“Bill McCormick,” Justin interjected. “He’s Boy Scout dependable.”

“He’d better be. Have McCormick tell Miss Hart that he heard about her from the bankers at Sander Global who were crying in their drinks at the Racket Club. The Singapore bank was sitting on twenty million of mine that had been siphoned from a factory I own in Bucharest. Miss Hart tracked down the twenty mil to one of their accounts and with her explanation and my threats, I got my money back. Have McCormick contact the Accounting Department at MIT with his job offer for her, so everything looks reputable… McCormick can name his price for his cooperation; let me know the amount. But his pitch has to be convincing. I can’t stress that enough. If Miss Hart finds out I had anything to do with this, I’ll personally cut off your balls.”

“Okay, okay, got it. This babe must be special.” Since Nick never allowed it to get personal with women, the subject was fair game.

“She’s not just a babe. She’s smart—one of the best forensic accountants in her field. I want her to make some money.”

“Whatever you say,” Justin smoothly remarked, figuring the lady also had been smart enough to play hard to get. “Why won’t she take money from you?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Losing your touch, Nick?”

“Yeah, along with every other fucking thing.”

Holy shit. If that wasn’t a bottomless pit of sullen. And over a goddamn woman. “I’ll get right on it,” Justin said immediately, thinking he had to give Max a call and get the story on this woman. “As soon as the setup’s in place, I’ll get back to you. Quick question. What if she says no to McCormick?”

“The guy’s not an idiot is he? See that he makes her an offer she can’t refuse. And keep me posted,” Dominic said briskly. “Daily.”

Two days later, Kate Hart’s phone rang. She was lying in bed, her Boston apartment dark with the curtains drawn, the samurai movie she was watching even darker. When she pulled her cell phone from under the Dunkin’ Donuts bag and a pile of cheeseburger wrappers, she had to squint to see the display. Department of Accounting, MIT? Really? Was she up to being polite now that the one-person pity party she’d been indulging in since she left Hong Kong was in full swing?

But curiosity got the best of her. She took a deep breath and picked up.

“Miss Hart? Jim Henderson.”

Jeez, the head of the department, no less. “Hi, Professor Henderson.” Were they taking back her diploma? The way things were going for her, she wouldn’t be surprised.

“I have an attractive job offer. Interested? Or are you already gainfully employed? Jenny tells me you’ve decided on consulting work.”

Her advisor, Jenny Fields, stayed in touch. Not that Kate had given her more than the most superficial details of her work for Knight Enterprises. “I don’t know if I’ve decided yet. But so far the fees are intriguing.”

“Then you’ll like the sound of this offer. I’ve been contacted by a banker in Singapore who heard about you from some colleagues. He wants to know if you can fly out to Singapore for an interview. Or if not, accept a call from him. They’re paying well.”

“I’ll take a call. Anytime. And thank you, Professor Henderson,” she remembered to say, with her thoughts already racing. Because this job offer was way too suspicious. Puppet master that he was, Dominic was probably involved.

But when she spoke to William McCormick he seemed authentic. He’d heard of her from the bankers at Sander Global in Singapore, who were friends of his. The bank had been pissed about having to write off the twenty million, of course, but impressed with her expertise. And CX Capital Singapore needed someone to run a thorough security check on their major investment accounts. Their IT watchdogs had given them a clean bill of health, but after the scandal two weeks ago when access to their accounts had been shut down for an entire day, they wanted a second opinion, particularly on possible inroads into their monetary funds.

After a few probing questions, Kate was 99 percent sure that William McCormick had never met Dominic. Didn’t even know of him, besides what he’d heard from his friends at Sander Global.

He mentioned that both Sander Global bankers had a personal security team now.

If McCormick was looking for gossip, she was the wrong person to ask. Kate explained that a good deal of the conversation with the bankers in Singapore had been in Mandarin and had been meaningless to her. And honestly, since she didn’t know what Dominic had said to threaten the men, she couldn’t have told him anyway.

William McCormick went on to offer her a hefty fee for the project. He also said he’d have a first class ticket e-mailed to her if she was willing to take on the assignment.

“May I think about it overnight?”

“Certainly.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she politely said.

After she hung up, she lay back on her pillows, weighing, digesting, and reviewing every word of the conversation, trying to decide if there was any possible way Dominic had a hand in the offer.

She finally decided—most likely not. And after having seen how Sander Global operated, if CX Capital was using similar crap security, they needed her.

Tossing back the covers, she climbed out of bed, where she’d been wallowing in her own misery for days. Even though she knew it was incredibly stupid to cry over someone who could have any woman he wanted and probably had. Maybe this call was gypsy fate telling her it was time to forget about the shameless, heartless, unfortunately jaw-droppingly beautiful prick.