Kincaid gripped either side of his desk and bore down with such strength he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the wood crack in half. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Thorncroft. I’ve a vivid enough imagination.”
Her freckles bunched as her nose wrinkled. “What are you imagining?”
Was the womantryingto kill him?
“Miss Thorncroft.” Taking a deep breath, he chose his words with the utmost care. “Please do not misunderstand. I wouldverymuch enjoy engaging in an—an intimate relationship. However, given the—”
“What are you talking about?” she interrupted.
His brows drew together. “What areyoutalking about?”
“Secretarial work.” She looked oddly at him. “Obviously.”
“Secretarial work,” he repeated in a strangled voice.
“Yes.” Joanna scratched James under his whiskery chin, then took a pointed glance around the room. “It is clear you would benefit from some organization. Your office is, if I may be so blunt, an absolute disaster. As it happens, my organizational skills are second to none. In addition, given my lackluster welcome, I believe you would benefit greatly from a secretary.”
“Do you?” Kincaid didn’t know whether he felt relieved…or disappointed.
“Indeed. Someone to greet your potential clients as they come in. Take their coats, serve them tea, make sure they are comfortable.” She leaned forward, further exposing her breasts to his carnal stare, and Kincaid liked to believe it was a mark of his good character that he didn’t whimper. “Surely we can work something out. My services in exchange for yours.”
Once again dragging his gaze from Joanna’s curvaceous frame, he grimaced fiercely at a painting hanging crookedly on the wall. It had been a gift from a wealthy dowager countess after he’d discovered who had been siphoning money off of her estate. A greedy nephew, as it happened, with no regard for his elderly aunt’s welfare. The countess had been so pleased with Kincaid’s detective work, she’d doubled his fee and given him an oversized canvas depicting her three beloved cocker spaniels as a reward. He’d tried hanging the painting in his bedroom, but James and Jane wouldn’t hear of it, and thus the artwork had been relegated to the office.
The frame was in need of a good dusting, he noted. As did everything else.
Joanna was right. The roomwasa disaster. But then, he was an investigator, not a bloody maid, and he had neither the time nor the inclination to keep things neat and tidy. That being said, he was the first to admit his office could surely benefit from a bit more…orderliness. And a secretary to take notes, keep his files straight, and greet clients with the warmth and tactfulness he admittedly lacked, certainly wouldn’t hurt anything either. In fact, it might even get him some of the meeker clients his gruff demeanor tended to frighten away.
Yes, now that he thought about, he didn’t know why he hadn’t hired someone sooner.
But he’d be damned if that someone was going to be Miss Joanna Thorncroft.
“No,” he said flatly as he picked up a pile of papers and shuffled them into place.
“No?” Joanna said in the incredulous tone of someone unacquainted with the word. “I don’t understand.”
“Have you ever been a secretary before?”
“Not exactly, but—”
“Have you ever worked for a detective?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Are you acquainted with British law?”
“How does that—”
“I am sorry, but you do not have the proper qualifications.” He met her gaze, registered the angry indignation swirling in the depths of those vivid blue eyes, and glanced promptly away. “As you can see, I am a very busy man. If you would, please put down my cat and see yourself out.”
She stomped her foot. “I will not!”
“All right, you can keep the cat,” he said graciously.
“I don’t want the cat. No offense intended,” she said when James lifted his head and gave a grumpymeow. “What I want—and need—is a private investigator. You’ve come highly recommended, Kincaid. I should think you would view that as a compliment. And while I realize exchanging my services for yours is a tad…unconventional, shall we say, I truly believe such a bargain will be immensely beneficial to us both.” She smiled hopefully. “Why don’t we shake on it and see how things go? Surely you can commit to a trial period of a week. A fitting compromise, don’t you agree?”
Kincaid didn’t like what that smile did to him.
Or maybe he liked ittoomuch.
