Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing Read Free Page B

furrows running from nose to mouth had deepened. Oh Stevie, she thought to herself, you work too hard and too long. And you work in bad, bad worlds. So do you, whispered a little voice. So do you. She hugged him.
    ‘You bloody gold-chained lair,’ she whispered, drawing back for him to kiss her and they stayed there, swaying together until she gently disentangled herself.
    ‘I’ve got fresh coffee on,’ she said eventually.
    ‘Anything stronger?’
    ‘Sure.’ She went to the sideboard where the crystal decanters stood with their silver labels on chains around their necks.
    ‘I came via the boatshed,’ said Steve, ‘and shone my torch through the window.’
    Gemma poured Scotch into a glass, smiling to herself.
    ‘I couldn’t see much of him under his drapes. But he’s got great front feet,’ said Steve. ‘You could put him out there in the garden.’
    Gemma nodded, pleased that Steve had bothered to look in on the lion. Then she remembered that Steve noticed everything, it was what made him so effective.
    ‘He’s not actually finished yet,’ she said. ‘And I’m going to do another one so I’ll have a pair.’
    Gemma passed Steve’s drink to him. He tossed it down and threw himself on one of the armchairs. Taxi had vanished. She was dying to ask about the zodiac charm and could barely wait till he put his glass out for another drink. She fetched some ice from the fridge, went back to the decanter and turned around, keeping her voice as casual as she could.
    ‘Where did you get that Scorpio charm?’
    Steve squinted down at it, pulling a face. ‘A woman gave it to me.’ He swung it into his hand and jiggled it up and down. ‘It’s what she thinks is appropriate for a boyfriend.’
    Gemma felt her heart give a throb of jealousy as she reached out and touched it. At the same time, she wanted to gather more intelligence about Steve’s undercover job.
    ‘It looks expensive,’ she said. But then, money would be no object to Terry Litchfield’s widow, Gemma knew.
    Steve shrugged. ‘I suppose it is,’ he said. ‘I don’t really take much notice of it, except when it hits me sometimes at the gym.’ He stood up. ‘That email you’ve been getting—I want to see it.’
    Gemma shook her head, wishing she’d never mentioned it to him. ‘No, you don’t,’ she said. ‘It’s horrible.’
    Steve came closer. ‘How did you get involved in something like that?’
    His question caused her body to tighten defensively. She didn’t want to talk about it, not now, and certainly not with Steve. She picked up her empty cup and his glass and walked out to the kitchen. ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow,’ she said. ‘It’s too late now. Do you want another drink?’
    He nodded and she made him another one, then brought her coffee mug out and curled up on the floor, leaning against his legs. He smoothed her hair and sipped his drink.
    ‘How’s it all going?’ she finally asked, knowing that he wouldn’t say much.
    ‘I think it’s going to be okay,’ he said. ‘I got through the first meeting with the person we’re targeting.’
    ‘Stevie, I hope you’re being really careful,’ she said, looking up at him, suspecting already whom he meant. Steve squeezed her shoulder. Still looking at him, she put her hand over his. ‘Is that squeeze supposed to be reassuring?’ she asked.
    ‘It is,’ he said.
    ‘You might have to do better than that,’ she said. ‘I know you can’t say much but I happen to know already that you’re working with Terry Litchfield’s widow—’
    ‘How do you know that?’ Steve asked too quickly, and she realised she’d caught him off-guard.
    She looked at him more closely. ‘You’re rattled,’ she teased. ‘Have I touched on a sensitive issue?’ He was looking hard at her, obviously not pleased that she knew so much. ‘Steve,’ she said, ‘you must have known I’d guess. I’m an investigator too, remember.’
    He grunted noncommitally.
    Gemma laughed