Page 17 of High Value Target

An hour later, Grady peered through the sheer curtains of the French doors off the breakfast room. Tinsley sat outside at a glass table. Even through the panes, Grady could overhear her begging Palmer to stay.

“Why must you always run off? We haven’t even had breakfast.”

“We have all had breakfast, Tins. You’re the one who slept in late.”

“I didn’t sleep in late. I was in the ring at sunrise, putting Pharaoh through his paces.” She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. “And now I have a pounding headache. Don’t you even care?”

“Of course, Tins. That’s why I had the maid bring you aspirin. What more do you want me to do? You down lemon drop martinis like water all night, then put yourself through training at the crack of dawn, and now you wonder why you have a hangover.” He stood and leaned to kiss the top of her head. “I’m sure you’ll live, dear. I’ve got to run.”

Grady watched the man head around to the driveway where a car was waiting, Perry in the driver’s seat. Grady clicked on his radio, calling the man at the front gate. “The Pace brothers are leaving.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once they pulled away, Grady opened the door and headed outside to join Tinsley. It was always a fine line between invading a client’s space and keeping close. He’d given her time with Palmer. Now she was alone, and he didn’t like that. He especially didn’t like how Palmer had blown her off.

Grady walked up to the table and glanced at her sullen expression. She looked like a four-year-old who’d just been told she couldn’t go to Disney World.

“Go away.” She didn’t even look at him.

“Can’t do that.”

“Well, I’m going shopping today, and you’re not invited.”

“You don’t go anywhere without me, Miss Wyatt. Those are the rules.”

“Screw your rules.”

“What’s the matter? Did Mr. Pace have better things to do?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Maria carried out a tray with a silver pot of coffee, a pitcher of ice water, and a pretty blue and white porcelain bowl of daintily cut fresh fruit, which she set in front of Tinsley along with a silver spoon.

“Will that be all, Miss Tinsley?”

“Yes. Thank you, Maria.” Tinsley, her elbow on the glass table, didn’t bother to lift her head off her fist.

Maria looked at Grady. “More coffee, señor?”

“No, thank you, Maria.”

She turned, her starched white apron tied in the back with a bow, and retreated inside.

Tinsley pushed the bowl away. “Making friends with the help, are you?”

“I’m just likable.”

She snorted. “Right.”

“What’s the matter? Did you just find out the world doesn’t revolve around you? Here, let me pour you a tall glass ofget over it.” He picked up the pitcher of water and filled her glass.

She grabbed the goblet and threw the water in his face, then jumped to her feet and ran toward the driveway where a white Mercedes SL sat.

Grady wiped a hand down his face, shaking the water off. “Miss Wyatt. Wait.” She ignored him. “Goddamn it. Wait.”

She jumped in her car and roared off, laughing as he chased after her fifty yards down the drive. Using his radio to call the front gate, he barked, “Don’t let Miss Wyatt leave.” A moment later, he watched her car veer off the blacktop and crash into an azalea bush.

His eyes widened, and he raced to it. Just as he made it down the drive, his heart pounding, she jumped out of the car, screaming.

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