Part 159 (1/2)

Europe filming.”

”Mmmm.” She considered the idea a moment, then smiled. It made it all

the more interesting somehow. Here she was on the verge of seducing one

of little Emma McAvoy's friends-and playing Emma's

mama in what was sure to be the hottest movie of the year. And it would

be all the more interesting to think of herself as Jane while they made

love. ”Small world.” She set her gla.s.s aside to lean forward and toy

with the b.u.t.tons of his s.h.i.+rt. ”Do you see much of Emma?”

”No. Well, actually I saw her last month when she was in town.”

”Isn't that sweet.” The first b.u.t.ton popped open. ”Are you two ...

involved?”

”No. That is ... No. Miss Parks.”

”Angie.” She blew a light stream of smoke in his face, then crushed out

her cigarette. ”And what is your name, darling?”

”Michael. Michael Kesselring. I don't-”

Her movements stopped. ”Kessetring? Any relation to the investigating

officer on the McAvoy murder?”

”He's my father. Miss-”

She laughed then, long and loud and delighted. ”Better and better.

Let's call it fate, Michael.” Her hand slid up his thigh. ”Relax.”

He wasn't stupid. And he wasn't dead. When she closed her hands over

him, the pleasure speared through him like a heated blade. And so did

the guilt. It was ridiculous, he told himself. She was gorgeous,

dangerous-every man's darkest fantasy. He'd had his share of women,

starting with Caroline Fitzgerald on the night before his seventeenth

birthday. They'd lost their virginity together, sweatily and clumsily.