The Desperate Game Read Free

you implies that you can be a very warm and charming woman, someone who wouldn't hesitate to let another person call her by a short form of her name," Zac said as the cab swung away from the curb.
    Guinevere noticed that the driver already seemed to have the address. The cab was speeding along Western Avenue toward the Pioneer Square area. In other words, she was being taken home. That information brought an element of relief but not much. Out on the darkness of Elliott Bay a huge cargo ship was making its way cautiously into the port of Seattle. She caught glimpses of its lights between buildings as she looked out through the cab's windows.
    "I limit my warmth and charm to people who aren't prone to kidnapping and blackmail," Guinevere said finally. The backseat of the cab felt crowded. Zac Justis was a little less than six feet in height, and she hadn't noticed any fat on him, but he somehow seemed to fill up all the available space. She felt he was pushing her in more ways than one.
    "Aren't you worried about limiting your circle of acquaintances?"
    "I have a feeling that I've got more friends than you have, Mr. Justis." She kept her eyes on the night-darkened scene visible through the cab's windows.
    "You're probably right," he admitted dryly. Then he leaned forward to tap the driver's shoulder. "That's the building there on the left."
    Guinevere resisted the urge to comment scathingly on his knowledge of her address. He was probably trying to impress her with just how much information he had. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of demanding further explanations.
    Without a word she stepped out of the cab and waited stoically while her unwanted escort paid the driver. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he tipped carefully but not at all lavishly. A man who watched his money. She could identify, however unwillingly, with that. Sighing, she fished her key out of a zippered pocket on the tote.
    "I suppose you intend to come upstairs?" she muttered as Zac walked toward her.
    "How can I turn down such a generous invitation?"
    Closing her teeth very firmly against the retort that hovered in her throat, Guinevere led the way through the well-lit entrance of the brick building and up one flight of stairs. The facade of her apartment building was a stately design of arching windows and ornamental detail that dated back to the turn of the century. The inside had been gutted and completely renovated with the goal of capturing the attention of the new urban pioneer: the single person who wanted to live downtown and demanded something more interesting than a bare box.
    "All right, Mr. Justis," Guinevere said as she opened the door of her apartment, "let's hear what you have to say about blackmail and StarrTech. And then you can leave."
    His mouth curved slightly at one corner and there was a reluctantly appreciative expression in his eyes as he followed her through the door. He came to a halt on the threshold and absorbed the brilliant impact of color that greeted him.
    "Somehow it looks like you. Unexpected."
    He walked toward the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, which was painted with yolk-colored enamel. En route he noticed slate gray carpets bordered in red. There was more red throughout the apartment: a red window seat, a red-painted desk with red bookcases behind it, and a red shelf in the entrance hall. The yellow reappeared elsewhere in the shape of a tea cart and a trash can beside the desk. The room seemed to be anchored by the few pieces of furniture, all of which were in black. The night was locked out with miniblinds custom-designed to fit the high, arched windows.
    "I'm surprised you find anything about me unexpected. You seem to have done a fairly thorough job of snooping." Guinevere tossed her tote bag onto the tea cart and stepped out of the pumps with an exclamation of relief. Barefooted, she lost a couple of inches of height, but a few centimeters weren't enough to make her feel any more in charge of the