The Perfect Man. Carla Fredd
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She paused and swallowed. Her mouth felt dry and she wished she’d accepted the secretary’s earlier offer to get her something to drink. “If,” she continued, “you will find something Marc took from my family.” Please, God, she prayed. Please let him accept this offer.
“What did Marc take?”
Renee opened the black portfolio in front of her and slid the photograph across the table. She watched as he picked up the picture and studied it. She was surprised by his lack of reaction to the photo. The picture was flawless like the diamonds in the necklace were—flawless and breathtaking.
“Real diamonds?” he asked, then put the picture on the table.
“Of course,” she said. “I had the necklace appraised again for my great-aunt last year. Here are copies of two appraisals,” she said and gave him a folder.
He took the folder and flipped through the pages. His brows drew together in a frown. “Are you sure Marc took it?”
“I’m positive. My great-aunt asked Marc to take it to the jeweler to have it cleaned. I usually do that for her, but this time she asked Marc to do it. The necklace was in a safe-deposit box and Marc’s initials were on the release form. I’ve contacted all the jewelry stores in Birmingham and none of them had the necklace. I’ve looked through all of Marc’s papers and couldn’t find anything about the necklace.”
“If I decide to look for the necklace, what guarantee do I have that you will keep your word?”
“I will have Terrell draft a contract. You haven’t known me for long and you have no reason to trust me. I understand that. But I have no reason to trust you, either. I think a contract clearly stating the terms would be best.” He seemed like a nice enough guy. He’d tried to create order at Marc’s funeral when the three wives learned of each other’s existence. When she saw him again on the Marc III, the yacht Marc purchased with money he’d stolen from Alex, Chris appeared to honestly want to do what was fair for all of them. Still, she had a hard time trusting him, Marc’s brother, without an iron-clad contract. Marc had shown her that it was best not to trust a Foster man.
“What makes you think I can find this necklace and how long has it been missing?”
“The necklace has been gone for about a month. Why do I think you can find the necklace?” She raised her hand, lifted her index finger. “One. From what I’ve heard, you are good at your job. Two. You work for the FBI and you have access to more resources than a private investigator. Three. I think you want to see the last of me and my lawyer. Because if that necklace isn’t returned to my aunt Gert before she finds out it’s missing, I can guarantee you that I will make this process as slow and painful as possible.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked softly. His pale brown gaze hardened.
Her mouth grew dry like Weiss Lake during last year’s drought. She didn’t want to imagine what he could do to her if he thought she was a threat to him. Marc had been in decent shape, but this man exuded a kind of strength and power that was unmistakable.
“No. I’m not threatening you. I’m just letting you know how important it is for me to get this necklace to Aunt Gert. So do we have a deal?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate and afraid as she was. She leaned her arms on the large conference room table and linked her fingers together to keep them from shaking.
He glanced down at the picture of the necklace that he’d laid on the table in front of him. His long, black lashes concealed his gaze and should have made him look feminine, but there was nothing soft about Chris Foster. He slid the photo to the side. “I’ll help you find the necklace.”
“Great,” she said, nearly sighing in relief. “I figured we could start with Marc’s credit cards.”
“We?”
“Yes, we.”
“I thought the deal was for me to find the necklace.”
“I do want you to find it, but I’m not going to sit around doing nothing.”
“What do you know about recovering stolen jewelry?”
“Nothing, but I do know how to find information and how to find it quickly. This will be a joint effort. I expect you to include me and to use my skills as a research librarian. I won’t be left out of the loop on this.”
“I work better alone.”
“Working alone isn’t an option. It’s all or nothing.”
Chapter 2
Renee sat with her back straight and her hands resting in her lap. After years of Saturday morning etiquette and decorum classes, she was well aware of the calm and relaxed image she projected. She’d learned two important lessons from all those years of misery in classes where she just didn’t fit in with the other girls: straight and erect posture and what she called her “game” face. Social etiquette didn’t make sense to her. There were too many rules and too many exceptions to the rules. But learning to hide her emotions behind the game face had gotten her through the countless social events her parents forced her to attend. It had helped her hide her pain and saved her pride when her parents left her at school during the holidays. This time it wasn’t just her pride at stake. Chris Foster had to accept her offer. He was her last hope.
She kept her expression calm and serene. But her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a box of rocks. She needed his help and she hated feeling so dependent on him. If she could have found a private detective willing to find the necklace without telling her aunt Gert, she would have done everything she could to avoid coming in direct contact with Chris Foster again. The man made her nervous. He was too suave, too sexy, too charming.
To be perfectly honest, it wasn’t his charm that made her nervous. It was the fact that Chris Foster was drop-dead gorgeous. Impossibly long, black eyelashes framed his golden-brown eyes. The combination was all the more disturbing now that she had his complete attention. It was as if he was searching for answers in her expression and he had all the time in the world to find them. She wanted to look away and break the connection his look had forged between them. But she couldn’t afford to back away—not if she wanted to find the necklace.
“All right,” he said, breaking the silence in the conference room. “We’ll work together, but under my terms.”
She silently sighed in relief then tilted her head to the side. The relief she felt warred with suspicion. “What terms?” She needed him, but she’d learned from her mistake with Marc to not totally trust the Foster men.
He rested his arms on the table and leaned forward.
Everything in her wanted to draw closer to him. Renee blinked. Startled by her reaction, she drew back and willed her heart rate to return somewhere close to normal. Years ago, she’d helped her friend, Karen Smithstone, gather research for her thesis on sexual chemistry. Until now, Renee had never experienced the strong sexual attraction described in Karen’s paper. This was just great. Why did he have to produce pheromones that made her body ache? She didn’t care how attracted she was to him. The only thing that mattered was getting the necklace back.
“First,” he said, his voice firm, “we’ll work together, but what I say goes. If I feel the situation is too dangerous for you, you’re out and you’re staying out.”
“If you think the situation is dangerous then I’ll let you handle it, but you can forget the other. This is a partnership, not a dictatorship.”
“Dictatorship,” he said and raised his brows. “Call it whatever you want. You don’t know anything about finding stolen jewelry. Your inexperience could get us both in a tight situation or worse.”
He had a point. “Fine. Teach me what I need to know, but don’t expect me to blindly follow you. This necklace is too important for me to leave it entirely in someone else’s hands.”
“Even if the hands are more capable than yours?”