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prospect.
    The only fly in the ointment was Flynn. Without asking her permission, the arrogant Scot had moved into the adjoining room and organized a locksmith to break open the sealed-up doorway between the two suites. His excuse was that he needed access to her quickly in case of danger.
    She was still fuming over that one. The only danger she was in was the prospect of living like a nun for the next few days. She and Flynn needed to have a heart-to-heart. It was time to put him in his place.
    Without bothering to knock, she opened the newly restored door. The short hallway between the rooms was lined with cupboards. Well, she could always do with more wardrobe space. She hesitated at the closed door and decided not to bother knocking. He was staff, for god’s sake.
    Summer pushed her way inside. The door of his bathroom was closed and the bedroom was empty. There was no harm having a quick peek through his things. She riffled through his clothing. Lots of plain things. Dark coloured, but good quality. A toilet bag beckoned and she unzipped it. Standard stuff. Razor. Soap that smelled like vetivert. She quite liked that. Condoms – two packs, neither of which had been opened. She scowled. Hardly surprising, given his complete lack of skill in the charm department.
    She picked up a bottle of Etro and sniffed. Flynn knew his stuff, but what was he doing with expensive Italian cologne, when he insisted on going around dressed like a tramp?
    Summer stubbed her toe on something under the bed. What could he be hiding? Kneeling down, she found a dark, heavy carryall. She tugged hard and landed in an ungainly heap on her ass.
    ‘You idiot,’ she muttered. It felt like weights. Maybe he had brought his own gym. There was a fully equipped one in the basement. Served him right for not asking first. Shepulled the zipper down and congratulated herself when she heard the clank of metal. She was right. It had to be gym stuff.
    The metal bar was dark and long and had a funny end on it. Hardly something she could hang weights on. She reached inside and found a handle. Well, not a handle exactly. It was cool and heavy to the touch. Summer pulled it free. It was a gun. An honest-to-god, scare-the-knickers-off-you gun. Sweet mother of Jesus. Flynn had brought weapons into the house.
    Summer was glad she was kneeling down. She wasn’t sure if her legs would have held her up. The door opened and she had no place to hide.
    ‘Do you make a habit of riffling through everyone’s luggage, or just the stuff belonging to the hired help?’
    Flynn’s eyes narrowed and she wasn’t sure if it was disapproval at finding her with enough weapons to start a small war, or the fact that she was showing quite a lot of leg. She itched to tug her short skirt down but she gritted her teeth and suppressed it. She was more than a match for Flynn and this wasn’t the time to show weakness. ‘Were you planning to rob a bank this weekend?’
    A grin quirked his mouth before he broke into a genuine smile, softening the harsh planes of his face. ‘No. If I were robbing a bank, I would have brought the C4. It’s quicker,’ he said.
    ‘What’s C4?’
    ‘My favourite explosive,’ he said with a grin.
    ‘So all of this is for me?’ Summer stroked the dark metal barrel, pleased when she caught a trace of nervousness on his face.
    ‘All for you, darling.’ The face was stern again, the hint of humour gone.
    She didn’t know what to say. A small shiver raced down her spine. Flynn had guns. This wasn’t a joke any longer. Her dad was gone, and she was stuck here with Action Man. This was
so
not happening. She scrambled to her feet and brushed past him. ‘Just keep them out of sight,’ she said brusquely.

    The alarm alerted Flynn when the first car arrived at the outside gate. ‘Who is it?’ he demanded.
    ‘Er, it’s Maya and Natasha,’ an uncertain voice replied. ‘This is Dunboy House, isn’t it?’
    Through the CCTV camera, he could see two