Grand Passion

back to you as soon as I've got something,” O'Reilly said.
    “Thanks.” Max hesitated. “By the way, there's no great rush on that Atkins situation.”
    “What the hell's that supposed to mean?”
    Max kneaded his left leg and studied the sea. “It means that I'm in no great rush to get answers. Take your time.” He hung up the phone.
    The reason he was in no hurry to locate Atkins was because once he did he would have to carry out the mission that Cleo and the others had assigned him. It was almost certainly going to be Mission Impossible. Max was ninety-nine percent sure he wouldn't be able to talk Atkins into returning to the inn's odd family.
    Hell, Max thought, he didn't have the slightest idea of how to go about convincing a young man to accept his responsibilities.
    The Atkins situation was shaping up to be one of those exceedingly rare, but very memorable, occasions when Max knew he was almost bound to screw up. He hated failure, hated it with a passion. The price was too damn high.
    When he failed to talk Atkins into coming back, Max knew he would not find a warm welcome waiting for him back at Robbins' Nest Inn. People treated you differently when you didn't give them what they wanted. An outsider was welcome only as long as he was useful.
    It was a pragmatic issue, Max told himself, not an emotional one. Being edged out of the inn's cozy family would make it difficult to continue searching for the Luttrells. That meant he had to find the paintings before he left in search of Ben Atkins.
    Max continued to massage his aching thigh. The answer was obvious. He would have to seduce Cleo That would be the fastest, easiest way to get the answers he wanted.
    Cleo was the key to recovering his inheritance. She had to know more than she'd admitted. There was no reason for Jason to have lied to Max on his deathbed
    Cleo knew where the paintings were, and Max knew from reading The Mirror that she was vulnerable to passion. Now that he had discovered the fire in her, he was almost certain he could make her want him.
    Max stopped rubbing his thigh and contemplated the pot of herbal tea Andromeda had sent upstairs with him earlier.
    “Cleo says you're having a bit of trouble with that leg of yours,” Andromeda had said as she'd bustled about the kitchen, preparing the concoction. “Try a cup or two of this and see if it doesn't help.”
    “Does wonders for my arthritis,” Daystar had volunteered.
    “Try it, Max,” Cleo had insisted. “Andromeda's teas are great for headaches and sore muscles.”
    The stuff tasted like essence of weeds, as far as Max was concerned. But the novelty of having Cleo and the rest of her “family” fuss over him had proved irresistible for some reason. He'd already gotten one full cup of the stuff down. Maybe it was his imagination, but his leg did seem to feel better, just as it had last night when Cleo had massaged it. He decided to try a second cup.
    Hot images of the previous night flooded back, sending another rush of desire through his veins. Max sipped the tea as he allowed himself to savor the memory of Cleo's mouth under his. Sweet, fresh, and trembling with a shy eagerness.
    His instincts told him that he could satiate himself with the warmth of her body as he had never been satiated before in his life. All he had to do was unlock the flame inside the ice.
    But time was running out. O'Reilly was good. Max knew that even taking his time about it, his friend would come up with the answers he had been sent after fairly quickly. At that point Max would be forced to track down Atkins and talk to him. He had given his word.
    That meant he had to find the Luttrells before he left in search of Atkins. Max knew that after he'd had his little man-to-man chat with Atkins, things would never be the same for him here at the inn. He would be an outsider once more.
    No big deal, Max thought. He was used to the role of outsider. But he wanted those Luttrells.

    Two days later Cleo popped into the kitchen to check on dinner preparations. She saw Daystar hovering over a large pot of what looked like Cosmic Harmony's very special bean and vegetable soup.
    “Have you seen Andromeda?” Cleo asked.
    “She'll be here any minute.” Daystar added fresh basil to the pot. “Got delayed at the Retreat.”
    “Did something happen?” Cleo sniffed the soup appreciatively.
    “Some man in a gray suit and a silk tie drove up just as we were leaving. He insisted on talking to her. Said it was