The Pint-Sized Secret Read Free Page B

any rate, she wasn’t adorned with expensive diamonds, which might be telltale bounty from any ill-gotten gains.
    “Find anything interesting?” he asked eventually, trying to tame hormones that seemed inclined to run amok at the mere sight of her.
    Her head shot up, and startled blue-green eyes stared at him guiltily…or so he thought. Was she trying to pinpoint a new site she could pass on to the competition? When she made no attempt to hide the map, he told himself he was being ridiculous. Any investigator worth the title should think more rationally and behave more objectively than he was at this moment. So far, he had suspicions and coincidence and not much else, yet he’d already all but tried and convicted her.
    “You,” she said, as if he were a particularly annoying interruption, despite the fact that they probably hadn’t exchanged more than a few dozen words since she’d been hired.
    “Now is that any way to greet a man who’s come bearing coffee and pastry?”
    “No thanks,” she said, pointedly going back to her study of the map.
    Ignoring the blatant dismissal, Jeb crossed the room and perched on the corner of her desk, close enough to be impossible for her to ignore. He opened the bag he’d brought, removed two cups of coffee and two warm cheese Danishes. He wafted one, then another under her nose. Though she didn’t look up, there was no mistaking her subtle sniff of the aroma.
    “Tempting, aren’t they?”
    She heaved a resigned sigh, then sat back. “You’re not going to go away, are you?” Despite the exasperation in her tone, there was a faint hint of a smile on her lips.
    He beamed at her. “Nope.” He held out the coffee. She accepted it with exaggerated reluctance, took a quick sip, then another slow, appreciative swallow.
    “You didn’t get this here,” she said. “Not even the executive dining room makes coffee like this.”
    “Nope. I made a stop at a bakery.”
    She regarded him warily. “Why?”
    “No special reason.”
    “Of course not,” she said with blatant skepticism. “This is something you make a habit of doing for everyone around here. Sort of an executive welcoming committee, a way to let the troops know that management cares. Today just happens to be my turn.”
    “Exactly.”
    Her unflinching gaze met his. “Bull, Mr. Delacourt.”
    Startled by the direct hit, he laughed. This was going to be more fun than he’d anticipated. “You don’t mince words, do you, Mrs. O’Ryan?”
    “Not enough time in the day as it is. Why waste it searching for polite phrases when the direct approach is quicker?”
    “A woman after my own heart,” Jeb concluded. “Okay, then. I’ll be direct, too. I have a charity ball to attend on Friday. It’s for a good cause. The food and wine promise to be excellent. How about going with me?”
    “Thanks, but no thanks.”
    Vaguely insulted by the quick, unequivocal—if not unexpected—refusal, Jeb pulled out his trump card. “Max Coleman will be there,” he said innocently, watching closely for a reaction. Other than a slight narrowing of her lips, there was nothing to give away the fact that the name meant anything at all to her. He pressed harder. “Might be interesting to see how he reacts to knowing just how well you’re doing at Delacourt Oil, don’t you think?”
    “Max Coleman is slime,” she said at once. “I don’t care what he thinks.”
    “Sure you do, sweetheart. It wouldn’t be human not to want a little revenge against a man who fired you.” He let his gaze travel slowly over her, waited until he saw the color rise in her cheeks before adding, “You look very human to me.” He winked. “Pick you up at six-thirty.”
    He headed for the door, anticipating all the way that she might contradict him, might refuse even more emphatically, though he knew he’d found her Achilles’ heel.
    Instead, she said softly, “Formal?”
    He turned back, feigning confusion. “What was that?”
    She frowned at