A rap on the doorjamb and a voice startled her. “Madeline? Are you done in there?”
She whirled around in dismay. While her whole world had fallen apart, Connor McLain had been waiting outside, no doubt wondering when he was going to get his office back. She crossed to his desk and snatched up some tissues from the box there and hurriedly blew her nose. “Yes,” she called out, her voice husky. She crossed to the door and opened it, not meeting his eyes as she apologized, “I’m sorry. That was rude. I… forgot where I was.” She meant to duck by him, not willing to be pinned in place by his assessing gaze. But before she was able, he spoke again.
“Mind staying for a minute?” Connor leaned against the door, an effective means of blocking this woman’s escape, should she be so inclined. Studying her, he realized that she would have made no such move. She looked as though she’d been leveled by a bulldozer.
“Care to tell me what that was all about?” he asked bluntly. “Cruz will tell me anyway, in time. I don’t remember when I last saw him looking the way he did when he walked out of here, and, lady, I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”
She let out a choked breath at his words. “Well, I’m afraid that will have to wait. I don’t have the authority to discuss this with you.” She walked to the door, and after staring at her intently for a moment he slowly moved aside.
“When the time comes, you
Her voice was weary when she answered. “I’m afraid that when the time comes for explanations, Lieutenant, you’re going to have to wait in line.”
Madeline made a trip to the rest room to restore a semblance of order to her makeup. Then she used a stall for privacy while she put the vest on. When she could delay it no longer, she headed back toward Cruz’s desk. She met him in the aisle, walking toward the door.
“C’mon,” he said brusquely, passing by and not turning to see whether she obeyed. “It’s time to head back to the warehouse.”
Madeline followed him silently. She’d never seen his face look like this before. Rarely was it without some remnant of humor, a crooked smile, a quirked eyebrow. Now it was as impassive as a statue’s, and she despaired of ever reaching him on any level again.
She waited awhile, but when it became obvious that he had no intention of speaking, she broke the silence. “I know you’re hurt and angry. But, Cruz, sometime we’re going to have to talk about this.”
His eyes never left the street in front of him. His voice, when he answered, was devoid of inflection. “Madeline, we have to work together. Maybe for a day more, a few days, tops. The only things we have to say to each other in that time have to do with the case. Do you understand me?”
“You can’t wish this situation away!” she exclaimed. “And you can’t pretend that we never happened.”
“No, I sure can’t, much as I’d like to.” His voice turned grim. “I’ve got a job to do, and we both know how good you are at
Those words proved prophetic to Madeline in the next few days. It was tortuous to be so close to Cruz, yet to have this emotional chasm between them. He was as professional as he’d promised to be. Every word he uttered had to do with the case. Otherwise there was only deafening silence.
And she was helpless to bridge that silence. He had been agonizingly clear about his feelings regarding her actions. What else was there to say to him? She wanted to beg with him again to hear her out, but she wasn’t sure how to after he’d been so precise about his wishes. She wasn’t up to dealing with another verbal slap, however justified it might be.
She hadn’t spoken to her father since he’d gone to the headquarters, and she couldn’t imagine a time when she would willingly speak to him again. She’d known he was a snob, and that was what had motivated him to ensure that she and Cruz would not continue a relationship. Casey could barely stand the idea that his daughter was a cop. He’d never given up the hope that she would come to her senses and make her living in a more “acceptable” fashion. The idea of her with Cruz on a personal level was a threat to the control he attempted to maintain over her life. The fact that he would also be smashing any feelings that she would have toward him would not have occurred to Geoffrey Casey. He regarded emotion as a frivolity best cast aside in any case.
In all the time she’d spent agonizing over how she was going to tell Cruz, never had she come close to predicting the mind-shattering pain of Cruz’s rejection. It was torment to see his attitude toward her turn into the same courteous manner with which he would treat a stranger. Stiffer than that, really, because Cruz Martinez had never met a stranger. His charm had always been in evidence, no matter whom he was speaking to. But now, toward her, his face was blank. His tone was carefully even, and not by one flicker of an eyelash did he exhibit any emotion toward her. When he did address her, he called her Madeline, and that, more than anything else, told her how far he’d really withdrawn from her. She’d been Maddy to him since the night they first made love. The once- hated nickname had taken a different flavor on his lips. She realized with bitter certainty that she wasn’t likely to hear it again.
Even as the time seemed to crawl, part of her wished it would slow even more. If these last few days were all she had left with Cruz, part of her wanted them to last forever. Madeline felt torn in two by the constant tug-of-war within her. When she made mistakes, she went all out.
But somehow she still felt that if she’d been able to be the one to tell him, things might not have gone so badly awry.
Cruz shifted in the passenger seat. Despite the darkness that had fallen outside, despite his usual ability to relax anyplace, anytime, the news that Geoffrey Casey had given him two days before had taken its toll. It had been strange, meeting Madeline’s father for the first time. Never had he suspected that Madeline was the daughter of Councilman Casey. Certainly she’d never mentioned it. At first he’d been struck by the resemblance between the two, obvious in the bone structure of their faces, the same straight noses. He’d been so sidetracked by the similarities that it had taken him a moment to catch the gist of what the man was saying to him.
Councilman Casey was a cold bastard. First he dropped the bombshell that Madeline worked for Internal Affairs. Then he’d laid the news of the investigation right at Cruz’s feet, and he’d smiled charmingly as he’d twisted the knife. Apparently telling of his daughter’s duplicity hadn’t bothered him a bit. Hell, he’d probably been proud of her. A chip off the old block, and all that. Obviously they had more than bone structure in common.
There had been times, especially in the year since Connor had met and married Michele, that Cruz had felt what came close to envy for his friend. Maybe it was his age, but there had been occasions when he’d wondered what it would feel like to find someone he wanted to spend his life with. To marry that someone, plan to spend every day with her, plan to have a family with her.
Now he not only knew what it was like to experience those feelings, he knew what it was like to have them blow up in his face. He hadn’t reckoned with the flip side of it. Letting a person get that close meant they had the ability to inflict excruciating emotional pain. And he was sure feeling his share of that, thanks to Madeline Casey.
It shouldn’t have been difficult to shove her out of his mind, and his system. There had been plenty of women over the years who-for one reason or another- no longer had a place in his life. He’d always managed to extricate them with grace, and he was still on friendly terms with most of them. Why didn’t that seem possible with the woman keeping silent watch next to him?
Because she’d gotten to him, he acknowledged dourly. He’d let her matter to him, too much. And he’d gotten burned big time. It was a bit difficult to get her out of his mind when all he had to do was look across the car to see her. It was hard to forget her voice when it was the only one he heard all day, albeit not often.
His hands clenched on his lap. Who was he kidding? It was damn hard to forget Maddy even when he had a few hours at home, before they were due back on watch again. His apartment was full of her. She was in front of his patio doors, her hair afire with light. She was in the kitchen, fiddling with her sandwich or, even more erotic, sprawling across the counter beneath him. She was in his bedroom, lying across his bed in wanton splendor.
It angered him that he was haunted by those images of her even when she wasn’t near. The first time he’d
