Our Little Secret by Starr Ambrose

“Here, hold these. You look at each one first, then pass it to me.”

    It hadn’t been smart, having her sit next to him. She was attractive and spirited, which aroused a feeling he’d normally follow up on, but there was little point in pursuing it with Lauren. They were going to end up hating each other if she wasn’t there already. He already despised the social climbing tramp who’d married his father, and despite an instinctive faith in Lauren, she was the tramp’s sister. Better to keep things impersonal, allowing everyone to enjoy their mutual distrust later. Besides, whether what’s-his-name was a poor choice or not, she had a fiancé.

    Lauren scrutinized each paper before passing it to him. He glanced at the vehicle registration she’d just examined at length and suppressed an amused snort as he set it aside. “You’re taking this search pretty seriously, aren’t you?”

    Her eyes flashed disapproval. “Of course I am. My sister suddenly married a notorious playboy twice her age, has dirty pictures of herself hidden away, and two men with guns are trying to kidnap her. I want to know why, and I intend to examine every detail of her life I can find.” She slapped a paper in his hands. “Here, see if everything looks normal on this statement. I wouldn’t know.”

    He scanned the annual report from an investment firm. “I wouldn’t either. You aren’t suggesting I look for suspiciously large withdrawals of cash, are you?”

    “Or deposits,” she said seriously. “We don’t know what we’re looking for, so we have to look everywhere, for everything.”

    He should probably snap back in his dad’s defense, but since her doubts about Harlan Creighton were no different than his low expectations about her sister, he let it go. Besides, he didn’t want to argue with her. If she got all huffy, she might not let him sit beside her and catch whiffs of her hair, or notice the way she caught her lip in her teeth when she concentrated.

    She was doing that now, as she stared at another financial report. “Diligent, aren’t you?” he said. She ignored him. Her hair had fallen forward as she bent over the next folder, and he couldn’t see her face. He liked it better when she looked at him. “Good work ethic. I’ll bet financial management requires all sorts of rules and procedures. No room for creativity.”

    It was like poking a caged animal just to see what it would do. Not nice, but it got a reaction.

    She brushed back her hair, fixing him with a regal, I-am-not-amused stare. “Are you calling me anal?”

    Her eyes looked gray in this light, but not the least bit dull. They still had a nice, sparkly quality when she was annoyed. “
Are
you anal? Not that it wouldn’t be useful. I’ll bet being thorough comes in handy with whatever it is that financial managers do.”

    She squinted at him, probably trying to decide if telling him was worth the effort. “I do cost analysis for an engineering firm,” she said.

    “Uh-huh,” he said agreeably. “Interesting.”

    “It is,” she told him, instantly defensive. He didn’t give a damn what she said about cost analysis. He watched her eyes, trying to decide between gray orgreen. “I look at the projected cost of a job and determine how much the company can afford to bid. It’s a very responsible position, and I’m very good at it.”

    Drew smiled and took the folder from her hands. “I believe you.”

    Her look said he probably couldn’t tell a profit-loss column from a grocery list. “What do you do?”

    “I ski.” He flipped through the folder he held, then set it aside, letting her grapple with the concept of skiing as a career before he elaborated. “I run a small ski resort in Colorado, which is an excuse for doing what I like best—climbing and skiing.” He left it at that, knowing she’d assume the worst.

    “You’re a ski bum?” Her disbelief was mixed with an equal amount of disdain.

    “I prefer to think of