“We'll search your desk,” Gemma assured Gracie.
“Thank you. Gemma, sugar?”
“Yes?”
“I want . . . Idearly wantto know everything about my story with Paul.”
“I understand. I'll do my best.”
ChapterFive
When Gemma ushered Jude inside her house on Friday for their second after-work, after-dark meeting, the sight of him hit her first. His thick hair, the thoughtful set of his lips, the beautifully sculptedVof his jaw. More than six feet of lean, muscular man dressed in a crisp business shirt and suit pants.
Quickly on the heels of all that, she noted his cologne. It had base notes of oakmoss, tobacco, and smoky vetiver. It mingled with his body chemistry brilliantly, producing an excellent masculine scent.
“Good evening,” he said. Stiff and proper as usual.
“Welcome.”
He took off his coat while she went around turning on lights and lamps. She hated gloomy houses at nighttime. She was very much an every-light-burning-until-bedtime person.
Returning to where he'd positioned himself in the kitchen, she said, “Clam chowder. It’s what’s for dinner.”
His mouth tightened. Clearly, he didn’t like that she was interrupting his business meeting with a meal again. The fact that she was interrupting his business meetings with meals on purpose had not seemed to occur to him.
She and Jude Camden were like a fox and an eagle. In nature, they would not coexist. Which meant she was going to have to work to establish a rapport between them. Or, at the very least, establish the ability toactas if they had a rapport. They were never going to achieve that sitting across from each other with notepads and pens in their hands.
“What can I do to help?” he asked, apparently deciding not to fight her on dinner this time.
“Nothing. It’s all ready to go. Take a seat.” She ladled chowder into thick antique ceramic bowls. They settled into the same places at her table they’d occupied the last time.
For a few quiet minutes, they sampled the soup. Thanks to all the cream and salt she’d added, the laws of the universe dictated that itmustbe delicious. And it was.
He pulled a neatly folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “Since you weren’t interested in discussing my backstory the last time we met, I’ve printed it out for you.”
She was tempted to respond with a mocking, “Thank you Agent Camden, sir!” and a salute. But she valiantly held that back.
While continuing to savor her soup, she glanced over the page. It contained a slew of dry information. His fictitious self had been born to a Henry and a Harriet and raised in Rhode Island. “Apparently you’re the only child of two doctors.”
“Right.”
“Jude McConnell didn’t go to an Ivy League school?”
“Tufts is an excellent school.”
“Ever heard of my alma mater?” she asked. “Costa University online degree program?”
“Yes, because I studied your background extensively.”
“I wasn't quite as smart as Henry and Harriet.”
“You’re plenty smart enough to achieve anything you want, Gemma.”
“Oh?” She regarded him with surprised interest. “You view me as smart?”
“You took college courses while working full time. Then spent the next several years serving as the primary breadwinner for your family. You found a way to keep your mom and brothers living in their house. You invented a line of award-winning perfumes and you're now running your own successful business. Yes, I view you as smart.”
“I run my ownvery smallbusiness.”
