Waiting For Mr. Wonderful!. Stephanie Howard

smiling as he added, ‘I promise that’s the only kind of beautiful partnership I had in mind.’

      Sure it was. She’d have to be seriously stupid to believe that, though she could tell he didn’t actually expect her to, anyway. That look in his eyes was pure sexual challenge and, to her dismay, it had provoked a warm flare inside her.

      It was hopeless. He just had to look at her and it was like flicking on a switch.

      All the more reason to keep her expression carefully blank. The only way to deal with a man like Jean-Claude Lasalle was to convince him you were totally immune to his charms.

      ‘I’m not sure I’m interested in any kind of partnership,’ she told him. ‘But at least I begin to get the picture. You told me you wanted to help me, but the person you really want to help is yourself. You think you can get to Duval through me.’

      ‘Sure.’ He looked amused. ‘You wouldn’t expect me to help you for nothing? What is it you English say? There’s no such thing as a free lunch?’

      Quite. But this admission actually made his position more credible. There now appeared to be a legitimate motive behind his offer to help her.

      She relaxed just a little. ‘OK. I accept that. You somehow gain by my cooperation. But what about me? Do I gain as well? You’ve said you plan to help me, but why should I believe you? I don’t even know if I actually need your help.’

      ‘You think you can fight Duval alone?’

      ‘I’ve managed to up till now.’ As he was about to butt in, she hurried on and pointed out, ‘And I’ve only got your word for it that he’s about to come after me again. Maybe you’re just saying that to scare me into going along with you. According to my solicitor, Duval’s probably backed off.’

      ‘Then your solicitor’s a fool.’ Lasalle’s tone was dismissive. ‘It simply isn’t in Duval’s nature to back off.’

      That had occurred to Georgia too, though she’d refused point-blank to dwell on it. She’d told herself it was just her paranoia talking.

      And maybe it was. ‘How can you be so sure? There’s been no sign of him for a couple of weeks now. You’re only guessing he hasn’t backed off—unless you know something you’re not telling?’

      ‘I’m telling you what I know. I know Duval.’ His eyes were narrowed to dark blue pinpoints as he looked at her. ‘And after the lease business and the rent rise and the mysterious fire in your storeroom you must have a pretty shrewd idea of the nature of the man yourself.’

      Hearing him recite that list of horrors, Georgia felt her stomach twist. She looked at him, fear growing inside her. ‘How do you know so much about my business?’ Maybe he was one of Duval’s henchmen, after all?

      Lasalle sighed impatiently. ‘I have an interest in Duval. I make it my business to know what he’s up to.’ He paused, his expression grim. ‘And he’s not finished with you yet. Maybe there hasn’t been any sign of him for a couple of weeks but, take my word for it, that’s not because he’s backed off. He’s just lying low, plotting his next move.’

      ‘And what’s his next move going to be, since you seem to know so much?’

      ‘I don’t know what it’s going to be. I just know there will be a next move. And I’d advise you to prepare yourself for something seriously nasty. As I already told you, he’s starting to get impatient.’

      Georgia was suddenly aware that she was nervously chewing her lower lip. Something seriously nasty? Surely not another fire? She’d had nightmares about that. Another fire could ruin her. Last time had been bad enough, but it would be far more serious now, with her precious consignment of new summer clothes about to arrive any day from France. If that went up in flames, how on earth would she survive?