Page 28 of The Girl Who Knew Too Much

“I have no idea. A word of advice, Miss Glasson. You’re playing with fire. The studio can destroy you and your cheap newspaper in the blink of an eye.”

“Thanks for the quote.”

She turned quickly, instinctively wanting to escape—and collided with a very solid, very unmovable object blocking her path. The shock of the impact rattled her. She gasped, lurched back a step, and found herself off balance.

Oliver used his free hand to steady her.

“Sorry,” he said. But his attention was on Nick Tremayne, not her. “I’ve been looking for you, Miss Glasson,” he said. “The front desk just had a telephone call from Mildred Fordyce at the Cove Inn. Evidently someone in L.A. is trying to reach you. Mildred said it sounded important.”

“Thanks,” Irene mumbled. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and collected herself. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to the inn and return the call.”

“No need to do that,” Oliver said. “You can use the telephone in my office.”

Startled all over again, she stared at him. “Thanks, but that’s not necessary. Really.”

“I insist.” He took her arm. “You’ll have privacy here. You can’t say the same about the telephone in the lobby at the inn.”

She started to argue but something in his eyes made her change her mind.

“Fine,” she said. “Your office. I appreciate it. Don’t worry, if I have to telephone my editor, I’ll reverse the charges.”

“We can discuss the charges later.” Oliver kept his attention on Nick. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay with us, Mr. Tremayne?”

“It’s been interesting,” Nick growled. He did not take his eyes off Irene. “You’ll remember what I said, won’t you, Miss Glasson?”

“Every word,” she vowed.

A shiver whispered through her. She knew that Oliver felt it, because his hand tightened around her elbow in a reassuring way.

“I’ll take you to my office,” he said.

Chapter 13

She did not succeed in taking a deep breath until they were out of the Garden Room. Oliver steered her through the graceful, arched walkway that ran the length of the hotel’s main building.

“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, of course.” She glanced at him. “Was there really a telephone call for me?”

Oliver’s mouth curved faintly. “Yes.”

“Why did you insist that I return it from your office?”

“Just trying to be helpful. The Burning Cove Hotel prides itself on offering our guests every convenience.”

“I’m not a guest.”

“Details.”

“You were trying to send a message to Nick Tremayne, weren’t you? You wanted him to know that you were keeping an eye on me.”

“Maybe.”

“I realize you meant well, but I can’t do my job if you insist on hovering over me.”

“I wasn’t hovering.”

“What would you call it?”

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