The Diamond Conspiracy: A Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences Novel by Philippa Ballantine, Tee Morris

in front of her. “You know how I hate the cold.” Her voice was surprisingly light for such a tall woman, and marked with the stain of the upper class. “I thought a change of scenery was in order. Somewhere warmer.”
    He couldn’t help laughing at that. “Darlin’, you’ve come to the right place. We only have two seasons down here: bloody hot, and bloody hot and wet. But I don’t think either of those are the reason for your little visit to Rocky.” He leaned forwards a bit. “You aren’t getting lonely, are you?”
    The Department agent stiffened, and a flicker of anger over her features told him she was only barely keeping herself in check. That temperament was yet another reason he’d enjoyed her company so much. Beatrice had always been a very passionate person.
    “Not at all,” she finally replied silkily. “In fact, I am far too busy to get lonely. The Department is keeping me on my toes.”
    “Really?” Bruce tilted his head. “Now that’s quite a turn asonly a few months ago, I heard—oh, what was that bloke’s name?—Bernard Wilson, that’s it. I heard Wilson say the Department was coming up a bit short when it came to casework and funding for projects.”
    “Oh, we’re getting the funding now,” she replied, and now there was a hint of a smile around her lips. “The higher ups finally came round.”
    He didn’t let it show on his face, but that didn’t settle well with Bruce. The Department had always been the poor sister of the Ministry, either taking the leftover cases that were the most ridiculous or cleaning up after the Ministry when things got messy. A good example was that whole Phoenix Society hullabaloo. Tidying up after that affair, and trying to quell the two neighbouring towns that the Havelock Manor employed, stretched their resources thin. Truthfully, investigating strange lights in the sky and tracking down fairy folk made the Department the butt of many a joke back at the Ministry. Well, the butt of
his
jokes when he was at the Ministry, anyway.
    Hearing that the Department now had received favours from those closer to the Crown made his skin crawl.
    Bruce pushed his beer back and forth a little. “Did you using any of your amazing charms have anything to do with that? I bet lots of those lords would love a—”
    Beatrice cut him off before he could say anything more. “That has nothing to do with it. Things have changed.” Her ice-chip blue eyes locked with his. “And that uncanny perception of yours is exactly the reason why I happen to be here in charming Rockhampton. We are in need of talent.”
    That look was so sharp, Bruce felt pinned to the bar stool for a moment. He knew when a lady wanted him; it was a special ability of his, honed from years of experience, and the look Beatrice was giving him now was familiar. He covered his surprise and the twitch in his trousers by taking a small sip of his beer.
    She must have recognised the look on his face, because her jaw tightened again. “Not that kind of talent, you git! I meant, for the Department. We have a vacancy.”
    Bruce snorted as one of his jokes, specifically the one about how those not good enough for the Ministry went towork for the Department, sprang to mind. “I don’t know if you can afford me, darlin’.”
    Beatrice leaned in close. From this angle he had quite a delightful view of her impressive cleavage. “We need you, love . . . and we have the money to allow you that kind of life you enjoy. Excitement. Danger.” She gave Bruce a wry smile as she reached for the shot of whiskey he’d forgotten about, and toasted to him. “Maybe, even me.”
    The mention of money did intrigue him, since he did prefer wine, women, and song to beer, whores, and accordion music. The offer from Beatrice, as well as the sight of her kicking back that whiskey, made this development even more tempting. However, he was not going to slide into bed with the Department without knowing exactly what they wanted.