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better way to spend a Friday evening? Escorting the headstrong daughter of The City News editor on her adventuring was an inviting prospect.
    A high-pitched tinny horn beeped at him. Sebastian looked at the mud-splattered Ford Fiesta pulling into the pick-up bay with a dubious expression. It certainly wasn't built for the off-road driving that someone had been doing in it and the engine sounded far from healthy. He opened the passenger door and threw his bag over the seat into the back.
    "Hey, Trixie. Wild car."
    She gave a wry smile. "I'm afraid it was the only available pool car. Please get in, Mr. Armitage."
    Sebastian looked at the dash as he dropped into the seat. The car had been round the block a few times and the temperature gauge was already riding a little too high for his liking, the last thing you needed in crawling traffic.
    "And please, don't call me Trixie. It makes me feel about five years old."
    "Okay, Amy it is then…and drop the Mister will you, it's Sebastian."
    She nodded, and without further comment began to maneuver the car back into the stream of traffic. She had the radio on and tapped the steering wheel in time to the music as she watched the traffic. He wanted to start chatting and lead the conversation toward the subject of the attraction between them, but he told himself there would be time for that when they arrived at their destination. He wanted to have that sexy, feminine body of hers in his arms again. He was pretty sure she was thinking the same. The intensity of the attraction left him in no doubt as to its mutual reciprocation, even if she was a tad tetchy about having him as her minder. The chemistry had hummed back and forth between them like live wires crackling across the floor of her father's office. Even now, with her calm, self-assured poise at the wheel of the car and the fact she was focused on the road, there was something magnetic in the atmosphere between them. Sebastian savored the anticipation and took the chance to admire her.
    Gone was the elegant trouser suit from earlier, which had lodged in his memory because of the way it softly molded over her figure—a figure any full-blooded male would want to get acquainted with. She was the epitome of womanhood to a man like Sebastian, with curves in all the right places and a graceful fluidity in her movements. It made him want to experience that movement at much closer proximity. She looked just as good wearing casual gear, if not even sexier in khaki combat trousers and a tight black tank top. If he wasn't mistaken, she didn't seem to be wearing a bra, but he decided not to consider the issue for too long, lest he get fixated with it.
    Her long hair was clipped up, showing off her elegant neck and the soft skin of her collarbone. A black denim jacket was lying on the back seat. She was dressed for action. He couldn't resist smiling to himself. She glanced over and, catching his smile, returned it, then quickly glanced away.
    He sensed she was a bit tense. It wasn't surprising. Norton had warned him she wouldn't be keen on the company. Their encounter at The Frock and Jacket the evening before—whilst entirely delicious—only served to complicate the situation for her. It was tempting to tease her about it, but if he wanted to get her into bed—and that was his intention—he'd better not push her buttons too much. Not yet, at any rate.
    "Where are we headed?"
    "Arundel."
    "South coast seaside town?"
    "Yes, do you know it?"
    "Only by reputation, I've not visited. I've been in London for four years but I'm a northerner myself. Yorkshire man, born and bred."
    "It's an old, historic town west of Brighton," she explained. "Popular with tourists because of the castle and the antiques shops. You know the sort of place."
    "And you have a lead there?"
    "Yes. An edition of Ghost Hunter was filmed there. I want to interview anyone who remembers Quentin's visit and I also want to check out a venue the show was filmed at. It's a house