Hands On. Debbi Rawlins

flowers one way or the other, but it was a pretty awesome sight.

      He glanced at Cassie. “Are you nervous?”

      She shook her head, but her wide-eyed gaze and the way she wrung her hands concerned him. “This is the best-case scenario for a sting. Bask came to us.”

      “I know. Anyway, this is going to be a piece of cake. I don’t even have to pretend I like you.”

      He snorted and rolled his eyes.

      She seemed too distracted to notice. “Can you believe the size of those lavender roses? And the hedges of heather, my goodness.” She finally looked at him.

      “Another thing you should know about me, I love to garden. I’m already itching to stick my fingers in the dirt and swipe some clippings.”

      Now, this was a surprise. He hadn’t figured her for the hands-in-the-dirt type.

      “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not going to really swipe clippings.”

      “I don’t even know what a clipping is.” He steered the car into the circular drive. The garages were probably around the back but this seemed like the logical thing to do so they could unload their luggage. Besides, having to move the car later would give him the opportunity to nose around.

      Shrill laughter came from somewhere on the side of the house. They both twisted around for a look. A tall redhead opened the white trellis gate and ran through the garden in a tiny bikini bottom, no top, her enormous breasts bouncing with her laughter. Behind her a bare-chested man gave chase.

      “Oh, boy,” Cassie swung around to look straight ahead. “Okay, now I’m nervous.”

      4

      “IS THERE SOMETHING you forgot to tell me?” Cassie glared at Dalton. “I’m not getting out of this car until you explain to me what just happened. And then, frankly, I probably still won’t get out.”

      He watched the couple disappear on the other side of the house. “I have no idea.” He looked at Cassie, his expression one of such surprise that she believed him. “I swear to God I don’t.”

      She hunched down in the seat. “This looks more like a swing club.”

      “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

      “What’s there to jump to? She was naked. Outside for anyone to see.”

      “She was topless, not naked.”

      “Oh, excuse me. That makes a difference. I’m not getting out of this car.”

      “Cassie, come on, you can’t quit now.”

      “This has nothing to do with quitting.” She folded her arms across her chest. The woman probably had implants. Nobody was that big for real. Were they?

      “Guess you just don’t have what it takes to be an investigator. My mistake.”

      Her heart plummeted, and then she realized what he was doing. “Nice try, Styles. Psychology 101 has nothing on you.”

      A knock on the car window drew both their attention.

      A young blond woman, about Cassie’s age, motioned for Dalton to put his window down.

      The woman then stood back, waiting for him to comply. She wore short shorts and a tucked-in pink T-shirt that showed off another pair of large breasts. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Styles?”

      Cassie glanced down at her own B-cups while Dalton replied.

      They were perfectly nice breasts. Just not very large.

      “My name is Mary Jane.” Smiling, with a flawless set of white, straight teeth, she opened his door. “I’m Mr. Blankenship’s assistant. Welcome to Back to Basics.”

      “So we are at the right place,” Dalton said as he got out, and Cassie stayed put.

      Mary Jane glanced over her shoulder toward where the couple had disappeared, and then made a face when she looked back at Dalton. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll have a word with Simone. She’s European and insists on sunbathing and swimming topless, which is fine, but she shouldn’t have left the pool area like that.”

      Dalton ducked his head to meet Cassie’s eyes. He gave her a meaningful look. “Honey, are you getting out?”

      Swimming and sun bathing topless was fine? Right.

      She started when her door opened. Mary Jane had come around the car and opened it.

      “We have a very special room set up for you and Mr. Styles. I’ll take you both inside and then I’ll get your luggage.”

      “Call me Cassie.”

      “Of course, whatever you prefer.” Mary Jane had never stopped smiling, reminding her of a Stepford wife. She stepped back to give Cassie room.

      Cassie got out of the car and gave Dalton a look that said, This better not be weird.

      “If you follow me I’ll give you a tour of the house, point out the common areas where we socialize. Some of the rooms are used for private business, of course. But I’m sure that’s of no interest to you.”

      Cassie and Dalton exchanged looks. Wrong. The private quarters were of far more interest. Excitement began to simmer inside Cassie. This was a real case. Big enough that it had attracted the attention of the government. And she’d landed right smack-dab in the middle of the action.

      Dalton was right. Why jump to conclusions about this place? Why let a topless woman derail her?

      Mary Jane came up alongside Cassie and hooked an arm through hers, and then hooked her other arm around Dalton’s. She flashed a grin at both of them. “Are we ready?”

      “Lead on,” Dalton said, and winked at Cassie.

      It was a very intimate wink, a kind of shared joke, giving Cassie a funny feeling.

      “You’re gonna love it here. I promise. We have hot tubs and saunas and an Olympic-size pool.” Mary Jane chattered all the way up the stairs and into the beautiful hardwood foyer. “All your meals will be healthy and nutritious and prepared on the premises.”

      Dalton grunted and disengaged himself from Mary Jane. “We better not be talking sprouts and wheat germ.”

      Mary Jane laughed and lightly jabbed him with her elbow. “You’re so funny.” And then she pranced on ahead of them.

      Dalton frowned at Cassie. “Was that a yes or a no?”

      She shrugged.

      “I eat meat. I like meat.”

      “Healthy doesn’t mean fanatic.” She smiled and followed Mary Jane, but tossed over her shoulder, “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

      He muttered something she couldn’t hear. Didn’t want to hear. Instead, she listened to Mary Jane point out the parlor where everyone gathered before dinner.

      “Cocktails are usually served around six.” She glanced at her Mickey Mouse watch. “Which is in about fifteen minutes. Perfect. You can meet everyone then.”

      “You mean real cocktails?” Dalton asked with narrowed-eyed suspicion. “Not like carrot juice or anything like that?”

      Mary Jane giggled and glanced at Cassie. “He’s so funny.”

      Cassie couldn’t help laughing herself. She didn’t dare look at the expression on Dalton’s face, or she’d really lose it. Her nerves were taut, her emotions running high and she knew herself. She was likely to break out into hysterics.

      “Over here is the dining room where you’ll have your meals, or sometimes we eat on the patio. We’ll even send you room service if there’s, you know, something special going on you’d rather not interrupt.”

      “Great.”