A Paris Melody

Gunning For Gunner

"Meredith's flown home to mother," Jill told the target, in her crisp, disdainful manner. "You won't be seeing her again. But if you're looking for a partner . . . well, maybe we can do business."

"What kind of business?" Gunner got his pool cue down from the rack, frowning at the tall, tanned goddess with the honey-blonde hair. Gorgeous girls were everywhere on the island of Martinique. But the sleek, long-legged woman sizing him up from across the pool table was something else again. Sensational body, face like an angel. But a cool, calculating look in her long-lashed, velvet-brown eyes. Was Jill McDonald just a hot girl looking to score? Or was she after something else?

"The kind that pays, of course." Jill leaned over the pool table, lining up her next shot. She felt the heat of Gunner's stare, his hungry eyes pinpointing the swell of her firm breasts, barely confined in a bright yellow blouse that left her tanned belly bare. Easing the ball into the pocket she stood up straight and chalked her cue, knowing her body was all the great big hairy-chested boob could think about. "Maybe you're too small-time to be interested in a big score."

"I'm interested." Gunner felt like he had to have the hot babe right now, lay her down and have her right across the pool table. They'd been shooting pool all night but all the time he'd been checking her out, picking up signals that she was just aching to rub her body up against him and let him squeeze her real tight. But every time he got a hand on her shoulder or an arm around her waist she somehow slipped away, lancing him with a cool glance and darting a sharp question over her suntanned shoulder.

"Who do you really know on this island?" Jill put up her pool cue, smoothly leading her target to a table for two in a dark corner. Drinks were waiting. Island rum that packed a punch.

"Oh, don't worry about who I know. I want to know you." Laughing at his own joke, great big Gunner sat down across from the blonde goddess. He loved the way their knees bumped under the table. But Jill still looked so cool, even a bit disdainful. He had to show her he was big time. While Gunner was telling her all the big deals he'd done, and backing it up with some big names, he was also cleverly running his hand up and down her long leg. Girls liked it when he touched them. They always did. And Jill was so incredibly hot!

"And what was the name of the man who handled the stolen diamonds?" Cool gaze. Hypnotic voice. Jill's soft, velvet-brown eyes were locked on his. Her soft, husky voice probed his mind, drilling deep into his thoughts, almost like she could suck him dry. "What did he look like?"

"Fat little guy. Bald head." Gunner suddenly felt drained, and really dizzy. Jill's lovely face kept swimming in and out of focus. He felt like he'd been talking for a long time, but he couldn't remember anything he'd said. Or even why he'd started talking. "Let's go," the groggy giant mumbled, trying to regain control of the situation. "My place . . . me and you . . . bed."

"Right," Jill agreed, neatly folding a crisp wad of bills under her glass. The potent tropical rum had done the trick. "Your place. Bed."

Gunner couldn't believe his luck. When they left the bar, two of Jill's girl friends actually wanted to tag along. One was tall, slim and blonde, like Jill, and the other was short and dark and sexy. Neither of them were shy about greeting him in a friendly way. First they were putting their arms around his shoulders and then they were sliding their hands down his body and into his pockets. When he they laid him down in the back seat of his own car, he figured one or two of the girls would climb on top of him. And maybe they would have, except everything suddenly went black.

"Well, your plan worked," Christine murmured, standing side by side with Jill as the two of them watched the red car taillights fade into the blackness. "Nicole will drive him to the police station, and I guarantee he'll be questioned properly. What's our next move?"