Chapter One

New Orleans:

The tiny brass bells on the Damaris Detective Agency's front door pealed like thunder in Justine's ears. She held her breath until they jingled again. Good. Tito Benes was gone. She looked down at her hands and counted her fingers. Good. She still had ten.

It was too bad she didn't have anything else to count on.

Her boyfriend, Weston Riley, had dumped her at lunch. She'd returned to find an eviction notice tacked to the front door. Then the capper… Tito showing up to demand she pay back the full amount of her father's gambling debts by the end of the day.

By the end of the day. Where the hell was she going to find that kind of money?

Still shaking, Justine stared out of her open office door at the sleek, modern reception area, bereft of a receptionist. She'd let Sally go three weeks before. Firing her had been like losing family. The last thought tore at her heart and Justine averted her eyes from the darkened office opposite hers.

"Why, Daddy? Why?" she whispered, fingers twisting her dark curls. "How could you leave me to face this alone?" Her hands froze on a tangle. Was that the bell on the front door? It jingled again as the door closed.

Justine sprang to her feet. Oh God! Tito had changed his mind! She was trapped, the only exit was the front door. She had the fleeting impulse to grab the gun in her purse, but knew she'd be signing her death warrant if she used it. Instead, she grabbed the phone and stabbed out the numbers 911.

As the line rang dully in her ear, a shadow filled her office doorway. A shadow too large to be Tito's. Clutching the phone receiver, she turned away from it. She didn't want to see the bullet coming.

"Hello, cheré."

Justine froze. There was no mistaking that seductive Cajun drawl. That velvet voice which haunted her night and day. It belonged to the man who made her boyfriend…her ex-boyfriend, Weston, pale by comparison. The man she'd thought she'd never see again. Gathering every ounce of control she could muster, she carefully hung up the phone and said, "Hello, Reed."

Reed Burkett leaned against the doorjamb, his casual stance betrayed by the intensity of his dark green eyes. "I hope you don't mind me dropping by without an appointment. Couldn't seem to get Sally on the phone."

He was the last person she wanted to see right now, and yet, the only one.

She'd thought he'd cared for her…once. Flushed with the successful conclusion of his case, a single jubilant kiss had flared into something more between them. Desire had pushed pride and common sense aside and for one white-hot night, he had been hers.

When morning came and he told her they'd made a mistake, she hadn't been surprised, but it had hurt all the same. The memory of his rejection jabbed at her heart, the most devastating blow in a day already filled with punches.

How dare he sound nonchalant when her own emotions threatened to boil over? She wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to keep her safe. She wanted to slap that charming, lopsided smile off his face.

Instead, she slumped into her chair. Her legs wouldn't have held her up much longer anyway. "Sally's...taking the day off. Please, come in and take a seat." She nodded stiffly at the leather chairs before her desk.

He smiled, making her already racing heart skip a beat. "Don't mind if I do," he said, pushing away from the door to stroll over to a chair. "You're looking good. Prettier than a sunrise over the bayou."

Justine refrained from returning the compliment, although Reed looked good to her too. Better than good, dammit!

His chestnut hair was pulled back in a rakish ponytail. It was positively sinful the way his broad shoulders filled the dark brown suit. The tanned skin of his high-boned cheeks stood out in stark contrast with his chambray shirt. His royal blue tie, patterned with a spidery yellow lightning bolt, had been loosened in concession to the New Orleans heat and humidity.

Copyright © 2005 Rebecca Vinyard