The Rebel Tycoon's Outrageous Proposal

He was entitled to that much, Holly conceded. “David Fletcher and I went into business together two years ago, after we met at a conference. We were both unhappy with our jobs, and our different skills meshed well—he’s good at client relationships.”

“The schmoozing, you mean.” Jared looked her up and down with that faintly insulting scrutiny. “I can see you’re not a schmoozer.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She sat back in her seat while the waiter set her appetizer in front of her—a salmon kebab in a coconut curry sauce. It smelled divine, and she took a moment to inhale its spicy perfume, eyes closed.

That sensual gesture took Jared by surprise. Holly had ordered her food in a no-nonsense series of instructions—the waiter had practically saluted when she’d finished. Now she acted as if she’d dreamed of a meal like this her whole life.

Jared hadn’t planned on wine with their meal. But if Holly really wanted to appreciate her salmon, he knew just the Sonoma Chardonnay to go with it. She didn’t look worried when he ordered a bottle—just sent him an appreciative glance from beneath lowered lids, in a way he found curiously appealing. He shook his head. Holly Stephens was not his type.

For a few minutes, they ate in silence.

“How’s your salmon?” he asked eventually.

“Superb. And this wine is great with it. How’s your tuna carpaccio?” she asked.

“Excellent.” Belatedly, he realized she was eyeing the wafer-thin slices of raw tuna with the anticipatory delight of a tax inspector scenting a scam. “Would you like to try it?”

“Yes, please.” She pushed her side plate across the table toward him.

“What’s that for?”

“Put it on there—the tuna.” It was the same tone she’d used to give orders to the waiter earlier.

He forked a piece of tuna and held it across the table an inch from her lips. “Here.”

She frowned. “Just put it on the—oomph!”

Jared had taken advantage of her mouth being open and pushed the fork right in. Involuntarily, Holly detached the tuna before she pushed the fork away. He was right, it was excellent. But that wasn’t the point.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped. “No, don’t answer that. Just quit playing games.”

“You’re the boss.” Sarcasm edged his voice, and he said no more until he’d demolished the rest of the tuna without offering her another taste. With a satisfied sigh, he resumed the conversation.

“How do you think Fletcher got away with his crime, given you’re so eagle-eyed?”

“You don’t know Dave is to blame. He may be on vacation just as he said. The Mexican authorities have confirmed that he flew into the country last Saturday.”

“Who else could it be—if it’s not you?”

“It’s not,” she said sharply. “The FBI suspects me because my PIN was used to transfer client funds.”

“Who else knew your PIN?”

“No one.” Holly grimaced. “As I repeatedly told Agent Crook before he revealed that my number was used.”

Jared frowned. “You should have a lawyer with you to talk to the Feds.”

“I didn’t think I needed one. I didn’t think there could be any evidence to link me to the crime.”

Jared looked as if he might argue with her logic. Then he gave a small shrug. “So somehow Fletcher found your PIN?”

“I don’t keep it written down,” she said. “The only way he—whoever did this—could have found it would be with one of those security-cracking computer programs that reads your PIN when you enter it online, and e-mails it to the thief.”

Jared nodded. He’d been offered those programs several times over the years—and had resisted the temptation, even when he would have dearly loved an inside track on the machinations of the man he planned to ruin.

“If Fletcher did do it,” he said, “how come you never figured out what was going on?”

Holly’s gaze centered somewhere above Jared’s head. When she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically diffident. “Dave and I became more than business partners over the past year.”

Jared gave a low whistle. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to mix business and pleasure?”

She scowled, and he figured that despite her intention of being more tolerant, Holly was mortified that Jared, a man she considered her moral inferior, was in a position to take the high ground.

“We got to be friends, that’s all. But recently Dave said he wanted to take things further. I wasn’t keen, so I avoided him, tried not to stay late at the office if he was there. I was less likely to notice if he was doing anything unusual.”

“So you weren’t sleeping partners?”

“Of course not.” Her eyes widened as if the possibility had never occurred to her. “We worked well together, we enjoyed each other’s company, we liked the same books and videos, but—”

Jared yawned conspicuously. “Give me a woman who doesn’t understand me anytime. Did it occur to you Dave might have died of boredom—his body might be waiting to be found?”

“It did occur to me he might be dead.” Holly’s seriousness provoked an unwelcome twinge of guilt in Jared. “Leaving your ridiculous conjecture aside, I did wonder if someone blackmailed Dave, then killed him.”

For an accountant, she had a good imagination. There was even a chance she could be right. But with the FBI tipped off that Holly was the thief, it seemed more likely Fletcher had done a runner and was trying to distract the Feds.

“Imagine for a minute you’re wrong, and Fletcher did steal the money just because he wanted to.” Jared grinned at Holly’s frown. Imagining she was wrong obviously didn’t sit well with her. “Where would Fletcher go? Does he have family?”

Holly’s brow wrinkled as she tried to remember. “He has a sister in upstate New York. His parents are dead. His mother was from New Zealand—he may have family there.”

“Did you tell the FBI that?”

“I didn’t remember until you asked me. Anyway, I don’t believe Dave stole the money, so it’s not relevant.”

Jared slapped his forehead. “Why are you so reluctant to admit you made a bad call going into business with him? Your clients’ money is missing, your partner has vanished—” she opened her mouth to correct him “—and don’t give me that crock about him being on vacation. Face it, two and two add up to four.”

She sat still for maybe half a minute, absorbing his words. Then she said, “I went into business with Dave because I trusted him. The FBI thinks the evidence points to my guilt, but I know their two and two doesn’t add up to four. So I have to give Dave the benefit of the doubt, too. This is about truth and…and justice and… and the American way.”

“You’re relying on Superman to get you out of this?”

She pinkened. “It’s about playing fair.”

Didn’t she know life wasn’t fair, that applying her high-and-mighty ethics to the situation wouldn’t change anything? He’d learned the hard way that unless you fought against it, injustice would prevail. “If you want to find Dave, to set your mind at ease, I know someone who could help.” But he was wasting his breath.

“Leave it, Jared,” she said. “I don’t need your help, or your private detectives, or your theories about the missing money. I’ll fight my own battles, my way.”

The woman was pigheaded to the point of impossibility, and bossy. Jared had never liked bossy women.

Given the way he planned to use her, it was better to dislike her. Better not to feel a thrill of challenge when she gave back as good as she got.