With This Fling. Jeanie London

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because you want something doesn’t mean it will become reality.” She arched upward, desperate to get away.

      He wouldn’t let her go.

      Short of throwing him off balance and causing a scene, she had no recourse but to wait until he decided to pull her out of the dip, which didn’t look like it would happen anytime soon. “Forget the damn kiss, Gerard. End of discussion.”

      “Let me sweep you off your feet. You’ll like it.”

      Unfortunately, she might, and Harley couldn’t live with herself if she did. “Who do you think you are, Prince Charming?”

      “You won’t be able to resist me.”

      She could only marvel at the man’s arrogance, and his luck. He was beyond lucky that she wasn’t armed. She honestly didn’t know if she could have controlled herself.

      “I will resist, trust me. You aren’t Prince Charming and I’m not Cinderella. If I were, you’d turn back into a mouse and this ball would be over.”

      “Hello, Ms. Price, Mackenzie,” a deep male voice said. “Enjoying yourselves?”

      They both glanced around to find Gerard’s grandfather and his bright-eyed dance partner, Quinevere McDarby.

      Gerard had the grace to pull her out of the dip and she sucked in an audible breath that made Miss Q, as she liked to be called, smile.

      “Of course they’re enjoying themselves, Stuart,” she said. “If you could just see yourselves, my dears, you look as if you were made to be together.”

      As Lennon’s great-aunt and Josh’s great-aunt-in-law, Miss Q had diplomatic immunity from Harley’s opinion. But Gerard, unfortunately, never knew when to keep his mouth shut.

      “That’s exactly what I’ve been telling Harley,” he said. “She’s a tough sell.”

      “What’s to sell?” Miss Q raked those big baby blues over Gerard approvingly. “Look at him, Harley…he’s perfect.”

      For what? To use as a practice target?

      She kept her mouth shut. Not only were she and Miss Q clearly of two minds regarding the definition of perfect, but like her great-niece Lennon, Miss Q was one of those impossible-not-to-like types. Hands down, she was the most outrageous woman Harley had ever met, which said a lot since she’d met some real characters in her twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight years.

      The way the talk on the street went, Miss Q had been responsible for matchmaking not only Lennon and Josh into their current marital state, but also the new Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair. Harley didn’t know the details. She didn’t want to know. But when she looked at Gerard and remembered that he was another of the Garden District gang…

      She smiled at the elderly couple, a real smile. Lady Luck must have glanced down after all, because if Miss Q took an interest in Gerard’s love life, she just might find a woman to distract him from wanting a fling with her. With Harley’s lack of pedigree, she certainly wouldn’t be on the short list of contenders for the job.

      “Miss Q, would you mind if I cut in?” Harley asked, more than willing to suffer another dance to escape Gerard and give this little matchmaker a chance to pick his brain about his preferences. “I was hoping to talk with Mr. Gerard about his work as the district attorney.”

      “Of course not, my dear. I never turn down a dance with a handsome man.”

      “The verdict is still out on whether or not you’re armed,” Gerard said with a frown. “Should I be worried about my grandfather’s safety?”

      “Nothing to worry about, Mackenzie.” Stuart motioned him off. “Your Ms. Price is charming.”

      Gerard had no choice but to let her go, but being the man he was, he couldn’t resist a parting shot. His voice was low and silky when he whispered in her ear, “I’ll get you in bed, Harley. Trust me.”

      She bit her tongue and made her escape. Stepping into Stuart’s arms, she let him steer her into a dance, his grandson’s threat still echoing in her head.

      “So you wanted to talk about my work, young lady?”

      Between the question in his voice and the dubiously arched brow, Harley got the impression he didn’t believe her. She decided to be up-front. “To be honest, sir, I wanted to get away from your grandson. I see him all week at work. I need a break on the weekends.”

      “My good fortune then. After meeting you, I’d hoped we’d get the opportunity to chat.”

      “Really, sir? Why?”

      “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

      “I do hope you’ve heard more than your grandson’s opinion. If not, I’m sunk.”

      Stuart might have been old, really old if she was to guess, but his strong features had weathered the time well. When he smiled, she recognized his grandson in his expression and suspected that one day Gerard would look a lot like this man.

      “I have,” he said. “In fact, that’s why I wanted to talk. I like to form my own opinions and the only thing my grandson has said is that you’re a very good investigator. He told me he’s been learning a great deal.”

      “Really?”

      “Really.” He sounded decided, and Harley liked that he was playing as straight with her as she was with him. “But I suspect that you’re not sure whether to believe me, Ms. Price.”

      “Call me Harley, please.”

      He inclined his head. “If you’ll call me Stuart.”

      “Okay, Stuart. What makes you think I’m not sure?”

      “I spent my entire adult life prosecuting criminals. That constitutes a lot of years. I pride myself on having become rather an expert at reading people.”

      “That’s a handy skill in my line of work, too. And I don’t question you at all,” she assured him. “I’m reassessing the situation. If that’s all your grandson has said and you still need to formulate an opinion, maybe it’s everyone else’s opinions I should be worried about.”

      “Not at all, young lady. Although I must tell you I’m fascinated by the stories. I’ve always found my grandson easy to get along with and, to my knowledge, he hasn’t had problems on the job in the past.”

      “Oh, I’m sure he hasn’t. He’s the poster child of patience and ability. I’m the rogue element here.”

      “Touché.” Stuart laughed. “I’m biased where Mackenzie is concerned. He’s my late wife’s namesake—Julia Mackenzie Gerard. As I’m so fond of him, I do hope you’ll forgive me. But in order to correct my mistake, I’ll need your take on the stories.”

      “They’re nothing more than urban legends,” she said dryly. “Your grandson and I get along fine. Not to worry.”

      Stuart shot a glance toward the grandson

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