Free The Sinister Touch by Jayne Ann Krentz

jealous?”
    “Of course not. Forget that and tell me what’s happening at one.”
    “Mason’s cousin is in town. Just showed up without any notice. Called Mason’s apartment this morning. He’s been sent here on family business, apparently. He’s taking Mason to lunch, and Mason doesn’t wish to be alone with his cousin. Feels it will be a stressful situation, to say the least. I volunteered you and me to run interference. The lunch is free, Gwen. Cousin’s going to pick up the tab.”
    Guinevere eyed her sister appraisingly. “Carla, haven’t you learned yet that there is no such thing as a free lunch?”
    “What could go wrong?” Carla asked with perfect confidence.
    “We could become embroiled in an embarrassing family conflict.”
    “Nonsense. By going we’ll be helping Mason to avoid a conflict.”
    Guinevere gave up the argument and went to work.
    ***
    Dane Fitzpatrick turned out to be something of a surprise. He was, according to Mason, the son of his father’s sister, an only child, just as Mason was. Apparently the family had always expected Dane and Mason to be close friends, but the truth was, they had very little in common. When they were very young, Mason said, there had been a distinct hostility between himself and his cousin, probably promoted by the fact that the other family members tried to force them to be buddies. But there were also some very basic differences between the two men. Dane had been content to fulfill family expectations as far as career and lifestyle were concerned. Mason had been of a more independent and rebellious temperament.
    Given Mason’s surly comments on his cousin, Guinevere wasn’t expecting the gallant, charming, thirty-five-year-old man who looked as if he had just stepped out of a fine East Coast law office. Impeccably dressed in a gray suit and old-school tie, his slightly thinning hair meticulously trimmed, Fitzpatrick exuded quiet confidence and the sense of authority that came naturally to those who are descended from a long line of successful upper-class lawyers and a good family. He was a handsome man, with the kind of physique that spelled tennis courts, golf, and sailing on a regular basis. He had what must have been the family’s dark eyes, judging from the fact that Mason had them, too. He also had excellent manners. Guinevere was surprised by the gracious way he covered up his astonishment at seeing Mason walk into the restaurant with two strange women in tow.
    “Please sit down,” Dane said with quiet gallantry as he accepted the introductions. “Mason, you should have mentioned you were bringing guests. But no matter. This table will seat four.”
    Guinevere glanced around at the interior of the expensively paneled restaurant. The place was noted for its fish, of course, just as most of Seattle’s good restaurants were known for seafood. But this particular restaurant was also known for its prices. It looked as if it had been established for fifty years, but Guinevere knew for a fact that it had been built only recently. Nevertheless, the mahogany walls, old-fashioned chandeliers, and heavy green carpeting gave the impression of a much older heritage. She had been looking for an excuse to dine here, and she wondered now whether Mason or his cousin had chosen the place. A waiter materialized near Dane Fitzpatrick.
    “Would anyone care for a drink?” Fitzpatrick asked.
    “Sure,” Mason said. “I’ll have a beer.”
    Mason hadn’t bothered to dress for the occasion. He was wearing his usual paint-stained jeans, a scruffy-looking pullover, and an even scruffier pair of Nikes. There was a certain air of defiance about him that touched Guinevere. She had the feeling that Mason had been battling his family a long time. Carla was watching him with a protective expression, as if ready to jump between Mason and Dane, should violence erupt. But violence wasn’t about to erupt, Guinevere knew. Dane Fitzpatrick would never stoop to such