Rivals Read Free

before.
    â€œSo you say, but I’ll argue the point with you further—on Tuesday,” he replied, conceding to her with a final dip of his head. “I’ll have Arthur pick you up at twelve-thirty sharp.”
    â€œI’ll be ready.”
    â€œSo will I.”
    Flame knew she’d be in for another contest of wills on Tuesday. And she had to admit, if only to herself, that there was a part of her that enjoyed these stimulating duels of theirs—and Malcom’s always challenging company.
    As Ellery came walking back, that sensation of someone watching her resurfaced. “Your wine, m’lady.” He offered a stemmed glass. “Chilled to precisely thirty-six degrees Centigrade. Or was it Fahrenheit?”
    â€œThere is a difference, my fine friend,” she answered as she covertly scanned the room. Just as she suspected, the brown-shoed waiter with the hawk face was on the other side of the room, this time carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres.
    As she started to look away, her glance was caught and held by another man standing on the far side of the room, a shoulder negligently propped against the claret-glazed wall. His hair was as black as the tuxedo he wore. And despite the languid pose, the overall impression was that of a lean and rangy black panther, coiled energy held in check, ready to spring at a second’s warning.
    He stared back. She took a sip of wine without tasting it, conscious only of the unexpected quickening of her pulse. She thought she knew everyone at the party, but who was he? She looked again, telling herself that her interest was strictly curiosity—and not believing a word of it. His gaze never left her as he nodded absently to the person with him and raised a crystal tumbler to his mouth. For the first time, Flame glanced at the petite blonde beside him. Jacqui Van Cleeve, the columnist. Who was he? Obviously someone of importance.
    â€œThe man with Jacqui, Malcom, do you know him?”
    But Ellery replied first. “I believe I heard someone say he’s here with Miss Colton.”
    â€œThen it must be Chance Stuart,” Malcom concluded, still trying to locate the pair.
    â€œI think I’ve heard that name.” But Flame couldn’t remember where or why.
    â€œI should think so,” Malcom declared. “In the last ten years, Chancellor Stuart has become one of the largest land developers in the country. He has an uncanny knack for being at the right place at the right time.” His expression grew thoughtful. “He’s building that new resort complex in Tahoe. I wonder what he’s doing in San Francisco.”
    â€œI expect that is precisely what darling Jacqui is trying to find out,” Ellery surmised.

    â€œMy reason for coming here is hardly a secret, Miss Van Cleeve.” Chance Stuart let his glance slide briefly to the persistent blonde, recalling Lucianna’s warning that the woman was known for three things: her sharp eyes, her sharp nose, and her sharp tongue. He had to agree—everything about her was pointed, including her questions.
    â€œCall me, Jacqui,” she invited. “Everyone does.”
    â€œThen let me explain again, Jacqui. I was on my way to Tahoe to check on my project there when Lucianna mentioned she was coming to San Francisco. I suggested she fly with me since it wasn’t that much out of my way.”
    â€œThen you aren’t looking for more property?”
    â€œI’m not here for that purpose, but I’m always looking.” He absently swirled the Chivas in his glass, listening to the melodic clink of the ice cubes against the crystal sides. “If you were on vacation and a hot story landed in your lap, would you ignore it?”
    â€œNo,” she admitted.
    â€œNeed I say more?” He lifted the glass to his mouth and tipped it, letting the cold scotch trickle and burn down his throat.
    â€œYou’ve known Miss Colton for some