After Paul left, Angie tidied the kitchen. When the Chinese cleaner
arrived, who knew very little English, Angie chatted to her in her
language, then ran upstairs to change. Slipping a shirt over the top of
her white bikini, she grabbed a towel. The sun burned the top of her
head as she walked carefully across the grass, instinctively remembering
to tread lightly to avoid stepping on a bindi-eye, the sharp-needled
burrs one’s foot always seemed to find in Australian grass. A pair of
sun lounges with brightly colored sun umbrellas sat on sandstone paving
beside the swimming pool. Angie removed her shirt and arranged her towel
over a lounge. Too lazy to return to the house for a hat, she struggled
to open one of the yellow-and-white floral umbrellas. The catch was
tight and she broke a nail, pinching her skin in the process. She swore
and shook her hand.
“Such language. My ears are burning. May I be of help?”
Startled, Angie swiveled. A man in a grey suit had walked up behind her, the grass smothering his approach. Annoyed, she eyed him. He might have alerted her to his presence before this. She examined his detective badge with some relief. “That was not meant for your ears,” she said hotly. “If you creep up on a person, you deserve what you get.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Still slightly unnerved, she was caught by his blue eyes. Her gaze dropped to his riotously colored tie, which seemed inappropriate for a cop.
He reached across her and opened the umbrella with a flick of his long fingers.
“Uh, thanks.”
An inappropriate glimmer brightened his eyes. “Great view from here.”
Unsure if he referred to the panoramic vista, which took in a sweep of Pacific Ocean, or to her, she grabbed her towel and self-consciously looped it around her body. “As you’re obviously not the pool guy,” she said coolly, “I wonder why you’re here.”
He grinned, creating an attractive array of lines in the tanned skin around his eyes. “There was a bit of a language problem with your cleaner. I expected to find Mr. Schofield….” He studied her. “You can’t be Mrs. Schofield. I’m told she’s still in hospital.”
“I’m her sister, Angie Martin.”
He held out his hand. “Detective Inspector Alexander.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Martin. It is Ms.?”
She nodded, wondering if she had single tattooed on her forehead. As she shook his big warm hand, her towel slipped. She flushed and grabbed at it. Her bikini wasn’t that brief, but his roving glance made her feel naked.
Perhaps, sensing her modesty, DI Alexander politely turned away as she readjusted the towel. “When is Mrs. Schofield leaving hospital? I’d like to talk to her about the accident.”
“Not for a few days.”
“Then I’d best visit her there.”
She wished he wouldn’t. Dany seemed so fragile. “Can’t it wait until she comes home?”
“That water looks inviting.” He smiled. “Enjoy your swim.” She admired the breadth of his shoulders as he turned away, then gathered her wits. “Detective Inspector?”
His alert blue eyes met hers. “Yes, Ms. Martin?”
“Who was the poor man who died in the crash?”
“So far, no one has come forward reporting a missing person fitting his description. Has your sister remembered anything more?”
“No. What about the thug who drove her off the road?”
His dark brows rose. “You’re assuming it was a man, Ms. Martin?”
She shrugged. “Figure of speech. They might have been drunk, but that doesn’t excuse them any for not stopping. Who else would do such a thing?”
“Who indeed?” he said refusing to be drawn. He pulled aside his coat revealing a broad chest, slim waist and a gun in a holster. Digging into his pocket, he held out a business card. “In case you need to contact me. You’ll get me on my mobile, or ring the station.”
She watched him stride away over the grass, then glanced at the card in her hand. Nicklaus Alexander. Not a trace of an accent and he didn’t look like the Greeks she’d met. He was tall, his brown hair sun-streaked. Stripped of that suit, he’d blend in with the bronzed lifesavers patrolling the beach.
Alarmed at the direction her thoughts took, she ran to the poolside and dived in, coming up with a gasp of shock at the cold water.
An artist whose career is on the rise, Dany is evasive and she and her husband, Paul, seem to be drifting apart. The town has changed beyond recognition. Feeling out of place, Angie begins to fear her sister is mixed up in something dangerous. The car accident in which Dany was almost incinerated appears not to have been an accident. The detective sent to investigate, Nick Alexander, is suspicious. He and Angie spark off each other, while Angel, as her sister calls her, finds herself caught between her sister and the attractive cop she can’t seem to ignore.
Bestselling romance writer, Maggi Andersen teams with journalist Adam Frost in this story of murder and deception.
“Such language. My ears are burning. May I be of help?”
Startled, Angie swiveled. A man in a grey suit had walked up behind her, the grass smothering his approach. Annoyed, she eyed him. He might have alerted her to his presence before this. She examined his detective badge with some relief. “That was not meant for your ears,” she said hotly. “If you creep up on a person, you deserve what you get.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Still slightly unnerved, she was caught by his blue eyes. Her gaze dropped to his riotously colored tie, which seemed inappropriate for a cop.
He reached across her and opened the umbrella with a flick of his long fingers.
“Uh, thanks.”
An inappropriate glimmer brightened his eyes. “Great view from here.”
Unsure if he referred to the panoramic vista, which took in a sweep of Pacific Ocean, or to her, she grabbed her towel and self-consciously looped it around her body. “As you’re obviously not the pool guy,” she said coolly, “I wonder why you’re here.”
He grinned, creating an attractive array of lines in the tanned skin around his eyes. “There was a bit of a language problem with your cleaner. I expected to find Mr. Schofield….” He studied her. “You can’t be Mrs. Schofield. I’m told she’s still in hospital.”
“I’m her sister, Angie Martin.”
He held out his hand. “Detective Inspector Alexander.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Martin. It is Ms.?”
She nodded, wondering if she had single tattooed on her forehead. As she shook his big warm hand, her towel slipped. She flushed and grabbed at it. Her bikini wasn’t that brief, but his roving glance made her feel naked.
Perhaps, sensing her modesty, DI Alexander politely turned away as she readjusted the towel. “When is Mrs. Schofield leaving hospital? I’d like to talk to her about the accident.”
“Not for a few days.”
“Then I’d best visit her there.”
She wished he wouldn’t. Dany seemed so fragile. “Can’t it wait until she comes home?”
“That water looks inviting.” He smiled. “Enjoy your swim.” She admired the breadth of his shoulders as he turned away, then gathered her wits. “Detective Inspector?”
His alert blue eyes met hers. “Yes, Ms. Martin?”
“Who was the poor man who died in the crash?”
“So far, no one has come forward reporting a missing person fitting his description. Has your sister remembered anything more?”
“No. What about the thug who drove her off the road?”
His dark brows rose. “You’re assuming it was a man, Ms. Martin?”
She shrugged. “Figure of speech. They might have been drunk, but that doesn’t excuse them any for not stopping. Who else would do such a thing?”
“Who indeed?” he said refusing to be drawn. He pulled aside his coat revealing a broad chest, slim waist and a gun in a holster. Digging into his pocket, he held out a business card. “In case you need to contact me. You’ll get me on my mobile, or ring the station.”
She watched him stride away over the grass, then glanced at the card in her hand. Nicklaus Alexander. Not a trace of an accent and he didn’t look like the Greeks she’d met. He was tall, his brown hair sun-streaked. Stripped of that suit, he’d blend in with the bronzed lifesavers patrolling the beach.
Alarmed at the direction her thoughts took, she ran to the poolside and dived in, coming up with a gasp of shock at the cold water.
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After ten years living in Hong Kong and working for a magazine, food writer and photographer, Angeline Martin is brought back to Australia. Her twin sister Dany has been hurt in a car accident. A man has been killed. The problems which split the sisters apart all those years ago are still in evidence.An artist whose career is on the rise, Dany is evasive and she and her husband, Paul, seem to be drifting apart. The town has changed beyond recognition. Feeling out of place, Angie begins to fear her sister is mixed up in something dangerous. The car accident in which Dany was almost incinerated appears not to have been an accident. The detective sent to investigate, Nick Alexander, is suspicious. He and Angie spark off each other, while Angel, as her sister calls her, finds herself caught between her sister and the attractive cop she can’t seem to ignore.
Bestselling romance writer, Maggi Andersen teams with journalist Adam Frost in this story of murder and deception.
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