Page 39 of Final Cost

“I have news,” he says without preamble. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

Then he hangs up.

I turn to Tamsyn, who’s watching me closely. “He has news for me. Pray it’s good news.”

“Prayers up,” she says with a grim nod. She throws the covers back and starts to get out of bed. “I’ll find something to do to stay out of your hair. Just make sure you text me when you’re done meeting with him. I’m dying to know what’s going on.”

I also get up, relishing the quick but tantalizing view of her round ass before she makes it disappear by sliding her arms into her robe. It’s a little too soon for me to feel ready to go again, but the good thing about this reconciliation is that we’ll be together again tonight. And that’s a wonderful thing. “Why not come with me? This concerns your life, too. Right?”

“Right.” She eyes me warily. “That’s very transparent of you. Not manipulative at all.”

Glad she noticed. “I’m working on doing things different with you this time. Better.”

She hesitates, looking startled but delighted as she belts her robe. “Really?”

“Really. I don’t want to mess things up again. Plus, I don’t want to let you out of my sight or out of arms reach now that we’re back together. Maybe I shouldn’t admit that. Maybe that’s too overbearing for you…?”

She gives it the old college try, but she can’t hold back her smile or her flush of pleasure any more than I can hold back mine. “It’s wildly overbearing. But I’m willing to overlook it. Just this once. Shower?”

“If you insist,” I say, already on my way.

We’re dressed and ready with time to spare. She takes my hand as we leave the bedroom and start down the staircase, another small pleasure that thrills me to the roots of my hair. “You think Chef made pancakes for breakfast today? I’m in the mood for pancakes.”

“I thought you understood.” I reel her in for a quick kiss. “You can have pancakes every day of the week for the rest of your life if you want. Chef is here to do what we ask him to do.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be too much trouble —oh, Daniel. Hi.”

I’ve been so wrapped up in her that I hadn’t seen Daniel come out of the dining room, but there he is with his steaming cup of coffee, staring up at us and our happy faces with open astonishment. But no one is more astonished at my sudden reversal of fortune than I am.

“Tamsyn. Lucien.” He recovers quickly and raises his cup in a toast to us. “Things are well, I take it?”

I only manage to squash about 85% of my grin. “Things would be great if my investigator has good news for me. He’s on his way. You should stick around.”

“You got it,” Daniel says.

My investigator, Randy Jacobs, is the best in the business, which is why I trust him with two huge tasks at once—finding Winwood and looking into Ravenna’s death. He arrives just as we grab coffee and convene in my study, then wastes no time pulling something up on his iPad and connecting it to the TV screen.

“What’s this?” I say, squinting at the white overhead images of a parking lot at night and trying to come up to speed. “Is that the parking lot from the inn?”

“That’s right. Footage from the inn’s security cameras the night you kicked Ravenna out of the house,” Randy says. “Watch.”

We watch. And see a Jaguar zoom into view and lurch to a stop in a parking space about twenty or thirty feet away from the camera, closely followed by a Range Rover that parks in the space behind her.

“Oh, my God,” Tamsyn says. “It’s Ravenna.”

“And Winwood,” Daniel adds.

We watch as Ravenna gets out of the Jag, her flimsy robe falling away from her pale legs as she climbs out. Winwood gets out of the Range Rover and intercepts her. She seems startled. They speak urgently, with Ravenna gesturing toward the inn and Winwood moving his hands in an unmistakablecalm downgesture. Ravenna nods, takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. And then she looks up at Winwood and watch it all happen as though I’d scripted it myself. It would almost be comical if the situation didn’t have such dire consequences for me and my life.

Ravenna takes another look at him. A good look. The footage may be somewhat grainy, but some things are hard to miss, especially when you’ve seen this performance before. No one does seduction quite like Ravenna. She eases closer to him, tipping her face up. Winwood goes still. She hesitates, looks away, then looks back at him, the kind of tremulous look that says that she needs fucking and/or saving and Winwood is the only man in the world — hell, the universe — up to the job.

I ought to know. I was the recipient of that same act more times than I care to remember.

To his credit, Winwood tries to resist. He does a decent job. I’ll give him that.It’s not a good idea. We shouldn’t. I work for Lucien.That’s his body language. But he’s no match for Ravenna. No one ever is. And when she steps forward that last little bit, presses her body full against him, wraps her arm around his neck and licks her way deep into his mouth, Winwood resists. For a full half second or so. Then he returns the kiss with compounded interest and helps himself to handfuls of her ass.

Tamsyn, Daniel and I all react at the same time.

“Iknewit,” I say.

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