“Derek, can I ask a favour?” she said while her instincts screamed that this was a very bad idea.

  “Sure, darling, as long as you don’t mind me asking what’s in it for me?”

  His tone implied things that made Davina shudder. She ploughed on, reminding herself that it didn’t matter what she felt about Derek, the most important thing was finishing the movie. She forced a smile.

  “What’s in it for you? Fame. Fortune. The joy of reaching out to help another human being.”

  Derek Gibbs ran a finger down the length of her arm. She took a step backwards and smiled to cover her distaste.

  “I’d rather reach out and touch another human being.”

  You’d have had to be incredibly stupid not to have gotten his meaning. And although there might have been evidence to the contrary, Davina wasn’t that stupid. Derek sneered briefly before stepping closer to her. Davina shuffled back. It was the tango of disgust.

  “So about that help. I’m in the middle of a project and I need a cameraman. Someone who knows what they’re doing. Can you spare some free time? If you don’t want to, I completely understand and I’ll ask someone else.”

  Who, she had no idea.

  “Now, I didn’t say that I wouldn’t do you a favour, just that there may be terms involved.”

  Davina resisted the urge to tell him to go boil his head. She actually needed the scumbag.

  “Well,” she said with forced patience, “can you help me?”

  “For you,” he leered, “I’d do just about anything.”

  “Good.”

  She stepped around him as she plastered a friendly smile on her face.

  “I’ll see you at my house after work tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” he drawled with icky meaning, “you will.”

  As Davina tottered away on mile-high heels, she wondered if she had done the right thing. Just talking to the guy made her want to bulk-buy hand sanitiser and spread it all over. Unfortunately there was no way she could get the movie finished in thirteen days without him.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. Derek winked and she threw herself into the safety of the ladies room.

  Jack soon discovered that it was easier to follow someone when you had police credentials. No one at the TV station would let him in. They let a woman with an alpaca sail through the door, but he had to sit on the bench outside and wait patiently. It grated.

  He spent his time staring down the hill, past the shopping centre to the clear blue sea behind it, wondering what he was doing with his life. It wasn’t a pleasant morning.

  At midday the glass doors swung open and Davina tottered out. She looked like she’d stepped out of 1950’s Hollywood. Jack was so mesmerised by the black pencil skirt that was tight to mid-calf and the spiked black patent heels that he almost forgot he was on surveillance duty. At the last minute he dodged behind the bus shelter and peeked out at her.

  She hung a matching black leather bag in the crook of her arm and held her red trench coat in the other hand. A tight-fitting cream sweater finished the outfit. Just looking at her made his mouth water and with one glance around the crowded street, he could see he wasn’t the only one. Guys were turning to stare at her backside. One or two made a comment as she passed which made her smile politely. She was a walking, talking fantasy. And the whole thing made him mad. Against all reason he wanted her to put on her coat and cover up.

  She turned a corner into the Lanes. Jack ducked into the crowd behind her. She didn’t stop at any of the touristy shops, or linger over the jewellers’ windows. Instead she dodged through one of the narrow alleys lined with tiny curio shops, which were squeezed into old ill-fitting buildings. In a flash she disappeared around another corner. He thought she was heading for one of the popular cafes and he hurried to catch up. He frowned. How did she run in those shoes?

  As he turned into the crowded lane a hand grabbed the shoulder of his jacket and pulled him into a doorway.

  “Stop following me,” Davina told him.

  Jack’s heart sank. He used to be a lot better at this. Five months off the job was all it had taken for him to lose his touch.

  “What makes you think I’m following you?”

  They were standing so close he could smell her perfume. Vanilla and something spicy. Did she always have to smell so edible?

  “You’re joking, right? You’re denying it?”

  Jack folded his arms over his old Star Wars T-shirt and vintage biker’s jacket.

  “Fine, at least tell me how you spotted me.”

  Her smile was so wide it lit up her whole face.

  “You really don’t know?”

  Jack growled. Davina spun him around to face the shop window on the other side of the alley.

  “Look at yourself,” she commanded. “Now look around. You don’t exactly blend.”

  Jack saw what he always saw. A guy. Maybe a guy who could use a shave, but that was it. In the reflection he could see Davina shake her head at him.

  “It’s the middle of the day. There are women out shopping, kids bunking school and lots of wimpy guys in business suits – and then there’s you. Six foot of muscle, bad attitude and leather. And what’s with the spiky hair, don’t you own any product? Is it even possible for it to lie flat?”

  He looked at his hair. He couldn’t see anything wrong with it. He turned back to Davina.

  “It’s the leather jacket, right?”

  “Yes, absolutely.” She patted his arm. “Ditch it and you’ll become invisible.”

  He was pretty sure she was patronising him. He frowned, which made her smile widely again.

  “So why are you following me, Mr Landlord?”

  She batted impossibly thick, long lashes and he wondered if they were fake.

  “Curiosity. I know you don’t want me in the house. I know you’re hiding something. Probably something illegal. So I thought I’d see what you did with your day.”

  “You really must have time on your hands. What exactly do you do now that you aren’t policing the city anymore?”

  Actually, Jack had been wondering that recently too.

  “Right now I’m pretty much focused on you, sweetheart. Why don’t you own up? You know what they say: confession is good for the soul. Get it all out in the open and we can stop this. What do you say?”

  “Okay, I confess...”

  His heart stopped beating. His mouth went dry.

  “...that having you follow me is getting on my nerves. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that because I’m not going to quit until I know for certain what you’re up to.” He thought about it. “Or until I get you out of my house.” Another thought. “Or until you’re in prison.” He shrugged. “Whichever comes first.”

  She patted his chest above his heart. The touch of her fingers, even through the cotton of his t-shirt, made him lose his place for a beat.

  “That’s good to know. Has anyone ever told you that you’re completely misguided? Obviously dedicated, but definitely misguided.”

  He frowned. There was a police station full of people who thought exactly that. He took a step closer to her.

  “My instincts have never been wrong before,” he said. And for the first time in his life he was worried that statement might be a lie.

  Her eyes went wide. She licked her lips.

  “Well, aren’t you blessed. My instincts are wrong all the time.”

  She blinked hard.

  “Take yesterday for instance. My instincts told me to throw myself at a strange man.” She waved at the area around them. “And now I have my very own stalker.”

  Jack started to say something, but Davina stepped back out into the flow of people. For a second he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should he hang back and try to follow her again? That seemed a little stupid now, like kids playing hide and seek. Or worse – he caught sight of himself in the window – a game of ‘Where’s Wally?’ A crazy idea hit him.

  “Hold up,” he called as he jogged to catch up.

  “I thought our conversation was over,” she said without looking back.

  “I’ve decided to hang out with you for the day, see what my favourite tenant gets up to.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. People grumbled as they moved around her.

  “Are you thick? Doesn’t that defeat the point of trying to catch me doing something illegal? I’m not very well going to do anything stupid with you attached to my hip now, am I?”

  She had a point.

  “I know,” he said and found himself smiling again. “But at least this way I get to salvage something from the day.”

  She glared at him.

  “What?” she demanded. “You get to drive me nuts?”

  “Exactly.” He was pretty pleased with himself.

  If he couldn’t catch her doing anything stupid, he might be able to slow her down. Either way, it was win-win. He was sticking to her like glue until he had some evidence, or he had her out of his house. Davina let out a long weary sigh.

  “Fine.” She spun on her heels then eyed him over her shoulder. “I need someone to carry the bags anyway.”

  And then she was off. There was a little voice in the back of Jack’s head telling him that his latest idea had nothing to do with police work, or with gathering evidence. It didn’t even have anything to do with the fact he wanted the woman out of his house. No. He caught a whiff of hair as it swayed in front of him and his mouth watered. She was a magnetic field and he’d been sucked into it. The little voice in his head laughed at him. Underneath it all, Jack just wanted to be close to her. And wasn’t that a sure sign he needed therapy after all?

  Davina’s heart was racing as she pushed open the door to Miss Clara’s Cake Emporium. Usually the thought of being in cake-making heaven was enough to get her adrenalin flowing. Today, it was due to the fact she was shopping with her very own bodyguard.

  “What is this place?” Jack said.

  “Baking supplies.”

  “Don’t you just pick up flour at the supermarket?”

  Poor stupid man. She ignored him as she perused the shelves and displays. It was his idea to tag along, so tough if it confused his simple little mind.

  “Davina, darling.” Miss Clara was about a hundred and twenty and the size of a pixie. “Who is the gorilla?”

  Davina grinned.

  “That’s exactly what I thought when I first saw him, but now that I know him he’s a lot more like the Terminator.”

  The two women stared at Jack, who wasn’t amused.

  “Holy smoke,” said the old lady. “You’re right on the money. Hey, big fella.” She prodded Jack with her designer walking stick. “Say ‘make my day.’”

  Davina rolled her eyes.

  “That was Dirty Harry.” She turned to Jack. “Say, ‘I’ll be back.’”

  The two women stared at him expectantly. Jack looked from one to the other.

  “Buy what you need and let’s get out of here,” he said.

  “Hey,” Davina said. “You’re the one following me, remember. We’re on my schedule.”

  He folded his arms and took up residence in the middle of the shop.

  “Make him stop that,” Miss Clara said. “He’s going to frighten the customers.”

  “Try to blend in,” Davina ordered.

  He seemed to think about that for a second and then he took off his jacket. Miss Clara and Davina shared a look.

  “Yeah, that makes all the difference,” Miss Clara mumbled.

  Davina turned her back on Jack. There was nothing she could do about him, but at least she knew where he was. It had been a really creepy feeling earlier when he’d been following her. She glanced in his direction and caught him studying her behind. Unfortunately she also knew exactly what he was doing too. Super. She wiggled her rear.

  “Like what you see?” she said before she thought better of it.

  Jack grunted but his cheeks flushed slightly, which made her smile wickedly.

  “I’ve got the cake tins you ordered.” Miss Clara signalled to Betsy her assistant who disappeared into the back of the shop. “I also have some wonderful chocolate moulds and edible glitter.”

  “Oh, glitter.” She leaned against the glass counter which was full of sugar decorations and sighed. Bliss.

  Betsy put the cake tins on the counter along with a little brown paper bag. Davina scooped the paper bag into her handbag.

  “What was that?” Jack said.

  When she turned, he was pointing at her bag. With a heavy sigh, she retrieved the brown paper bag. She opened it and shoved it under his nose.

  “Even though I don’t have to tell you anything – here, look for yourself.”

  He did. He took out a small jar of edible gold dust and stared at the label, clearly mystified.

  “What is this?” he demanded, which made her wonder again if he could read.

  “It’s fairy dust,” she told him. “Go ahead, sprinkle some on yourself and fly away.”

  He waved the jar at her as though it was evidence.

  “Is this payment for something?”

  The three women stared at him.

  “You paint icing with it,” Davina said at last.

  “As far as I know it isn’t currency,” Miss Clara said drolly.

  “Except, maybe, for the fairies,” Betsy said helpfully.

  Jack gave them the evil eye before returning the paper bag. Davina rolled her eyes for the other women to see as she turned back to the counter.

  “I’ll need some naughty cupcake cases,” she leaned closer so she could whisper. “And I’ll take the penis shaped chocolate moulds.”

  “Chocolate penises?” Jack boomed behind her. “What the hell kind of shop is this?”

  She spun around to find that he’d moved from the middle of the shop where she’d left him to stand right behind her. She frowned – she would have to remember that he was light on his feet.

  “I’m catering a hen party,” she told him as haughtily as she could.

  “And what exactly are you putting in the chocolate penises?”

  The man had to be completely thick.

  “Chocolate,” she said.

  His face said ‘yeah, right’. She turned back to Miss Clara.

  “Can I pay you at the end of the month?”

  “Of course you can. As long as you bring me some of those wonderful brownies next time you’re in?”

  “It’s my pleasure,” Davina said.

  When she turned back to Jack he’d gone into man mountain mode. The jacket was back on. The arms were folded and every muscle screamed tension.

  “What?” she demanded.

  He shook his head slowly with disgust.

  “I’m on to you, Davy. It’s just a matter of time until I get the evidence I need. You should keep that in mind.”

  As Davina walked past him and out of the shop she replayed the morning in her head. At no point had she mentioned filming around Jack. She glanced at his clenched jaw. So what the heck was yanking his chain?

  Jack was fuming. The woman was supplying half of Sussex with her drug-filled brownies. She was brazen about it. Making deals in front of him. Deals with tiny old people. Seriously. What was the world coming to? Didn’t she care that he was ex-police? They walked in silence down the steep hill towards the sea.

  “Are you going to be with me all day?” Davina asked. Her tone was cool. Like she was the one offended.

  “Yep.”

  “Really? All day? If I tell you to get lost now are you going to be ten feet behind me hugging the shadows until I go to bed?”

  If he wasn’t mistaken that was anger he was hearing. Good. He was angry too.

  “What are you going to do about it? Dial 999?”

  Her pink lips pursed.

  “I can’t very well do that when you are best buddies with half the station, can I?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s the reason.”

  Her heels clicked annoyingly on the pavement beside him.

  “You’ve got an attitude problem,” she told him.

  “Trust me, Davy, attitude is the least of my problems.”

  She took a sharp turn into the covered car park beside the cinema.

  “Where are we going?” He trailed behind her.

  “To get my car.”

  Jack had abandoned his car at the TV station, paying a huge hourly parking rate for the pleasure. There was no way he was going back for it now. Looked like he was hitching a ride with Davina. His jaw clenched so tightly he was giving himself a toothache. He cast a glance at the 1950’s sex bomb beside him. Gorgeous or not, the sooner she was out of his life – and his house – the better. He trailed behind Davina, all the way up to the fourth floor. At last she stopped in front of a car. His heart sank.

  “This is where I get off.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Bye, bye,” she told him.

  “Please tell me that isn’t your car,” he said.

  Davina turned towards the vintage miniature Citroen 2CV with pride. She patted the roof.

  “My baby,” she cooed.

  “It’s pink,” Jack said.

  “You’re very observant,” Davina told him. “You should be in the police force.”

  Jack grimaced at the car. It wasn’t just pink. It was bubble-gum pink. Who in their right mind would do that to a car? He folded his arms and stood straighter, hoping it would intimidate her even a little.

  “I’m not getting in that,” he said.

  “No one asked you to.”

  She opened the door, squeezed herself in and started to pull the door shut. Damn, she was going to leave without him. He grabbed the door and wedged himself against it so that she couldn’t shut it.

  “Get out of my way.” Her eyes narrowed. It made him swallow hard.

  “Look,” he said. “Let’s be reasonable. We both know that I won’t fit in there. You barely fit in there. How about we go get my car? My nice big SUV. We’ll both fit in that and I can drive you home.”

  He smiled as though it was a completely rational suggestion.

  “I’m going to count to three and then I’m reversing. You can hold onto the door. I don’t care.”