White Lies Read Online Free PDF Page B

warned.
    “Can’t help myself.” He crouched down on the coping. “I did warn you not to confront her.”
    She made a face. “I thought consultants were supposed to do something helpful and productive in a moment of crisis.”
    “Right. Almost forgot.”
    He rose, walked to the nearby cabana and opened the door. Inside he found a stack of oversized towels on a shelf. He picked up one and carried it back to the pool.
    “How’s this for helpful?” he asked, unfolding the towel.
    “Much better.”
    She took a deep breath and dove back under the water to retrieve her shoes. When she surfaced again she trudged toward the wide steps where he waited.
    “There’s a robe inside the cabana,” he said, draping the towel around her shoulders.
    “Thanks.”
    Clutching the towel, she made her way toward the small cabana. The black suit clung to her body, outlining her lush, rounded hips.
    She stripped off her jacket just before she reached the door. The thin, pale silk shell she wore underneath had been rendered transparent by the water. Jake could see the straps of a dainty bra.
    She disappeared inside the cabana. He considered his options. There was no question now but that Clare Lancaster was a spanner that had just been thrown into the works of his carefully crafted scheme. He had to decide how to deal with her, but first he needed more information.
    The cabana door opened. Clare walked out muffled from head to toe in a thick white terrycloth robe. Her hair was wrapped in a towel. She carried her sopping-wet clothes in one hand and her soaked shoes in the other.
    “I think the party’s over for me,” she said. She paused at the table to pick up her shoulder bag.
    “Looks that way,” he agreed. “I’ll take you home.”
    “Hotel,” she corrected automatically. “I don’t live around here, remember?”
    A small shock of awareness slammed through him. Talk about a slip of the tongue. He had spoken without thinking, meaninghis home, or rather the house he rented. What the hell was that about? Probably something to do with seeing her in a robe and knowing that she was naked underneath the pristine white terrycloth.
    “I’ll take you back to your hotel,” he said.
    “Thanks, anyway, but I’ve got a car.”
    “It’s not a problem. It will give me an excuse to leave early. Cocktail party chatter bores me.”
    “Why come, in that case?”
    He shrugged. “Archer invited me. He’s the client.”
    She gave him an odd look. She knew he was lying to her, he thought. But he sensed that she wasn’t going to call him on it.
    She was trying to figure him out, he realized. Fair enough. He was doing the same thing to her. He smiled slightly.
    “What is so amusing?” she demanded crossly.
    “We’re like a couple of fencers,” he said. “Testing each other’s defenses. Looking for openings. Makes for an interesting game, don’t you think?”
    She went very still. “I didn’t come here to play games.”
    “I know. But sometimes the game finds you.”
    “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Jake Salter, but whatever it is—”
    He took her arm. “Let’s get you back to your hotel.”
    “I told you, I’m fine. I can drive myself.”
    “Be reasonable.” He steered her toward the veranda. “You’re soaked to the skin. You’ve had a long day. You’ve been through some family drama and a major scene with a woman who seems to hate your guts. On top of everything else, you probably don’t know your way around Phoenix very well. Let me take you back to your hotel.”
    “No, thank you.” Polite but determined.
    “You’re as stubborn as Archer.”
    They reached the veranda. Clare halted abruptly and looked at the open doors.
    “I’m not going to go back inside,” she said, glancing down at her robe. “Not like this.”
    “No,” he agreed. He tightened his grip on her arm and drew her along the veranda. “We’ll go this way.”
    He walked her around the side of the house. When they reached the crowded driveway Jake saw the parking attendant. The young man was hovering over Clare’s