Secrets Of The Outback

“Why? Is it any of your business?”

“In my view, yes. If you think it’s within your rights to investigate me, why should you object to my right to investigate you? Unless you think being very wealthy gives you some authority over the rest of us.”

He turned his lean body so he was confronting her. “What is it, Ms. Bishop, that you hope to achieve? To get close to Lady Copeland? To make yourself a member of the family? You don’t know Travis.” He shook his head. “He won’t be very pleased to welcome you. Neither will Amelia. You’re already the cause of intense emotional anguish.”

“How?” Jewel demanded, holding his eyes. “No speaking in tongues this time. How exactly?”

His answer, when it came, took her completely by surprise. “You’re pretty damn amazing, you know that?”

“I don’t care for you, either.” She was barely able to remain seated beside him. Large as the interior of the Rolls was, she had never felt so claustrophobic. “In fact, I’ve never met a man I find so hateful.”

“Words. Mere words, Ms. Bishop. What you are is somewhat wary of me. As you should be.”

“Particularly as you appear to be stalking me.”

His laugh was unexpected and profoundly attractive. “I prefer to say ‘running a few checks.’”

“Well, I hope you’ve dropped Blair Skinner from your investigation,” Jewel said. “He’s as straightforward as anyone you could meet.”

He pondered that a while. “I wouldn’t have thought him the sort of man to pull something like this.”

“Something like what?” Her eyes opened wide in indignation. “This colossal con? Is that what it’s supposed to be?”

He smiled slightly, no humor in it. “Perhaps if I keep you off balance, you’ll crack.”

“To hell with that!” Jewel muttered, one arm extended toward the door. “There is where I get off.”

“Of course.” He nodded his coal-black head. “Perhaps you’ll invite me inside for a drink. I haven’t seen the place since they renovated. One of our subsidiary companies did the job. Leave the door,” he advised. “You can depend on Jacob to open it.”

Jewel took a deep breath, glancing at him slowly. “Oh, what it is to be rich!” she said in a bitter voice. “Attendants on every side—and the power to inspire fear.”

“When did you decide you wanted that, too?” he asked tautly.

“I have enough money to live on.” She shot him a disgusted look.

“You’ve got no money,” he corrected, rather indolently.

“I beg your pardon.” She thought she’d been holding her own but that got to her. He had taken the time to find out everything, it seemed. A massive invasion of her privacy.

“A very nice town house,” he continued in a deceptively pleasant tone. “You’re paying it off. And look at your beautiful clothes!” He shifted slightly to gaze at her, making her very conscious of her body. “Buying clothes must take a lot of your pay.”

Jewel stared back for a few moments, her cheeks burning. “God, you’re offensive.”

“I just keep thinking about what you’re trying to do,” he countered quietly.

“What? Join the Copeland family?” She spoke crisply. “Come on, give me a clue. Instead of looking down your arrogant nose at me. Why don’t you share your suspicions? That would be a good start. Obviously, your thoughts differ appreciably from mine.”

He wondered how much longer she’d be able to keep up the act, drawn and repelled at the same time. Then he said what he had never intended. Judgment clouded by a beautiful woman? “I’m prepared to talk over a quick drink.”

She blinked hard and looked away. “Otherwise, say goodbye to my career, my reputation?”

“That’s a take-it-or-leave-it offer,” he answered.

EVERYONE LOOKED AT THEM when they walked into the quiet elegance of the Caxton’s lounge. There were a few male guests mixed in with the women. All were seated in comfortable leather armchairs ranged around circular tables, nursing drinks and talking in a relaxed fashion. Most of them Jewel knew. She smiled, waved and nodded her way across the room with its attractive contemporary carpet, while most of the eyes widened and the smiles grew.

“It’s Jewel—and just see who she’s with!”

What they couldn’t know was that she wasn’t enjoying it. She felt like a fictional character, aware of the little eddies of excitement that ran through the room. Keefe Connellan knew quite a few people, too, because he lifted his hand, that beautiful white smile flashing.

No sooner were they seated at a quiet table for two overlooking the small rear garden than a waiter appeared, bending over deferentially. “Good evening, Mr. Connellan. Miss Bishop.”

Jewel nodded, doing her best to smile. “Good evening, Archie.”

“That’s it—Archie.” Connellan took a long look at the waiter. “You worked at the Polo Club for a while?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the Queensland. You get around, Archie.”

Archie nodded, grinning delightedly. “I like a change. Could I take your order, sir?”

Keefe Connellan looked at the quietly seething Jewel, with her golden hair. “No one drinks much anymore. Not when they’re going on to an evening appointment,” he said, a little sarcastically.

“A martini,” she said. “A very, very dry martini. One olive.”

“Fabulous!” Connellan said. “I’ll join you.”

“When can we stop all this?” Jewel asked, after Archie had gone, his expression conveying his absolute fascination at seeing them together. “I think we’ve moved beyond the conspiracy theory.”

“All right.” He leaned forward, stared into her deeply blue, black-lashed eyes, aware that every man in the room was staring at her. Why not? Physically she was an inspiration. It was her character that worried him. “One doesn’t have to be a super-sleuth to realize you’re somehow related to Lady Copeland. Either that or you’ve had plastic surgery.”

She forcibly shut down her mounting panic. “What do you think?”

“I can’t even see the tiniest wrinkle. You have beautiful skin. This, of course, we already know.”

Despite the mocking banter, Jewel felt chilled. “I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about. I know of no connection. I’ve lived my life a thousand miles from her. I’ve already told you that. It would save a lot of time if you answered my questions honestly instead of shrouding everything in mystery.”

“You didn’t happen to discuss all this with your mother?” he asked, eyes piercing. “I’m prepared to believe she didn’t tell you until very recently.”

“Tell me what? That I was snatched from the cradle? There was a mix-up at the hospital?” She looked highly skeptical. “That I’m someone’s love child?”

“Hadn’t you already suspected it?” he asked quietly.

Jewel felt the pain attack her temples. “I’m going to get up and go now. What you’re saying is impossible. Unforgivable, really.”

“Please don’t.” He reached out, putting his hand over hers, an action she knew would be totally misinterpreted by everyone watching them. “God only knows what people here would make of it,” he murmured.

Her cheeks were flushed, and not only with anger. “I don’t understand any of this. I only met Lady Copeland today.”