being a woman has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, no?” Disbelief colored her voice. “Tell me something. When you were partners with McLain, how many times did you dive on top of him when you thought you heard a gunshot?”
Silence reigned for a minute. Madeline saw the truth of her words written on his face, but he remained stubbornly quiet. “Look,” she continued, a little calmer, “you can’t do your job if you’re worried about me. And neither of us can do our jobs if you don’t trust my ability out here on the street. If that’s going to be a problem for you, you’d better let me know now.”
“It’s not,” he said finally.
She could feel most of her ire fade away. It was hard to maintain a resounding fury when the other person refused to argue. She became aware of how close they were standing to each other, and she took an unconscious step backward. “Well, good. As long as you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Because the next time we’re in danger, you have to think of me as your partner first. I don’t want your instincts turning me into a woman.”
“Forgive me for believing it could be possible,” he muttered, half turning away.
“What?” she demanded.
He turned back to her and said with exaggerated care, “I said that would be impossible, because I won’t let it happen again. Now, why don’t we get back to work and see if we can track down Valdez?”
Without a word they walked back to the car. They made their rounds again, to Valdez’s apartment, to his usual haunts, but there was no sign of him. By mutual agreement they decided to quit for the day. Neither of them was anxious to prolong their time together.
They separated in the parking lot of the district headquarters, Madeline getting into her car and Cruz striding into the building. He wound his way through the maze of desks until he came to his own, and dropped into his chair wearily. Wiping his hands over his face, he stared out over the top of his fingers unseeingly. The room was a welter of activity, with officers leaving for the day, and others reporting for duty. But the noise didn’t filter through his deep introspection. He sat silently brooding, staring into space. He didn’t notice the man standing next to his desk until a voice in his ear said, “Forget her. She’s not worth it.”
His head snapped around. “Oh, hi,” he said without enthusiasm.
Connor raised his eyebrows. “Whoever she is, she must be something to turn you into such a zombie. How come you haven’t gone home yet?”
Cruz ignored the second question, and scowled at the first. “What makes you so sure I’m thinking of a woman?”
Connor clapped him on the shoulder. “Because, pal, I know you. You don’t have to think so hard when it’s only a case that’s bothering you.”
His friend didn’t crack a smile. “Well, you’re wrong. I wasn’t thinking about a woman.”
“Oh?”
“I was thinking about Madeline Casey.”
“Ah.”
Cruz frowned at Connor. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Connor seated himself on the edge of the desk. “Nothing. Just ‘ah.’” He paused for a moment, then asked curiously, “Care to tell me why Detective Casey doesn’t qualify as a female?”
“Because she doesn’t care to qualify,” Cruz told him sourly. “She made it very clear this afternoon that I was to think of her as a cop only, and not as a woman. And let me tell you, there are times that isn’t very damn hard,” he added.
“Don’t tell me. You hit on her.”
“I didn’t hit on her,” Cruz denied. A moment later he added reluctantly, “I dove on top of her.”
Connor sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“It wasn’t like that.” Cruz explained the events of the afternoon after they’d sighted Valdez and the argument he’d had with Madeline. Then he sank into silence once more.
“Well, she’s right, you know,” Connor said, stifling a chuckle. He’d have given a week’s pay to see the scene Cruz had just described. “You gave a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘cover your partner.’” He lost the struggle and guffawed out loud.
“Oh, you’re very funny,” Cruz noted. “A real riot.” A reluctant grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. A moment later he joined in the laughter.
“Anyway,” he said when they’d both recovered, “she really let me have it. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how her mind works.”
“She was right,” Connor said. “You can’t afford to worry about her. You have to believe that your partner can take care of herself. Why is that so difficult for you?”
“Oh, right, and you’re telling me that you wouldn’t have done the same thing,” Cruz scoffed. “C’mon, I know you better than that. When danger strikes, instinct takes over.”
“And your instincts had you diving to protect Madeline Casey,” Connor said slowly, very serious now. “Sounds like the lady gave you some good advice. You can’t afford to let yourself get sidetracked on the street. Concentrate on the case. And try to keep your distance from Casey. You’ll both be better off.”
Cruz waved desultorily as Connor took his leave. He mulled over his friend’s words. Connor’s warning didn’t surprise him. His friend didn’t trust easily, especially not women. It must have been the hand of fate that had brought Michele and him together. She’d melted the icy reserve that Connor guarded himself with. He grinned slightly as he remembered some of the sparks that had flown between the two before Connor had finally forgotten about being noble and given in to what he’d really wanted, a lifetime with Michele.
But his friend was way off base on this one. Cruz’s protective instincts had nothing to do with Madeline personally. He’d react the same way to any woman who was in danger. His thoughts drifting again, he propped his booted feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair. What was it about Madeline that kept distracting him?
Madeline considered not answering the doorbell when it rang the first time. It had been a long, frustrating day, and she definitely didn’t feel up to Ariel’s brand of wacky humor. But when it rang a third time, followed by a loud knocking, she rose to her feet. It couldn’t be Ariel; she would never stand out there that long. She’d have gone back to her apartment and gotten her key.
Irritated, she went to the peephole and looked out. A miniature Cruz Martinez was in her view, leaning, of course, against her doorbell, with a sack of groceries in one arm.
“C’mon, Madeline, I know you’re in there. I saw your car outside. Open up.”
She stood frozen on the other side of the door. What on earth was he doing here? He was the last person she wanted to see right now. Today had been a grueling one, in more than the usual sense. The episode in the alley was still too vivid, and much too embarrassing. She’d meant every word she’d said to him, but at the same time she’d been berating herself. For despite her very real anger that he’d tried to protect her from the dangers of her job, there lingered a pervasive warmth for the same reason. She groaned silently. The feel of his lean body on top of hers had not been entirely unpleasant. In fact, she wondered uncomfortably how much of her breathlessness had been caused by his weight, and how much from the intimate position. She cringed at the thought. She couldn’t afford to complicate things with this awareness of him. She didn’t want to be aware of him at all, at least not as a man
The knocking continued. Ignoring him obviously wasn’t working.
“C’mon, Madeline, honey, open the door. Don’t be mad. I’ve reconsidered. You can have my baby after all. Now that I’m getting used to the idea, I kind of like the idea of six or seven little Martinez babies of our own. We’ll have as many as you like.”
Her eyes flew open and her mouth dropped, aghast. His purposely loud voice was sure to carry up and down the hallway. Certainly she was having no trouble hearing him.
She unlocked the door and threw it open. “Will you please be quiet?” she implored in a loud whisper. “Are you trying to humiliate me?”
Cruz leaned against her doorjamb. “Hi.” His smile was lazy. “I didn’t think you were ever going to let me in.”
“You were right. I’m not. I just wanted to tell you to leave. Now.”
Before he could answer, Ariel’s door opened. Madeline’s heart plummeted.
