Minding Amy

"If you really like her, can't you talk it through with that in mind?"

"Perhaps, but it's going to be difficult."

"Start with the work stuff, get your working relationship back on an even keel. That will anchor you. When that's sorted you can get to the personal stuff, tell her how you feel and where you want the relationship to go, see what she says."

"You're so level headed."

She chuckled. "So are you. It's a family trait, remember?"

She was right, but Sebastian didn't feel level headed.

"You just concentrate on sorting things out with this woman who has you in a state." Her tone grew serious. "She's not your usual high maintenance sort, is she?"

Sebastian had always been attracted to the sort of women who loved attention, and lots of it. His ex had even competed with his job for his undivided, which made life difficult. With Amy it was different.

He gave a sad laugh. "Amy is high maintenance all right, but in a good way, you know. She's a positive character, lots of energy and great fun to be around."

"She must be pretty special for you to have asked me for advice about it. You never even spoke to me about your ex until after she'd gone."

"Yes," he mumbled. "I think you've got me there, Sis. Amy is a pretty special lady."

Very special indeed, he thought to himself later, while he was staring up at the ceiling, his head resting back on his hands. Too special to mess up the time they had left together, because of a crazy misunderstanding. She was too proud, denying her need for help, even when she was running into his arms looking for comfort in a haunted house. He managed a smile. Isn't that what he loved about her, though? The same woman who could tutor a bunch of streetwise kids with no problems whatsoever could also be tender and vulnerable in his arms at the mere mention of ghosts. He sighed. She was a siren and she was an enigma—and she had him well and truly fascinated.

He thought about what Alex had said about getting their working relationship straightened out and take it from there. The job did mean a lot to her. She'd kept stating that back at the beginning. He wanted her back in his arms for the duration of the case, and that meant he had to focus on helping her with the job. It would be hard, he realized, thinking back to how his thoughts kept wandering, even when they were in the middle of a row and with her father in the room. But, yes, if he remained focused he could do that.

When Lydia jumped up on to his chest and meowed at him, he noticed the clock and realized how much time had slipped by, thinking about Amy.

"Well, Lydia, do you think we can win her trust back?" He ruffled the cat behind her ears. Lydia purred and settled down on his chest, paws outstretched under his chin. "Hmm, I'll take that as a maybe, shall I?"

The cat looked back at him, eyes half closed, smiling her cat smile. Sebastian sighed. "I hope you're right."

Forget the sex for now, he told himself, and try to get the job back on an even keel first.

Chapter Thirteen

Amy watched and waved as the Land Rover pulled up alongside the curb. She stood on the pavement, wearing a hopeful smile, tight white hipsters slung low on her midriff, her highest strappiest sandals, and a cut-off skinny–fit lycra top in hot pink.

Sebastian got out of the vehicle to put her bags in the back, but didn't grab her for a quick kiss or give her a teasing pat on the rump, like he had done when they previously met up. He glanced at her outfit with a pensive frown and greeted her in a formal tone. He looked altogether

confused and awkward.

That didn't bode well. Her heart sank.

"Ready to crack this case?" he asked, gruffly, as they pulled away into the traffic.

"Yes, I'm ready for everything."

He didn't respond. Was he still upset with her after the dramatics of the day before? She complimented him on the Land Rover, before an uneasy silence descended between them. It was hard to mend things while hurtling through traffic. She resolved instead to bridge the gap when they arrived at their destination. A bottle of wine, a lovely intimate dinner for two, she would soon have him back in her arms. And in her bed.

He flicked the radio on and Amy stared out of the passenger window, trying to ignore his presence for the time being. That was a difficult task in itself. She took a sly glance over at him from under her lashes. He looked so sexy—in fact he looked a bit like a mercenary in a black T-shirt and jeans. The short, capped sleeves of the T-shirt showed off his biceps flexing as he drove. She gave a quiet sigh. Her body remained acutely aware of his proximity. Damn him. Here she was lusting after him and all he could do is act like he was her official escort. Which is all he is, her inner voice reminded her. Her minder. She bit her lip.

Doubts began to race in on her. Why was he distant, why wasn't he trying to flirt with her again? She'd blown it, that's why. She thought back over what had happened the previous day and all it did was make her miserable.

By the time they had hit the M1 motorway to the north, she'd decided for the sake of her sanity to try to focus on her job instead. She needed results for the feature and she needed to get them soon and under her own steam. However, when the job was done, she would have to seriously reconsider her aptitude for investigative work. She had to face the fact her natural skills lent themselves more naturally to other areas of journalism. Living up to her father and his reputation probably wasn't the right thing for her. It was a different kettle of fish altogether and her dad knew that when he'd hired Sebastian to watch out for her. Despite the fact he wouldn't admit to it, he'd done the wrong thing trying to help her along. Sebastian, apparently, hadn't known what Richard was up to, though. He said he'd taken the job at face value. Her father had deserved the tongue lashing, but in retrospect she wished she hadn't given Sebastian such a hard time. Now she had the damage to undo. And she couldn't seem to keep her mind off him, no matter what.

It was no wonder he was giving her the cautious treatment, today, she realized. She'd reacted like a drama queen. She might be a hothead but she'd never had that extreme a reaction before. Was it because she felt a fool in front of Sebastian, because he was a true investigator and she was just playing at it?

It shouldn't have mattered about Sebastian's job, or his intentions regarding the case, she told herself. That should have been irrelevant. It was her case and he was just another work colleague. Would she have been upset if it had been Janine who had kept something from her, for example? Why did it matter so much? Amy chose to push the question away, unanswered. It kept nudging its way back into her thoughts though, and she gradually began to realize it was what he thought of her that really mattered. She didn't want him to think of her as a hopeless, idiotic woman. Right from the outset she'd made a complete twit of herself with him. From the mistaken identity fiasco at the pub to her freaked-out behavior in the phony occult house. Now there was her drama-queen reaction toward him the previous day to add to the list. What a disaster. She cared about his impression of her. Why?