she vowed. She needed this time alone in order to figure out just what the man was up to, and she wasn’t going to let his presence here take her mind off that.
He unfolded his long form from her couch, and refolded the paper. “Okay,” he said agreeably. “I thought you were serious when you said you wanted to be with me all the time, but I guess you didn’t mean it.”
Her mouth hung open at the man’s audacity. “When did I say that?”
He regarded her patiently. “Last week, of course. At work.”
“Work,” she repeated. Comprehension slowly dawning, she asked cautiously, “Just what did you have planned for the day?”
“Well, you said last night we should talk to Cantoney again, and I think you’re right. But I don’t want to wait until Monday to do it. I’ve got an itchy feeling where he’s concerned, like something’s about to go down. I’m going to try to find him and talk to him today.” He shrugged and moved toward the door. “I figured you’d insist on coming with me, but I guess I was wrong.”
She closed her eyes in embarrassment. He’d done it to her again. Why had she automatically assumed that the man was here on a social visit? Because he’d tried to confuse her, the rat. And she knew how amused he’d be if she let on that he’d succeeded. “Hold on,” she commanded. He halted and turned to eye her quizzically. “Um, you’re right, I do want to come. Give me a minute, and I’ll change.”
Cruz moved back to the living-room area as she disappeared down a hallway. He heard the door shut behind her, and he allowed himself a tiny grin. Somehow he’d known that showing up here would throw her off kilter. Madeline Casey was too used to being in control, he decided as he settled himself onto the couch again. It did her good to have her usual cool manner blasted away once in a while. He hadn’t been lying-he did want to find Cantoney, as soon as possible. He could have called her and arranged to have her meet him. But something inside him was unwilling to let her off that easily. He sensed she tried to keep distance between them, even while they worked side by side. But that alone didn’t challenge him. There was just something about her.
Let’s face it, she
When the doorbell rang he called, “I’ll get it,” and without waiting for an answer he strode over and opened the door.
“Hello, you must have found Madeline. I’ve come for my paper. Are you done with it?” Ariel inquired as she spotted it laid out on the coffee table.
Cruz gave an abashed shrug. “Sorry about that. I had to do battle with Madeline and I sort of forgot to bring it over.”
She waved aside his apology. “Forget it. I forgive you, especially if you’re going to interrupt her monotonous day and take her away from all this.”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
Ariel looked satisfied. “Good for you. It’s about time someone walked in and shook that woman up.” She eyed him approvingly. “You look like just the man for the job.”
Madeline walked into the room to overhear the last remark. “We’re going to
Her neighbor raised her eyebrows. “Of course you are, Madeline, of course you are. And don’t worry.” Her eyes twinkled and cut back to Cruz, “I’m not disappointed. Not at all. Although I think your descriptive powers need a bit of work.”
Cruz observed the wicked note in Ariel’s tone and the almost desperate look on Madeline’s face as she strode to the front door. “I’ll talk to you later. We really have to go. Cruz is kind of in a hurry.”
“I am?” he muttered in surprise.
Ariel strolled by both of them and gathered up her newspaper before joining them at the door. “I can take a hint,” she informed them with a smile. “Far be it from me to interfere with two of Philadelphia’s finest doing their jobs. Never let it be said that I got in the way of… duty.” Her throaty laugh was full of innuendo, and Madeline gritted her teeth, while Cruz joined in the laughter. Honestly, Ariel was always irrepressible, but with Cruz around she was worse than usual. He encouraged her, just like now, his handsome face alight with amusement, as if Ariel had guessed correctly, and they had much more than the job on their minds. She was thankful when she got the two of them into the hall, and turned to lock the door.
“Call me when you get home, Madeline,” Ariel said. “Unless you’re otherwise occupied of course. And Cruz, take good care of your hair. You never know, you could be bald by the time you’re, oh, say fifty or so.” She went into her own apartment, chuckling to herself, and Madeline walked quickly to the elevator, staring fixedly at the closed door. She ignored Cruz’s puzzled expression and repeatedly stabbed her index finger at the button.
“She’s really got a thing about hair,” he observed, eyeing her closely. “She’s mentioned it both times I’ve seen her.”
Madeline shrugged and walked quickly into the elevator when its doors slid open. “She’s a hair stylist,” she offered weakly. “She talks about everyone’s hair.” Determinedly she changed the subject. “So, tell me. Where will we find Cantoney today?”
“Only one way to find out.” When they left the building he guided her to his car, which was parked illegally out front.
“You like to live dangerously.” It wasn’t the first time she knew of that he’d parked with such a disregard for city rules.
“Yeah, I live on the edge, all right,” he agreed dryly. If she thought ignoring parking laws was living dangerously, he had a lot he’d like to show her on the subject. Oh, yeah. Heat immediately flared in his belly. Somehow Madeline gave him the impression that she needed a little of the unexpected in her life. As hard as she tried to keep that calm pose and remain in control of every aspect of her life, he’d bet that beneath that unruffled exterior lay a woman with a fiery passion. He was curious about that woman, the one he suspected lived beneath the cool facade. He found himself wondering about her all the time. Or maybe fantasizing would be a more accurate word. It was much easier to picture the woman he thought she really was when she was dressed as she was today. She was wearing a pair of slim-fitting jeans, and if she was aware of what they did to showcase those long legs, he knew she would never have worn them. She’d scraped her hair back again, into a fancy braid this time, and although regrettable, it was probably best. He didn’t need the distraction right now.
Madeline got into the low-slung automobile. She couldn’t help admiring the leather interior. Despite the possibilities of how Cruz had paid for this car, it was impossible not to appreciate its beauty.
“So, what do you think?” he asked as he got in and buckled his seat belt. “Buckle up, Madeline. Or do you need some help?” He reached up to the visor and pulled out a pair of darkly tinted sunglasses and put them on.
She obediently followed his command, loath to give him an excuse to lie half over her to help her with the belt. “What do I think of the car?” she clarified. “I think it’s my turn to drive today, isn’t it?”
At his look of horror, she had to laugh. “Don’t tell me that you’re one of those men who won’t let a woman drive his precious machine?”
“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “I don’t let anyone drive it.”
“Isn’t that a little ridiculous?” At his uncomprehending look, she added, “To become so attached to a car that you fear for its safety.”
“It isn’t ridiculous,” he denied swiftly. “I’m like a kid with a new toy. I don’t want to share it just yet. Although if you were to try your best to convince me to let you drive, I couldn’t stop you. If you were to tempt me with your womanly wiles, I just might succumb. I’m not always very strong.”
She didn’t allow herself to think of just how weak he might actually be. Or of what he might have done in order to afford the car. Her imagination was wildly careening in another direction. Of just specifically what it might take to convince Cruz, as he was suggesting.
She firmly pushed the thoughts away. “It doesn’t matter.” She shrugged lightly, looking out the window as he pulled onto the interstate. “I don’t feel like driving it, anyway.”
“Liar. Do you think I don’t know you’re dying to get your hands on my-” he caught her swift glance, and deliberately paused another moment before completing the sentence “-steering wheel?”
“Believe whatever you want, Martinez,” she invited breezily, returning her gaze to the scenery flying by.
“Oh, I will,” he said with certainty. “And I believe that right now it’s killing you. It’s eating you alive. You want to drive this car so badly you can’t stand it.”
