Absolutely, Positively

we played their local fair last summer.”

    “Speaking of which,” Harry interrupted. “What are you doing here tonight? You're supposed to be working.”

    “Aunt Evangeline said I could sneak over to Seattle to see you, Harry.” The good-natured amusement faded in Josh's eyes. “I wanted to talk to you about some stuff. Sorry I interrupted your evening.”

    “You should have called,” Harry said.

    “I tried.” Josh shrugged. “I got the answering machine.”

    Harry's mouth twisted slightly. “I turned off the phones.”

    Josh looked surprised. “Yeah? You always take calls from family when you're home.”

    “I made an exception tonight, okay?” Harry said coolly. “Why didn't the doorman use the intercom to tell me you were on the way up?”

    “I told Chris that I wanted to surprise you,” Josh said.

    “Hey, don't worry about it,” Molly said quickly before Harry could continue to grill his cousin. “I was about to leave, anyway.”

    Harry's amber eyes gleamed with impatience. “There's no need for you to leave. We haven't finished our business.”

    Molly winced. “No problem. We can discuss it tomorrow.”

    She'd hoped that in the excitement of Josh's arrival Harry had forgotten that she'd lost her temper and fired him. What in the world had gotten into her? she wondered. Firing Harry meant never having an excuse to see him again.

    That thought sent a chill through her bones. She got to her feet.

    “Don't leave on my account.” Josh backed hastily toward the front door. “I'll just go down to the lobby and read or something. Chris won't mind. He likes the company.”

    “Nonsense.” Molly briskly straightened her jacket. “It's nearly eleven. You two obviously have personal things to discuss, and I need my sleep. I've got a business to run. Harry, will you call a cab?”

    Harry's jaw tightened. “I'll drive you home.”

    “There's no need. A cab will be fine.”

    “I said, I'll see you home,” Harry repeated evenly.

    Molly met his implacable eyes and thought better of debating the subject. “If you insist.”

    “I insist.”

    Maybe he had decided to let her fire him after all, Molly thought. She wracked her brain for a way to forestall that possibility.

    He was irritating, arrogant, and downright stubborn, but for some reason the last thing she wanted to do was fire Harry.

    Molly's home was on Capitol Hill, some twelve blocks from Harry's downtown condo, but the short drive through the city streets was one of the longest trips she had ever made. She could not decide if Harry was angry or merely brooding.

    Whatever his mood, Harry drove the sleek, hunter green sports car with graceful precision. Molly was unfamiliar with the make and model. She had, however, been raised in a family of mechanical geniuses, and she knew expensive engineering design when she saw it. She made a note to ask Harry about his car. But not tonight.

    At the moment, she was enthralled not with the car, but with the way Harry handled the gear shift and clutch. She realized that he derived a subtle, sensual pleasure from the smooth, perfectly timed manipulation of the vehicle's controls. He drove the car the way he would have ridden a horse.

    “Did you actually travel with a carnival?” Molly finally asked when the silence lengthened.

    “No. My father did. As Josh told you, he owned an amusement show. But he sold it shortly after he ran off with my mother. He took the money and opened a dive shop in Hawaii. That's where I grew up.”

    “I guess I sort of assumed that you came from a long line of academics.”

    The streetlights revealed Harry's bleak smile. “I'm the first member of the Trevelyan clan since the first Harry Trevelyan to make a living doing something other than telling fortunes, racing cars, or throwing knives.”

    “When did the first Harry Trevelyan start the tradition?”

    “Early eighteen hundreds.”

    “And your mother?” Molly asked.

    “She was a Stratton.”

    The significance of his middle name finally clicked. “One of the Seattle Strattons? The commercial real estate development family?”

    “Three generations of money, business influence, and political clout,” Harry agreed in a voice that lacked all expression.

    Molly thought about that. “An unusual combination,” she said delicately. “Your father and your mother, I mean.”

    “A carny and a socialite?Unusual is one word for it. The Trevelyans and the Strattons have used a whole