To Love a Scoundrel Read Free Page B

himself—"that one of those French chefs makes more money than he does, and Mclntyre is the president of the bank."
    Jewel issued a long low whistle. "I'm starting to get impressed, but why would I have to be plain if the food is fancy? Wouldn't I be more apt to get the job dressed like this?" She spread her arms, and then another thought occurred to her. "Or have you already arranged with this Harvey fellow to hire me?"
    "I'll answer your last question first. While I trust Mclntyre's judgment, I haven't had the opportunity to meet or assess this Fred Harvey for myself. I think it would be wiser in this case if you get the job yourself. You'll also have the responsibility," he added with a wink, "of finding a way to keep it."
    Flashing her employer an injured expression, Jewel lifted her chin and said, "Are you suggesting I'm not capable of serving a few plates of fried ham and eggs?"
    "Not at all, dear girl. What I am suggesting is that you may have a bit of difficulty abiding by Harvey's strict rules."
    Her chin snapped down and her eyes flew open. "Rules? What kind of rules?"
    Allan pushed out of his chair and lumbered over to the door, half dragging his game leg, and called to his secretary, "Maggie? Would you please ask Mac to step in here for a minute?'' With a short nod into the other room, he turned and made his way back to his desk.
    "Harvey has rules the likes of which you've never seen," he finally answered with a chuckle. "That's why I want you as plain as you can get. Harvey's been losing his pretty waitresses in record numbers to the lonesome cattlemen who hang around the depot. He's beginning to hire plain girls instead of pretty ones. We can't have that beautiful face of yours messing up your chances of landing this job."
    "You'd flatter your own mother if you thought you could get her to go under cover for one of your escapades."
    Laughing, Allan rested his hip against the edge of his desk. "Once Harvey's hired you," he continued, "you're only halfway there. He'll tell you how to dress, when to talk, and most difficult to accept, where to live."
    "But how can I—"
    "That's one reason I've decided to send MacMillan along with you on this job. We'll try to get around that little rule with his help. Besides, it can't hurt to have two of my finest people chasing after two of the best criminal minds we've ever run across."
    But she knew him too well for that, understood that he was somehow concerned for her safety as well. Jewel stood up. "This is going to be tougher than I first thought, isn't it?"
    Allan averted his gaze and stared down at the floor before he finally said, "It could get real tough—real nasty, too. Harry Benton is a swindler, pure and simple. He doesn't concern me, but Jesse James does. To my knowledge, Jesse's never shot a woman, but then, he's never been the object of such an intense manhunt before, either. I'll understand if you don't want to accept this assignment."
    With a barely perceptible nod she informed him she did understand, then strolled over to the window. The sun had fought its way through the fog and split the horizon. Gripping the windowsill, Jewel leaned forward and closed her eyes. She'd been in danger before. Even the report she'd just turned in related the incident with the Connors fellow and his gun at her throat. Danger was part of the job.
    Was it really Jesse James and his ruthless disregard for the lives of others that concerned Allan so? Or was he closing in on the truth about her insatiable thirst for information on Harry Benton—her obsession, as he'd said—to track the man down?
    Jewel took several mind-clearing breaths. The soft, comforting aroma of fresh-baked bread called to her, mingled with the sharp, fresh scent of cedar permeating Allan's office. The combination was as reassuring as it was intriguing, made her feel anxious and comforted at the same time. Then Archie MacMillan burst into the room.
    "Looking for me, boss?" he said through a sparkling