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“You managed that with a straight face. Mo always was crap at business names. What would you call it?”

“Mo isn’t one of my clients. So, are you going to lose touch again?”

“He said he’d call. I wish him all the luck in the world, but I’m not sure how it affects me.” But it might shoot his plans forward faster than he’d dare hope. Mo was still perfect for the printing. And now Cas was at the pointy end of starting a business, he was beginning to appreciate the skills he lacked.

“What did you say your plans are?”

“They’re not concrete.” Cas had also realised Beatriz had all the business skills he lacked.

“And there’s the issue of jinxing them if you speak them aloud. Uh-huh.”

“Are you mocking my caution?”

“At the risk of pissing you off, and there’s that spark of rebellion growing stronger—your fault because you encourage me—I went back and checked some business registers. Anna and Hunter’s first meeting was one of those bizarre acts of fate. You brought him to a work function. They hit it off, until she discovered Hunter was the evil developer who’d swooped without warning and bought the building where she hoped to house her childcare centre. He cancelled her lease the day it was due to be signed.”

“Incredible piece of luck taking Hunter that night.” Cas had made enough confessions for one day.

“A records search shows the previous owner of the building was Raed Hariri. Is that the Raed Hariri I had dinner with last Sunday?”

“You did a records search.”Well, damn.

“Due diligence it’s called in my job.” She smiled.

The sheer mischief in her expression landed low in his body, making him desperate to get his hands on her.

“You can tell me to mind my own business.”

She paused, giving him plenty of time to say just that, but Cas wanted to tell her, to get her professional as well as her personal take on his ideas.

“Do your not-yet-concrete plans also have something to do with Nick Richardson, Hunter’s father?”

“He donated the sperm. He’s not Hunter’s father in any way that counts.”

“That’s telling me.”

“Did you find anything else?” He tugged at his tie with one hand and pulled the coffee table into a reachable position. “I’m getting comfortable because you clearly have more to say.” He lifted his feet.

She pressed a hand to his thigh. “Pizza’s going to be served there soon.”

“Pizza’s designed to withstand football boots, jock straps and sweaty underarms.”

“Not my pizza.”

His phone pinged at that moment.

“Saved by the bell.” She smiled smugly. “I’ll get the cutlery.”

“I’m eating from the box tonight.”

“True confessions need cardboard? And you’re a fabric guru.”

“I’m a man of many parts.” He returned with the pizza and set it on the table between them.

“I’m starving.” She lifted a piece dripping with melted cheese to her mouth, took a bite and closed her eyes. “Yum.”

Cas took a slice and bit in.

“Hunter outmanoeuvred Nick Richardson to buy your father’s building. What’s Nick’s gripe with your family?”