The city was in bloom, and so was Andrew Wentworth's latest scheme. He paused to adjust the cornflower and baby's breath boutonniere, smoothed his hand down the sleeve of his suit, appreciating the silky linen and cashmere blend. He checked his image in a gleaming window. He was particularly taken with this hairstyle; the slashes of grey through the blond at the temples gave him a distinguished moneyed air, while his sartorial flair hinted at the devil within.

Oh, yes, it was a glorious day and Andrew realised he was humming as he turned into the park. And why not? The sky was a triumphant blue, the breeze a dreamy caress carrying the tang of citrus groves, and the slow clacking of sprinklers sent water arching, jewelled refractions trailing the lacy arabesques. He waited for one such to clear the path before making for the break in the flowerbeds that surrounded the patio fanning out from the bar of the little cafe with the canopy of lattice and vine.

He wasn't the only one with a routine. He clapped a shoulder, invoked golfing terms for a moment of bonhomie amid the regulars and complimented each of the gaggle of gossips who cooed as he passed, only to lean closer and whisper whisper whisper over their mimosas once he'd moved on.

What the hell, he was in the mood to celebrate. So he veered from the pattern he'd established and took a seat at the bar instead of his corner table beneath the looping clematis and its hubcap sized purple blooms.

Andrew settled onto the red leather stool, careful to preserve the pleats in his tailored slacks, cataloguing the pleasingly neat symmetry of glasses, bottles and supplies on the shelves behind the bar from under his lashes. The mirror-bright espresso machine at the corner dispensed cafe lattes and short blacks under the control of a laid-back young man with cool hazel eyes and a formidable memory for faces and the accompanying beverages.

Andrew had to admit that occasionally gave him pause.

But Lee was efficient, possessed of a quirky sense of humour, and his crooked grin was a big hit with the Venus sector. He aimed it now at the ladies who brunched and sent them on their way in all their Monet prettiness with an extra flutter in their steps.

'Mr Wentworth,' Lee acknowledged. He reached for a glass from the pyramid behind him, flipped it upright in a blindingly quick move and set it on the counter. 'Large cafe latte with a vanilla twist.'

There was nothing like coffee infused with genuine vanilla bean, with the specks of potent darkness sprinkled onto the froth. Andrew splayed his fingers on the gleaming bar so shiny he could admire his tight pores. 'Let's be crazy and sample something off the specials board.'

That earned him a raised brow but Lee slid the glass aside. 'What's the occasion?'

'It's a ridiculously gorgeous day and we're alive to appreciate it. That's got to be worth celebrating.'

Lee flicked a scarlet butterfly investigating his hair towards a pinstriped Serendipity orchid. 'Certainly can't live life like buried treasure. Now, what's your pleasure?'

Andrew ignored the hint of melody and contemplated the blackboard and its neat white script hanging on the support post. 'Take it from the top.'

'White Chocolate and Passionfruit Martini,' Lee read. 'That's a sweet and sour...vodka, passionfruit cognac, and white chocolate liqueur, finished with a passionfruit wheel and white chocolate powdered rim.'

Andrew winced. 'Too much chocolate.'

'I'm a dark chocolate fan myself.' Lee raked streaky tawny hair back from his face. 'Screaming Sunset is vanilla vodka, chambord, champagne, fresh strawberries and lime.'

'Sounds a bit active for this hour.'

Lee reached for a martini glass, let it dangle upside down from his fingers. 'Then let me introduce the Flower Power Martini. It's delicate, it's fresh, with lychee juice, blush vodka, rose syrup, charged with champagne and finished with a lychee rose petal blanket.'

Andrew stroked his jaw, eyed the board thoughtfully. 'I'm sensing something of a floral theme here.'

Lee shrugged. 'We are in the heart of a garden, in the middle of a town devoted to botanical pursuits.'

'Point,' Andrew granted. 'Flower Power, it is.'

Well, really, how could he resist a name like that? Flower Power...so apropos, and proof that the universe had a sense of humour.

So it was surrounded by the glow of appreciation that Andrew idly watched Lee build the drink. He moved fluidly as he lined up bottles, constructed the delicate layers and assembled the fragile garnishes.

When the elegant glass was set on the bar before him, Andrew nodded approvingly. It was a thing of beauty from the shining colours to the enticing bouquet, and the taste...Andrew rolled the sip around his palette. It was sunshine and bliss, jelly crystal roses and childhood innocence...

He reverently set the glass down. 'My God.'

Lee grinned. 'Guaranteed to make a believer out of all of us.' He moved away to serve a customer at the takeaway window.

Andrew swivelled, leant an elbow on the bar behind him for support and watched sunlight play hide and seek with the foliage around the cafe as he sipped. A ray would turn this leaf translucent, highlight the tracery of veins of another, and limn that one with gold. He tipped his head back, blinked. The entire canopy glowed mellow and rich, and that was appropriate too. After all, he had successfully seduced away the secret to developing an exotic strain of hybridised scented roses guaranteed to revolutionise the cut flower industry. Now he basked in the afterglow. In the warmth and wellbeing turning his limbs languid, rewarded with the bell-like notes of sleek birds the colour and speed of fighter jets. Andrew twirled the stem of his glass, looked down and saw only bits of flower in the base. He turned to put it down on the bar. Except the air seemed to have more solidity than usual and he had to strain to push the glass toward the counter.

Lee took the glass from him mid-motion and raised it to the streaming sun. 'Yeah, it was a good day when I invented this one.'

Andrew concentrated. He had to tune in to the sound of Lee's voice. And it was as though he saw him clearly for the first time. Saw the authority in his stance. Saw the way the ring on his hand glittered. Saw the knowing in that crooked grin, so much like a grin the Cheshire Cat would wear.

'Not so good a day for you,' Lee observed sympathetically.

Andrew's pulse tripped to a rock n' roll beat as his senses tingled, honed by a lifetime of relying on his wits, but his body ignored the flight instinct. He was numb from the neck down and upwards his head felt too free and floaty, practically detached and that was a very bad situation for a con man to find himself in.

On the heels of that realisation came the awareness of how empty the cafe had become. It was just him and Lee.

'I didn't mention which species of rose went into the rose syrup component of that cocktail, did I?' Lee rocked back on his heels. 'Remember Briar Rose, the Sleeping Beauty? The rose featured in that legend is the paralysis rose, strong enough to enchant an entire castle. Luckily, you got a minute distillation so it should wear off, unlike the plans Carlotta Maguire has for you.'

Andrew managed to roll his eyeballs.

Lee shook his head. 'You slipped up there. If you wanted to drag out the role, savour the victory, you should have kept up the sweet words and snuggling. That's what made her suspicious. That's what made her angry enough to hire me to determine if you were cheating on her. Which you were, but with your own sordid self instead of another woman.'

Someone walked in to the cafe and their shadow brushed Andrew's consciousness. He struggled to gain control of any muscle, no matter how small. His tongue was dry and swollen, his pulse beat so hard it hurt, and his lungs worked overtime to drag enough air through his nostrils.

'We're closed,' Lee commanded and stared until the caffeine seeker left, unnerved.

Lee locked the till, hung up his black half-apron. 'Losing to another woman Carlotta may have accepted, eventually, with a minimum of maiming, but losing to money?'

He emptied the stainless steel jug of tepid milk down the sink, hit the tap to wash the dregs away, and turned the jug upside down on the draining board. 'Nah uh. That's adding insult to injured pride.'

A flick of a switch wound the shutters down around the patio, blocking out the sunshine. As the gloom made itself at home, Lee walked from behind the bar and leaned in, spoke as one operator to another. 'You started celebrating a little too early, and within your victim's reach. I suspect you won't make that mistake again. Not after she's through expressing her feelings, and I bet she'll find a way to say it with flowers.'

Andrew's swollen tongue and throat put pressure on his vocal chords but he achieved a gahhkh anyway. He could feel the sweat building on his forehead, sticking his tailored linen shirt to his back.

'But here's the thing.' Lee stepped back, rolled his sleeves down. 'The sample of Carlotta's rose you snitched? It's worthless. You obtained it from one of her controlled release plants, one genetically imprinted not to propagate. For that, you needed a seed or cutting from the mother plant and even then it would require certain conditions to reproduce. So I'm thinking that right down at the subconscious level, Carlotta didn't fall for your charms.'

Sweat gathered at the peak of Andrew 's eyebrow, fell into his eye to sting. It was nothing compared to hearing a lifetime of skills denigrated.

Three paces from the door Lee turned, snapped his fingers once and pointed. 'Oh, yeah. As you're the first to ingest distilled paralysis rose, I have no idea how long the effects will last. Especially when combined with alcohol.' Lee angled his head, thoughtful. 'It could be five minutes, it could be five days...it could be before Carlotta's gardeners arrive.'

Andrew bore down, was rewarded by a twitch of his little finger, a scrape of the manicured nail against the bar.

Lee clicked his tongue and reached for the clock on the wall. He brought it over, leant past Andrew's shoulder to lay it on the counter right in Andrew's line of sight. Then Lee walked back to the door, opened it. 'But you were right about one thing: it is a ridiculously gorgeous day.' He shut the door very quietly behind him.