it quite securely locked.

Backing up, he debated throwing his bruised shoulder against it, when Roger stepped between him and his intended target. oIAEm not going to let you put your foot through that door, Gray.o Against the lightening sky he could see RogerAEs stricken expression. Dawn approached, meaning Amber had been missing since just after dusk. oItAEs not like you to resort to brute force like that,o Roger admonished him. oIAEm the one who always goes rushing headlong into things, remember?o

But was that really true? Grayson wondered, scanning the building for another route of entry even as he pretended to give Roger his attention. Or did they just act out the roles their parents had reinforced? RogerAEs just not responsible enough to run the firm, Grayson remembered his father saying when he had balked at the idea of law school. And Roger had lived up to that notion. But tonight it was Roger thinking with his head while Grayson would have run recklessly into disaster.

oThereAEs got to be another way in. A loading bay, electrical access. Something!o

oLetAEs look around back,o Roger suggested.

They made their way through what had once been a landscaped garden. The remnants of shrubs lay like tumbleweeds on the freezing ground. Yellowed grass rose tall as hay before dying off in patches for the coming winter. Like a ghost the figure of a Grecian woman stood in the center of an abandoned fountain. One of her arms was missing and half of her face had been worn away by the weather. Grayson shuddered. oWhat kind of creep is this guy?o

oA desperate creep obviously.o Roger turned away from the fountain and went to investigate the metal doors on the loading bay. oDid Amber ever say exactly what kind of work he did?o

oBasic PI stuff, I gathered.o Grayson tried the padlock on the door. oWait a minute. Amber did say something about that Heck guy being angry at her for stealing one of his clients.o

He could tell by the look on RogerAEs face that they drew the same conclusion. oThis is shaping up to be an entirely different scenario altogether.o

oYou think James Heck has a personal vendetta against Amber,o Grayson said, voicing this new fear.

oThink about it. This Heck guy is furious with Amber for stealing his client, so he does a little PI work of his own and finds out that AmberAEs got a gig going at Barlow & Charles.o

oHe wouldnAEt know that she was working off a court settlement.o

oRight. So he goes to Barlow, hoping to get in on some of AmberAEs action. Or maybe heAEs worked for Barlow before.o

The possibility only intensified GraysonAEs desperation. He gave the lock another urgent shake. Rust came away in his hand, but the lock held. oWho knows what Barlow was into behind my back?o

oBarlow pays Heck to pull a prank that will make you angry enough to fire Amber.o

oNo one expected us to get personally involved.o Something nagged at the back of GraysonAEs mind, demanding his attention. oWait a minute, Amber did say something about this Heck guy harassing her to go out with him.o

Implication hit him like a blow to the stomach.

oThis may not be about Barlow at all,o Roger said, voicing GraysonAEs own thoughts.

oIf this Heck guy thought Amber stole his client--o

oThen his little revenge plot to steal her client fails,o Roger interjected.

oThen on top of that she turns him down personally--o

oIt makes this Heck guy--who sounds like heAEs unbalanced anyway-!all the more desperate.o Roger stopped talking abruptly.

Grayson rattled the handle again, to no avail. oWe have to get in there! This is the place, IAEm sure of it. If HeckAEs our man, it makes sense heAEd hold her in a place like this. I mean, whoAEd come here? Bet even the landlord hasnAEt been here in ten years.o He reined in the urge to throw himself against the metal doors, knowing it would only gain him a dislocated shoulder. oIf we could get our hands on some bolt cutters, weAEd be through there in a minute.o

Roger eyed the sky which was turning from dark gray to faintest pink. oItAEs nearly dawn, Gray. We canAEt just hack our way through a lock in broad daylight. ThereAEs got to be another way in. A side door, a broken window ... Gray?o

RogerAEs voice came as if from a distance as GraysonAEs attention was captured by a faint ray of light spilling out from one of the lower windows into the darker shadow between the side of the building and a row of half dead poplar trees.

Grayson leapt from the crumbling concrete of the loading dock into the brush beneath. Skeletal trees marked the property line between what had been a building next door. One wall of the foundation was all that remained of the neighboring structure. The rest had been bulldozed and covered with gravel. A weather beaten sign announced daily parking for five dollars. But the ticket dispensing machine bore the scars of numerous collisions and years of rust.

He pushed through waist-high stalks of dead plants, heading toward the pale glow of light heAEd seen from the loading bay. Down in the low ground between buildings it was harder to see. The wind shook the dried leaves in an eerie death rattle.

Roger crashed through the brush behind him. They werenAEt going to win any prizes for stealth he thought, whirling and holding up a finger for silence. Chastened, Roger continued more quietly.

Ahead the yellowed stalks of grass were gilded with light. He crept closer, wincing at the sound of grass crunching beneath each footfall. Hidden by the fence of tall stalks was a basement window. Grayson flattened himself against the wall and looked down.

Among the overgrowth of weeds, he wouldnAEt even have noticed the window if it wasnAEt for the pale light leaking from the room beyond. Recessed into the wall, the window was also sheltered by a low wall of corrugated metal.

Crouching by the wall, he craned his neck to see down inside. But the only view was of a narrow concrete hallway that branched off at right angles into another beyond. The faint light came from around that corner. Too dim to be cast by a lamp, Grayson realized, more like a flashlight. If it had been any lighter outside, he wouldnAEt have noticed it.

oSee anything?o Roger asked.

oJust a hallway.o Grayson jumped down into the well around the window. Putting his hands against the frame, he heaved with all his strength. But the rusted metal held. He didnAEt dare risk making enough noise to break the glass.

oThereAEs got to be another way in.o Roger slunk away from the wall and moved quietly along the side of the building.

Grayson pressed his ear against the glass, listening intently. Over the crunch of RogerAEs footsteps he thought he could hear the low murmur of voices. No, a single voice, he decided. Someone talking on the phone, maybe. Or talking to himself.

oGray!o RogerAEs whisper brought his head up. Ahead he saw Roger crouched in the tall grass.

Running close to the wall, he tried to make as little noise as possible. Roger knelt beside a crumbling set of stone stairs that led to a rusting metal door. His hand closed upon the metal handle. Predictably it was locked. But the rusting lock didnAEt look all that sturdy.

oOne good tug,o Roger said, placing his hands above GraysonAEs.

oOn the count of three,o Grayson said, bracing his weight.

oOne, two...o

A piercing scream tore through the basement below them.

****

Amber screamed at the shock of cold steel against her throat. A big mistake. She heard HeckAEs laughter above her head, knew he feasted on her fear. The impossibly sharp edge pressed against her skin could only belong to a large knife. She shouldnAEt have screamed. He was enjoying it far too much.

oNot so brave after all, are we, Amber?o He chuckled again. oWho would have thought with all that false bravado?o

Could it be that he only meant to frighten her, to shake her up? No, the rational part of her brain insisted. She knew who he was. There were laws against forcibly confining someone, laws against uttering death threats. No, James Heck was merely toying with her, prolonging the pleasure of his great revenge.

And she would never see Grayson again. The thoughts poured into her mind before she could stem the flow. Not only would he never know what happened to her, Amber thought dismally, but his last memories of her would be of their late night argument and their terse words the next morning. If only she could tell him she was sorry....

Thoughts of Grayson forced her mind back to work on a solution. Amber swallowed carefully.

oLook, James....o It was hard to talk with the blade of a knife pressed against her throat. oIAEm sorry I hurt you.o Amber imagined herself talking to Grayson. Picturing his face before her lent conviction to her words. She felt the blade slip a fraction of an inch away from her throat. oI didnAEt realize how selfish I was being. I was too wrapped up in my own problems.o

oSure you were, babe.o HeckAEs harsh voice jolted her back to reality. oThe whole lot of you laughed at me. At the association lunches, the Christmas parties. aeSo howAEs it going, James? Still peeking into windows?AEo he mimicked a passable imitation of her voice. oDid you think I didnAEt know you guys called me Heck Sleaze and Company?o

The knife dimpled her flesh. Amber didnAEt dare draw breath to answer.

oI was the bottom of the barrel. Until you stole even that from me.o

oI didnAEt know you were bidding on the job, James,o Amber whispered. Not being able to see stretched the tension between them. Better that way, she decided. That way she couldnAEt see his face contorted in anger. She wouldnAEt know when the moment came. oI was just trying to keep my own firm from going bankrupt.o

oLike you needed clients,o Heck spit through his teeth. oWith that lawyer boyfriend of yours feeding you work.o

Irony was Grayson hadnAEt been paying her at first. SheAEd been working off the last of the court settlement. She decided not to share that with James Heck. The last thing she needed was to hear him laughing at her before she died.

oYou could have left me to my pathetic life, Amber.o The sadness in his voice made his heart clench. Sadness mixed with righteous anger.

Enough anger to make him feel righteous about killing her. Amber felt the pinch of the knife again. This time there was a purposefulness to the bite of the blade that hadnAEt been there before.

oWait!o she said hoarsely. Unlike the other times he didnAEt loosen his grip on the knife so she could speak. oYou donAEt have to kill me to fix this, James. I could help you. IAEd be happy to, really.o

oSure, like you helped me out of a job. Out of my livelihood. Out of my life!o

The blade vibrated with his anger.

oToo late, Amber Babe. You had your chance.o

****

AmberAEs scream. Grayson knew it instinctively. Terror lent him strength. He threw the sum of his weight into one desperate tug, felt Roger mirror his action.

The ancient rusted lock gave suddenly, unbalancing them both. Together they fell in a heap. Grayson was the first on his feet.

It was darker inside now as the sky lightened with dawn. Grayson bolted down the narrow hallway, Roger close behind him.

They came to another hallway, followed the wan light to the left. The narrow hall opened suddenly into a large open room.

In one sweeping gaze, he took in the bound shape huddled on the floor, the greasy figure of James Heck looming above. In the pale glow of the flashlight, he saw the gleam of a knife.

Caught by surprise, Heck whirled in their direction. Grayson sprang.

The impact knocked Heck to the floor. Grayson sprawled awkwardly on top of him. Anger burned through him, bright and hot. Fury that he would harm the woman he loved. Outrage that a worm like James Heck would sink to terrorizing a blindfolded and bound woman. Especially one as tiny as Amber Shaw.

But anger also drove James Heck, who for being pudgy, was also stronger than he looked. Despite the impact, Heck hadnAEt lost his grip on the knife. Grayson looked up just in time to find it sailing down in his direction. He rolled out of the path of the nasty looking blade, giving Heck a chance to half scramble to his feet.

From the corner of his eye he saw Amber trying to struggle to her bound feet, her head cocked, listening intently.

oWell, if it isnAEt lover boy,o Heck snarled.

oGrayson?o AmberAEs hoarse whisper cut through him and he longed to go to her, but for both their sakes he had to keep an eye on that knife.

Heck lunged at him. The knife flashed in the wan light. Grayson leapt backward. He felt the rush of air as the blade narrowly missed his chest.

Roger! he thought suddenly. Where was Roger?

A blur rushed by him, kicking dirt into his eyes. Grayson blinked. HeckAEs eyes widened as he took in the twin rushing toward him. So he hadnAEt known. Grayson leapt in RogerAEs direction.

Too late Heck turned to meet RogerAEs onslaught. Caught off guard, he brought the blade down, unsure which twin to target. Grayson knocked his stroke wide. The knife clattered to the ground. Then Heck was pinned under Roger, who had always been better at fighting. Grayson turned to Amber

****

Sounds of a scuffle echoed through the basement. Harsh breathing. The male smell of sweat. Amber heard Heck call someone lover boy, then what she thought was GraysonAEs grunt of surprise. The dull impact of a punch being thrown in tight quarters. She called GraysonAEs name, got no answer. Someone rushed past her. Another set of footsteps, moving quickly. Another impact. She struggled to get her bound feet under her, failed and sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

Then suddenly there were warm hands on her back, warm hands turning her gently. The dull light was unbearably bright after the suffocating darkness. GraysonAEs face swam through her tears.

His hands moved over her shoulders, probing gently, feeling along her arms until he located the cold metal handcuffs pressed tightly into her skin. oAre you hurt?o His aching concern for her brought another wave of tears.

oNo,o she croaked. oJust cold and stiff.o

He pulled her handcuffs and all into his arms. oWeAEll get you out of here, get you warm,o he promised. She felt the warm brush of his lips against her cold cheek.

Amber flailed against him, forgetting for an instant that her hands were bound and she couldnAEt touch him. Glancing past Grayson, she found Heck pinned to the floor by Roger. oHe wears the keys on a ring on his belt.o

Heck bucked against Roger as Grayson bent over him. It took both of them to hold him to the ground while Grayson relieved him of his weighty key ring.

Metal cuffs fell away. Amber felt the pinprick rush of circulation returning to her hands. Grayson helped her sit up, while he went to work on the coarse rope that bound her feet.

Circulation only brought a wave of shudders. Her teeth chattered noisily. She couldnAEt stop shaking.

oHang on.o Grayson draped his jacket over her coat. With a worried look in her direction, he brought the handcuffs over to Roger.

oSit up,o Roger ordered. When Heck would have made a run for the hallway, Grayson wrenched his arms behind his back and tightened the handcuffs.

The look James Heck shot in her direction sent another wave of shudders down her spine. oItAEs not over, Amber Babe--o

oShut up!o Roger shook him roughly. Knocking Heck back onto the concrete, he used his weight to hold him in place while Grayson secured his feet.

Satisfied Heck wasnAEt going anywhere, Roger pulled out his cell phone. Amber looked up to find Grayson standing before her.

oCan you stand?o He rubbed gently at her chafed ankles, urging circulation back into her calves and thighs. She leaned against him, not caring if the warm salt of her tears soaked his shirt. He drew her close, burrowing under the layers of their jackets, warming her with his body.

oOh God, Grayson!o Violent shudders wracked her body. oIAEm so sorry about all those horrible things I said the other night. I do love you. I do want to marry you. The whole time I was here I kept thinking IAEd never see you again, and the only thing youAEd remember of me was our argument.o

oHush, Amber.o Placing a finger beneath her chin, he looked intently into her eyes. oItAEs going to be all right. We have the rest of our lives to make it up to each other.o

****

Two hours later, and still Amber couldnAEt get warm. She sat in RogerAEs Porsche, running down his battery by blasting the heater. Police swarmed through the basement. The ropes that had bound her legs disappeared into an evidence bag. The bruises on her wrists and ankles were cataloged as thoroughly. SheAEd recounted the story of her ordeal at least three times and still she was due downtown tomorrow to make a statement. Grayson wanted to take her to the hospital. Roger offered to drive. The police wanted to fingerprint, prod and question some more. But Amber just wanted to go home.

Which was the crux of the problem.

She hadnAEt slept in her own apartment in weeks now. In fact, the crowded rooms made her claustrophobic. She longed for the wide open space of GraysonAEs loft schoolhouse, the expanse of his wide bed.

But the last time theyAEd been there together, theyAEd fought bitterly. Now that James Heck was in police custody, the matter of their life together still needed to be resolved.

So, she sat in RogerAEs car, while the police questioned Grayson and Roger for the millionth time. And James Heck glared at her from the back of a police cruiser.

Finally, the police released Grayson and Roger. The convoy of cruisers pulled out of the parking lot. Amber saw James Heck twist in the seat to shoot a last hate-filled glare in her direction before they disappeared around a corner.

And then it was Grayson sliding into the seat beside her, lifting her into his lap. His arms tightened around her, as if he tried to heal her with the force of his embrace. The heat of his body began to warm her, and she felt herself slipping off into a doze. Dimly, she was aware of Roger sliding into the seat beside them, of the car motor roaring to life. Warm and safe at last, Amber drifted off to sleep.

She awoke to golden flickering light and the sound of water running. Drowsily, she lifted her head to find GraysonAEs loft aglow with candles. Towers of them burned on his dresser, along the headboard and lit up the bathroom beyond. She struggled from the mummy-like wrappings of his down quilt and jumped when he appeared in the doorway, a towel draped over one arm.

oMadam, your bath is ready.o

oBath?o she asked in a pitiful attempt at humor. oDo I smell that bad?o

His worried expression cracked into a smile. He gathered her into his arms and pressed a kiss on the top of her tousled hair. oYou smell just fine to me. But itAEs just what you need to work the kinks out of those muscles.o

He was wearing a pair of worn sweats, his chest bare in the heat. Fires burned in both of the fireplaces and heAEd moved the electric heater close to the bed. Nuzzling into the center of his chest, she found the downy hairs damp with sweat. But he said nothing, made no move to turn down the heat.

GraysonAEs hands moved in slow circles at the base of her neck, urging her abused muscles to relax. Now that it was over, she found every muscle ached with fatigue. Muscles she didnAEt even know she had cried out in individual agony. And beneath it all the sick feeling of relief and exhaustion.

Warm fingers brushed her flesh as he fumbled with the tiny buttons of her blouse. His hands drifted over her skin as he spread the cloth wide and moved behind to unfasten the clasp of her bra. Desire flickered in their wake, a smoldering ember. oGrayson, I need--o

oHush.o His lips covered hers in a gentle, soothing kiss. oI know what you need.o His fingers strayed to the zipper of her pants.

Soon she stood naked before him, pressed against the soft cotton of his sweats. Which did nothing to hide the arousal he could no longer conceal.

But then he was lifting her, carrying her easily toward the claw-foot tub in his candle lit bathroom. Heat steamed the windows and the mirror, but the water was pleasingly warm. As soon as she sank into it, Amber felt her eyes closing.

GraysonAEs hands moved tenderly over her, massaging sore muscles, washing away the smell of mold and rot. She smelled the familiar scent of his shampoo, felt his hands sink into her crimson curls as he soaped her hair. She ducked her head under the water to rinse. Eyes dark as night looked back at her as she surfaced.

oGrayson--o she began, having no clue what she would say next. But he sealed her lips with one finger.

oAmber, I love you.o When she would have said more, he covered her mouth in a gentle kiss. oMore than anything else in this world.o He knelt beside the tub on one knee.

Then his expression clouded and he looked around as if heAEd forgotten something. oHang on!o he said, panicked. She heard his rapid-fire footsteps on the ladder, then him padding across the wooden floor below. The refrigerator door opened, then shut. He knelt again beside her. oI know I didnAEt do this the right way last time.o He reached into the water for her hand and slid the metal tab from a pop can onto her finger. oBut it would make me the happiest man in the world if you would marry me.o

oYou still want me?o she asked hoarsely, feeling the pressure of tears building once again. oAfter all the awful things we said?o

He pulled her against him, heedless of the water that sloshed over the side of the tub. oI donAEt intend to let you out of my sight, so you might as well marry me Amber.o

Amber leaned against him, warm and safe. An unfamiliar feeling of peace washed over her, as she felt the depth of her love for him, free at last of the fear and doubt that had plagued her for so long. She looked down at the flattened metal ring on her finger and laughed.

oSo?o

She heard the fear in his tone, and answered him with a kiss that left no doubt as to her feelings. oOf course IAEll marry you, Counselor.o

oSoon?o he prompted, as if she might change her mind. She wouldnAEt, Amber thought. During the long night in HeckAEs company sheAEd been plunged into the darkest regions of her soul. Life had given her a second chance, a life with Grayson.

His hand closed over hers, covering the impromptu ring.

oSoon,o she agreed.

EPILOGUE

oWill you hold still!o Grayson tugged at the ends of the ascot he vainly attempted to fasten around RogerAEs neck, forcing his brother to stop fidgeting. Grayson suppressed a smile. RogerAEs restlessness stemmed from the fear that after all theyAEd been through to repair their relationship, Sandy would develop cold feet and leave him at the altar.

Aside from fretting that heAEd never get Roger properly dressed, Grayson realized he had no such reservations about Amber. SheAEd be there, on time and looking gorgeous.

No, the cold feet were definitely RogerAEs. It was GraysonAEs job to see he got to the church on time. Grayson had solved the problem by dogging RogerAEs footsteps for the past three days, even putting up with his company as an overnight guest the night before the wedding. Which left Amber to find somewhere else to spend her last evening as a single woman. SheAEd willingly agreed, practically fleeing the house.

oSpend the evening watching two confirmed bachelors have a nervous breakdown?o sheAEd remarked halfway out the door with her overnight bag. oNo thanks!o But then sheAEd come back in and kissed him thoroughly, reminding him what he was missing. oSee you tomorrow,o she said, then added pointedly, oYou too, Roger.o

The double wedding had been RogerAEs idea. If they were both planning weddings, why not share the expenses, he reasoned. Why celebrate just New YearAEs Eve when they could be celebrating their marriages as well. Deep down, Grayson knew the real reason. If Roger was going to take the plunge, he wanted company.

Aside from the bow tie, the tuxedo he had to wear, and the flower pinned to his lapel, it didnAEt seem so bad so far. Friends and relatives were coming from all over to drink champagne, to wish them well, to marvel that the Charles brothers were finally getting married.

Outside fat snowflakes rapidly covered the ground in white. Enough snow to snarl traffic and cause delays everywhere. Grayson wasnAEt worried. Amber would make allowances for the weather. Amber always had a Plan B, usually even a Plan C. And they werenAEt taking off for Hawaii until tomorrow.

Roger was a bundle of nerves. He paced, fretted, re-pinned his boutonniere for the millionth time, and creased the ascot Grayson just finished tying.

oStop messing with it!o

Grayson resisted the urge to reach and slap his hand. Spending the past couple of days with Roger had been worse than baby-sitting a hyperactive two year old. He was honored that Roger wanted to share the most important day of his life. But the last nerve wracking hours before the wedding and the imposed closeness of having both of them under one roof frayed his nerves.

Roger, he thought with a deep sigh of relief, was not going to Hawaii. When Roger had offered to make their wedding a double, he feared his brother would suggest they double up on the honeymoon as well. Sandy had her heart set on Bermuda as a honeymoon destination, and Roger had happily complied. Though there was little he wouldnAEt do for his twin, all his thoughts were for Amber and the two weeks they planned to spend together far away from the distractions of work. And family.

The police held custody of James Heck. John Barlow had finally been charged with embezzling. Though Barlow had managed to raise his bail money, the courts would decide his fate. With his partnership with Barlow dissolving, Belaoussoff, Bekar, Karulis and Lacey had offered Grayson a place in their firm.

Not again, Grayson had decided. The only partnership heAEd have from now on was one with Amber. Deciding to take his chances starting his own firm, heAEd hired Amber permanently to do his investigative work. Amber he could trust.

RogerAEs fidgeting brought his thoughts back to the present. His twin threatened to unravel his hard won composure completely.

Why had he ever agreed to hold the wedding at his house? Though the setting was idyllic, the scenery stunning in winter, if theyAEd married in a church in town, he could have locked Roger in a hotel room for the night and at least have got himself some sleep.

Too late, he thought with a glance into the living room that now hosted chairs neatly arranged to form rows and aisles. Guests arrived by the minute, in spite of the holiday and the bad weather. The hum of conversation mingled with the festive smell of pine and roses. No, best to marry in his house, so they could cherish the memory of their wedding each day.

In a few short hours the festivities would be over. Roger would be SandyAEs problem.

Amber would be his forever.

The start of a new year and a new life. He couldnAEt stop a smile from working its way across his face. Until he looked up to find Roger scowling out the window.

oWhat is it now?o

oTheyAEre late.o

oHow late? Thirty seconds?o

oItAEs already five after six.o

oAnd the weatherAEs bad. Relax, Roger. TheyAEll be here.o

****

oHeAEll be there!o Amber clasped her hand over SandyAEs. The warm interior of the limousine was an oasis from the snow rapidly turning the city to chaos. Another few miles to go. TheyAEd make it with just minutes to spare.

oWhat if weAEre late?o

oThey can wait five minutes.o

oWhat if heAEs still not sure, what if heAEs changed his mind?o

oIf RogerAEs changed his mind,o Amber snarled, oI have a very special revenge planned for him.o She cast Sandy a reassuring smile. oFree of charge. It would be my pleasure.o But when Sandy only smiled wanly in return, she added. oDonAEt worry, Grayson will make sure heAEs there.o

oI donAEt want him to be if he doesnAEt want to.o

oHe wants to marry you, Sandy. I can tell. IAEm a good judge of character.o

Sandy turned toward her in a whisper of tulle. oYouAEre not worried about Grayson?o

oNo.o

oNot even a little?o

Amber searched her soul, finding that in the depths of her heart the one thing she was certain of was Grayson.

During the long night she had been held hostage by James Heck, Amber had buried her doubts about Grayson forever. He loved her, she realized. Flaws, fears and all. oNot even,o she said with certainty.

oI wish I could feel that way.o

oItAEs just prenuptial jitters. Once we get there and you see everythingAEs fine, theyAEll go away.o

Sandy nodded nervously, pale as a ghost behind her white veil. oYou sure everything got delivered?o

oThe cake, the chairs and all the dishes arrived last night before I left. Mrs. Charles called me this morning to say the floral designer did a spectacular job. The caterers were due at four.o Amber counted off the many details on her fingers. oEven if the caterers donAEt show up, thereAEs enough cake and champagne to go around. WeAEll order pizza or something.o

The thought of pizza only served to make Sandy even more nervous. oI was only kidding,o Amber said.

oDonAEt mind me.o Sandy forced a smile. oLike you said, itAEs probably just nerves.o

She did look radiant, Amber had to admit. Like an angel in her pure white gown and head of blonde curls. The white dresses Amber had tried on only made her look twice as pale as usual. Though sheAEd banished thoughts of Eric from her mind, the thought of buying another wedding dress was surprisingly painful. Amber had given up, deciding instead on a tailored white suit. But Sandy, having her heart set on a long white dress and train, had dragged Amber with her to every bridal store in the city. And still Amber refused to be swayed, until in the very last store, sheAEd found a dress of ivory silk, with silk roses at the shoulder and in the bustle. It cost much more than she intended to pay. But in a moment of weakness, sheAEd pulled out her credit card and bought the dress, matching shoes and veil. She hoped Grayson would like it more than she wanted to admit.

The limousine turned off the highway, down the winding road that led to GraysonAEs house. Amber squinted to see the time on the dashboard clock. Ten minutes after six. Not bad, considering they were arriving in a blizzard.

Someone had gone to considerable trouble plowing the front yard so cars could pull up within easy access of the house. Stretching from the front door to the door of the limousine was a red carpet, already lightly dusted with snow. The limousine rolled to a halt. Amber waited as the driver came around to the side to help them out.

Frigid air gusted into the warm interior. Thankfully, her gown had long sleeves. Holding an umbrella to keep off the snow, the driver helped them down the red carpet to the door of GraysonAEs house.

Conversation hushed as they entered. Stepping into the warmth, they were greeted by a sea of smiles. A fire burned in the fireplace. Bows of pine and red roses decorated every available surface. At the far end of the aisle of chairs, she saw two black clad figures take their place, saw RogerAEs face light up with smile sure to melt SandyAEs doubts at the first sight of his bride. Grayson drew her gaze past him. She watched as his eyes widened in astonishment, then his face broke into a slow, certain smile as she made her way up the aisle toward him.

****

Nothing prepared Grayson for the sight of Amber. He expected her to look beautiful. All brides were beautiful and Amber was gorgeous to begin with. His field of vision narrowed to include nothing but the two of them and the beautiful woman walking down the aisle toward him. Beside him he heard Roger gasp as he saw Sandy, but Grayson couldnAEt tear his eyes from Amber.

Never would he have guessed sheAEd go for a traditional bridal dress. A white suit, she kept telling him, something practical, something she could wear again.

Well, she wouldnAEt be wearing that dress again. HeAEd see to it personally. His eyes dropped from the crimson curls to the roses of ivory silk at her shoulder, over the gentle gathers that off-set her petite figure perfectly.

He couldnAEt look away, even through the ceremony. Even as Roger and Sandy recited their vows, his gaze strayed back to Amber, to the calm certain love he saw there. Smiling up at him, he heard her say aeI doAE and echoed it with one of his own.

Amber was his he realized, reaching out to slip the gold band on her finger.

Forever.

The End

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