Excerpt - Delicious Torment
Miranda's Rights series, Book II
"Do you see that move?" Miranda Steele gritted her teeth as she watched a masculine hand slide up a shapely thigh a few tables away. The fetching flank belonged to a tall, flirty blonde in a low-cut calico sundress and flouncy silk hat.
"Unfortunately, yes," Wade Parker murmured beside her, pretending to study his Dom Pérignon. "Were you able to capture it?"
Miranda smirked. "Every disgusting slither." She adjusted the broad brim that shielded her eyes. "Thanks to this fancy equipment, courtesy of the Parker Agency."
Tucked under the crown of her own flouncy hat was a state-of-the-art mini-camcorder, so light she barely felt it. A very cool surveillance toy.
She and her sexy boss were at the ritzy Northwinds Steeplechase, acting as if they were just having drinks at an outdoor dining area. With its linen-covered tables, its view of the rolling green fields, its Vivaldi wafting from a CD, no one would imagine anything different.
Parker sipped from his glass and sat back, looking pleased. "Excellent."
Miranda grinned at the compliment and inhaled the smell of the outdoors and the horsey set.
For the past few hours, she'd had to make polite conversation with various members of Parker's social crowd, while they'd trailed their targets over the steeplechase grounds. At least she hadn't gotten as many cold stares as she used to from the hoity-toities. Probably because her last case had made front-page news.
She narrowed her eyes at their frisky subjects. These two belonged to the "horsing around" set.
The man, who was fairly drooling over himself, was Anthony Lloyd Witherspoon. Young, clean cut, and dressed in an expensive beige suit, he was an upwardly-mobile banker type from CK&G. The woman, tanned and carefree, was Farrah Simmons, a local well-to-do with connections to the steeplechase. Her outfit, like Miranda's, was in deference to the Ladies' Hat Contest, apparently a ritual at such events.
Miranda caught the insignia on the woman's tote bag. "Canterbury Stables is Simmons' horse farm, right?" She remembered that from the file.
Parker nodded imperceptibly. "She's part owner with her family."
Miranda angled her head. "Got the bag. Nice extra bit of identifying evidence."
"Outstanding."
Witherspoon reached up causally to caress Simmons' neck. The woman turned to him with an I'm-all-yours smile, and gave him a full-lipped kiss with a bit of tongue. Would have been a charming scene – if Witherspoon weren't married to somebody else.
Miranda growled under her breath. "That's right, buddy. Go for it. I've got you covered."
"Down, tigress." Parker's low laugh caressed her ear. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
She caught herself before she could smile, shrugged instead. "You know I don't like cheaters." Especially after the bastard she'd discovered on her last case, who'd been sleeping around on a friend. As well as beating her.
Parker nursed his glass while Miranda's drink remained untouched. "Yes, I know that. Are you sure you can focus?"
She shot her boss a wry look, taking in his features. Why did Wade Parker have to be so damn sexy?
Those sharp, Magnum-gray eyes that could both warm with passion and freeze with disdain. The salt-and-pepper sprinkled through his dark hair that he wore just over his ears. His finely tailored dark blue suit. That distinguished, middle-aged face that could turn the head of every available woman in Atlanta -- a fact she had witnessed more than a few times.
Since the death of his wife three years ago, Wade Russell Parker the Third had been the most eligible bachelor in town. Another reason rich young women didn't like seeing Miranda with him. To them, she belonged to the species goldus diggerous. If they only knew.