CHAPTER THIRTY
Cassie grabbed hold of the insecticide spray.
As Pierre’s grip on her shoulder tightened, her shaking finger pressed down on the nozzle. She was going to do it. She was going to spray him with poison like a roach, and she didn’t care if he choked on the fumes, or even if it blinded him.
Then, from downstairs, the door knocker banged, loudly and repeatedly.
For a moment, they both froze. Then Pierre’s grasp eased, and Cassie lifted her finger off the nozzle.
Pierre stood up hurriedly, fastening his belt and swearing as he turned away from her. It was as if he’d forgotten her in an instant, thanks to this interruption. With no staff on duty tonight, there was nobody else to answer the door, and that meant she had been given a reprieve.
“Probably another damned journalist
