Never Love a Naked P.I.

She briskly cut the sandwiches in two. Marc quickly retrieved one of the plates and delicately plucked the knife from her hand.

Her rattled brain clutched at another subject. “What are you doing with a gun?” she challenged.

“I have a permit.” He reached to spear pickle chips onto his plate.

“I don’t like guns,” she grumbled.

“I don’t either. But I like the reasons that I have to carry one even less.” He poured them each a glass of milk.

“Promise me, Ace, it ain’t you. I’m taking a hell of a risk here. Be straight with me. I could use your help.”

Her body stiffened. “If I had the slightest…”

Trust.He was trusting her. Even if she hadn’t the remotest idea what he was talking about. She unclenched her jaw and studied the narrowed blue eyes, shadowed by the intent, compressed eyebrows. The tight constriction in her chest slowly ebbed away. “I promise, Marc. It ain’t me.”

With a sigh of enormous relief he pulled her roughly to him and narrowly missed smushing the chicken sandwiches between them.

“I could lose my license for this,” he announced happily, cupping her head in his strong hand and holding her tightly against his chest. The surprise that Amanda felt at his reaching for her was instantly replaced with a wave of pleasure at being plastered securely against Marc’s strong chest.

He released his grip and held her away from his body; his face a confused mask. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away.” His eyes swept her look of quiet amusement. “No, I’m not sorry. Not at all.” He grinned wickedly. “Okay,” he cleared his throat and his voice changed to one of brusque efficiency. “Good. Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get down to business.”

“Business?”

“Yep… you and me, babe. We’re a team. Welcome to the P.I. biz.”

Amanda frowned. “Does that mean I’m supposed to spy on my friends, now?”

“It’s not spying,” Marc said earnestly. “God, no. I’d never ask that of you. But, Ace, somebody in the class is in a lot of trouble and it may be one of your guys. If we can figure it out before the feds do…”

“The feds?” The lunch dishes clattered into the sink.

At the same moment, Cissy appeared at the broken apartment door accompanied by a middle-aged Spanish man carrying a toolbox. With a concerned nod of greeting to Amanda the superintendent began replacing the broken lock and chain under Cissy’s watchful eye.

Amanda turned back to Marc. “The feds?” she repeated quietly. “Do you mean to tell me this is an international thing?”

Marc chewed on his lower lip and sat back in his chair on the opposite side of the small dining table. “I… I need a few more days before I blab all. Man, this is not the way I usually operate.” His broad shoulders took on the Humphrey Bogart slouch. “You’re putting me off my feed, babe.” He beamed his killer grin. “I like it.”

He shifted into yet another gear as Amanda sat down opposite him. “All I’m asking is that you pay close attention to how the group reacts to my… to Antonio’s poses. We’re going through all this hassle to see if we can elicit a specific response. After tomorrow night’s session, I should know more about whether it’s gonna work or not. You’re sharp. You’ve got a good eye and a great ear. Just tune it my way a bit more. Okay?”

“Flattery seems to be getting you everything you want.”

The edges of the beautiful, sculpted lips shot up. “We’re not at the ‘everything’ mark yet, but we’re sure as hell working on it.” He reached for her cheek again. She drew back.

“Marc… I…” Amanda feared his touch as much as she longed for it. “I’ll do what you ask, but I need more space between us, for the time being.”

“Gotcha.” He pulled his hands back and laid them on the table, palms up. The same gesture he had used in the Village restaurant the night before. Simply there. Open. Waiting for her to make the next move.

She placed her fingers tentatively in his palms. The throb in his wrist visibly quickened as he closed his hand gently over hers.

Cissy breezed over. “Mr. Raymondo is so efficient. I’m going to give him a nice tip.” She giggled at Amanda’s sharp look and Marc’s smiling leer.

“Allow me.” Marc trailed his fingertips over Amanda’s as he left the table. He exchanged a few words in Spanish with the super and tucked a bill into his hand. Mr. Raymondo’s profuse thanks trailed after him as he disappeared down the stairs.

“Give you a lift?” Marc said to Amanda. “I’m springing for a cab uptown, I can drop you.” He reached for Cissy’s hand which she turned in his grip so that he felt impelled to press it in gentle farewell rather than a firm handshake.

“Iknow we’re going to be seeing more ofyou.” Amanda suppressed a cough and Marc chuckled wickedly. Cissy looked from one to the other in feigned questioning annoyance.

“What?”

Chapter 7

AMANDA felt positively giddy.

“Is everything all right?” Professor Angeli asked anxiously as she hurried into the office. “Mindy told us the waitress said you had an urgent message from your roommate and that you and the other young man rushed away.”

“Is she okay? Cissy okay? I know how she gets nuts sometimes. She’s been hitting the booze again, right? And those damn pills. Should I go to her?” Jimmy was worried.

“Jimmy, she’s fine… now. No, it wasn’t alcohol or pills. I think she would love to tell you all about it. It was a break-in but she was very brave. We got there in the nick of time. It was very exciting.” She turned from her amazed assistant to the stunned older artist. “The other gentleman was very helpful. I was very grateful he was with me. Good Lord, Untermeyer is still here?”

“Yes,” the professor quickly explained as Jimmy rushed to the nearest phone. “Young Nathan was brilliant, charming, effervescent. He showed Untermeyer the most amazing sketches for upcoming projects. Our money man is positively drooling with anticipation and all but forcing largesse into our corporate hands. Ah, Mr. Untermeyer,” he greeted the approaching businessman. “Here is our esteemed executive returned from a rather exciting morning. I’m sure she’s anxious to continue your discussion.”

The compact man’s anxious expression morphed into the scowl of an important person extremely annoyed at having been kept waiting as he swept imperiously into Amanda’s office.

“I’m sorry, I’m not at all anxious to continue our discussion,” Amanda announced quietly as she slid behind her desk. Untermeyer’s jaw dropped. “I was called away and it’s been a difficult few hours for me. Our particular niche of the publishing business is like that, as I’m sure you can appreciate. We must move fast and make, hopefully, well-informed decisions.

“You can appreciate my wanting to meet with you when I can give your proposition my fullest attention. Perhaps you’d like to have further discussions with your partners, now that you’ve had a chance to meet our personnel and observe our operation, before you make your final offer.”

She ushered the startled man from her office. “Please give me a few days to assimilate some new developments. Jimmy will set up another meeting that will ensure my undivided attention. I’m sure you don’t feel your hours here have been wasted?”

“No, no.” The sputtering man could barely speak. “No, not at all. You got a great shop here. Just the kinda thing my guys are looking for. Don’t go with somebody else until I get a chance to pitch. Okay? Promise me that?” He held out an anxious, damp palm.

“I promise. Thank you for being so understanding. Professor, if you would see our guest out.” Jimmy, still on a nearby phone, gave Untermeyer the OK sign as the professor smilingly led him away.

Amanda made a quick stop by Nathan’s cubicle, where the young man was feverishly working on a brilliantly conceived illustration.