Can't Buy Me Love (Sinclair Sisters 3)

“All over the place.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You were in the police, right? What were you? A traffic cop? Community liaison? Worked with dogs?”

It was too much. Laughter exploded out of him. When he caught Agnes’ eye, it was clear she wasn’t joking and was waiting for an answer. And she wasn’t doing it patiently—her hand had inched closer to the paperweight.

“I was with the Strathclyde Police,” he told her, before she started lobbing things at his head. “I made detective, specializing in organized crime, until circumstances brought me back home to Invertary.”

“Really?” The incredulity on her face almost made him laugh again.

“Really.”

“Have you been out of the job long?”

“You mean, so long I’m rusty and have forgotten what I’m doing?”

She gave him a look that said she thought that was another stupid question. “Well…yeah.”

She was just too much. “Look.” He held out his hands in supplication. “We both know you’re perfectly capable of finding out who’s stealing from the hotel. Unfortunately, we both answer to our bosses. And your boss asked my boss to look into things. So how about we work together, get to the bottom of this, and get it done?”

For a minute, he didn’t think she’d take him up on the offer, but then her shoulders slumped. “I hate that you sound reasonable. Fine. But I’m in charge.”

This was the most fun he’d had with a woman in years. “I’m the one with the investigative experience,” he pointed out.

“And I’m the one with the hotel experience.”

“How about we share the lead role?”

“How about you just follow my lead? I’m in charge of this hotel.” She lowered her voice and muttered, “When Dougal lets me.”

“Okay, how about this? Think of me as your consultant. An expert you’ve called in to assist. Can you live with that?”

“That depends. Are you an expert who follows orders?”

“Is there any other kind?” He stood and motioned to the door. “Why don’t we start with

you showing me the scene of the crime?”

“Well, seeing as the last thing that went missing was the toilet paper from the downstairs loo…” Her eyes sparkled, letting him know she was messing with him.

“If that’s where you want to start,” he said, “then who am I to argue?”

“Right answer, Clouseau.” She stood, rounded the desk, and strode toward the door. “You coming?” she called back over her shoulder.

With a grin, Logan followed Agnes out of her office—watching her voluptuous backside sway in her staid gray suit trousers.

Chapter 2

Agnes would be the first to admit that, when it came to men, she was somewhat shallow. She wasn’t proud of it, but she put it down to not having a whole lot of time to invest in dating. Which meant there was no need to get to know guys on any deep level. And when you didn’t have time to get to know someone, you chose brawn over brains. Yeah, it didn’t sound any better when she tried to justify it to herself. Nevertheless, Logan McBride, as unwanted as his help might be, was definitely eye candy. It made dealing with him a little less painful.

“I gather we aren’t starting with the toilet paper theft,” he said as she led him upstairs to the first floor.

“I’ll save that treat for later.” Agnes pointed to an inconspicuous door at the end of the corridor. “That’s the main storage closet for the hotel. We’ve lost some bedding and sundries from in there.”

“Who’s got keys?” Logan crouched down to take a look at the lock, the action pulling his jeans tight over solid thighs, making the material cup his rear like gentle hands. She began to drool at the sight, losing track of the question.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Are you checking out my backside?”

If he was hoping to embarrass her, he’d be sorely disappointed. Donna was the only Sinclair sister who did embarrassment—much to her sisters’ disgust. “Seems only fair. You were checking out mine while we climbed the stairs.”

“True.” He flashed a cocky smile at her over his shoulder, proving he didn’t embarrass easily either. “Ogle away but talk while you’re doing it. Who’s got access to the closet?”