Trust Me on This

  “I’m probably going to lose my job too.” Dennie shook her head. “I’m going to bounce back from this, I really am. It’s just taking me a minute.”

  “You know if your job involves doing something you’ll get arrested for, you might want to rethink careers,” Alec said, adding silently, especially since I don’t want to be the one who busts you.

  Dennie shrugged. “Oh, heck, what’s a jail sentence? At least I’ll have three square meals.” She looked at him plaintively. “Will you bring Walter to visit me in the slammer?”

  “Hell, I’ll bail you out for conjugal visits.” Alec put his arm around her and pulled her close, patting her shoulder. “You’re just depressed because you look like a nun. It depresses me too.”

  “I know this is a tough one,” Dennie said, more to herself than to Alec, “but I need it. I need to know I can get the really tough ones. Even if I go to jail.”

  “If it’s that bad, I strongly suggest a career change. Depressing careers are bad for you. Also, I think your hair’s pulled back too tight.” Alec pushed her head forward and started pulling bobby pins out of the knot. “It’s got to be giving you a headache. It’s giving me a headache.”

  “It’s not that bad.” Dennie put her chin in her hands and stared into the lobby while he unpinned her hair. “I thought it made me look more stable.”

  “It made you look like Nurse Ratched.” Alec pulled the last pin out and watched her hair fall down into tangled silky curls. He pulled his fingers through it, partly to even out the tangles and partly because he knew it would feel so good against his fingers. Dennie never moved. “You know you’re pretty passive here. Would this be a good time for me to make my move?”

  “Not if you want to keep your teeth,” Dennie said, but there was no threat in her voice.

  “Hey,” Alec said again, and pulled her back to face him. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. I’m here. I’ll help. Come on.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead and then on the nose and then, softly, against his better judgment, on the mouth.

  “Don’t do that,” Dennie said, her voice cracking. “You’re just a cog in my career wheel. Don’t try to get important to me.”

  “Of course not,” Alec said, and then he had to kiss her again, still softly but this time with some staying power. “Feel free to toy with me and then cast me aside,” he whispered against her mouth, and kissed her again, feeling her lips finally move against his and her hands rest lightly on his arms.

  People were staring, he noticed vaguely as he came up for air. Probably envious. He’d have been envious. He leaned forward to take her mouth again but she pulled back. “Do you think I’m a loser?”

  “Well, I didn’t until you started acting like one,” Alec said, and Dennie dropped her hands and straightened.

  “That was cruel,” she said, some of the flash back in her eyes.

  “Probably dumb too,” Alec said. “If I’d stuck with being understanding, I might have gotten laid in gratitude.”

  “Oh, yeah, I bet you get a lot of sex that way,” Dennie said, all of the flash coming back. “On account of you being so sensitive and all.”

  “Good,” Alec said. “Now tell me I’m ugly, and I’ll take you into dinner and introduce you to my aunt Vic.”

  Dennie grinned at him with such warmth, he was rocked by it. “And then you’ll buy me ice cream, right? You are a nice guy, Alec.”

  “Well, don’t tell anybody.” Alec stood up to keep from reaching for her again. “The last thing I want is for somebody to think I’m one of those sensitive nineties kind of guys.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dennie said, standing too. “Nobody thinks you’re sensitive.”

  “Good.”

  “Except me.”

  “Knock it off,” Alec said, and pulled her toward the dining room.

  Harry sat in the kitchen and listened to Victoria pretending to be a half-wit while they waited for Alec and the Banks woman to join them. He enjoyed it enormously.

  This is some woman, he told himself. Tough. Bright. Brave. Smart. Soft. Good thing he had fifty-eight years of experience to protect him or he might have fallen for her. Good thing he was too smart for that.

  He heard Vic say, “So this would be an investment in my future. Oh, Mr. Bondman, that sounds very … good. Really.” Then he heard her pause and add in a soft, slightly confused voice, “Did you say this was in Florida?”

  Bond must be ready to throttle her. They wouldn’t need to send him up the river. They could just let Vic drive him crazy. He started to laugh, and then he remembered her in black lace and stopped.

  Oh, hell.

  Whatever was bothering Dennie hadn’t gone away, Alec realized. It just metamorphosed into something different: antagonism toward Brian Bond.

  Alec introduced her to Victoria, Donald, and Bond, and watched her charm the daylights out of them all, especially Victoria. She really was amazing once she got her sights on someone. Witty and intelligent, she drew Victoria out all through dinner, asking her about her career and discussing her paper from that morning with clarity and understanding. Alec gave her another point for thoroughness: He loved his aunt and even he hadn’t sat through three academic papers for her, but Dennie had. Hell of a woman.

  “You came to hear my paper this morning?” Victoria had said, clearly flattered but fortunately still pretending to be a half-wit.

  “I actually went to hear Janice Meredith,” Dennie said. “But I stayed to hear yours when I saw your name in the program. Alec had told me so much about you, and obviously he hadn’t exaggerated.”

  “Alec told you about my research?” Victoria asked, flabbergasted.

  “Certainly. He’s very proud of you,” Dennie said.

  Alec opened his mouth to comment, and Dennie kicked him under the table. “Ouch,” he said, and glared at her.

  “I notice you’ve done a lot of work on Shakespeare and pop literature.” Dennie leaned forward, and Victoria did too. “I also thought your article on Much Ado as a forties screwball comedy was fascinating.”

  “That article was in Signs two years ago.” Victoria looked at Dennie in disbelief.

  “I know,” Dennie said. “I read it this afternoon at the library.”

  Attagirl, Alec thought, and then remembered she was one of the bad guys.

  Victoria transferred her gaze to Alec. “Since when do you date women who go to libraries?”

  “Hey,” Alec said. “I have taste. I know a winner when I see one.” He smiled goofily at Dennie. “Right, honey?”

  Dennie ignored him to concentrate on Victoria’s publishing history while Victoria nattered on about nothing. Bond and Donald listened politely and then began to talk quietly to themselves.

  Alec shifted in his chair. Something was very wrong. If Dennie was on Bond’s team, she should be working the conversation around to real estate by now. Hell, if she hadn’t been there, Bond could have brought it up; that had to be what he was talking about with Donald now. After all, that’s why they were all having dinner together. Alec bowed to no one in his respect for Dennie’s deviousness, but for the life of him, he couldn’t see how she was going to move the conversation from feminist literary criticism to Florida oceanfront property.

  After another fifteen minutes and the salad, it became obvious that she wasn’t.

  “So, Brian,” Alec said, breaking into Dennie’s discussion of Thelma & Louise as the nineties version of The Awakening. “My aunt tells me you have some pretty exciting land deals cooking. Tell me about it. I’m always interested in a good investment, especially real estate.” He flashed his standard goofy grin. “Can’t go wrong with real estate.”

  “What?” Dennie said, momentarily thrown off stride.

  “Well,” Bond said modestly, “I wouldn’t want to exaggerate the possibilities, but—”

  “Absolutely phenomenal,” Donald pronounced. “Alec, you really should get a piece of this.”

  “You think so?” Alec said, t
rying to look slow but interested at the same time. God bless Donald for suggesting it.

  “Think how cute it would be,” Victoria cooed. “We could get adjacent lots. Like the Kennedy compound.”

  “The Prentice compound,” Alec said. “I like it. Tell me more, Brian.”

  Brian told him more all through dinner. Victoria grew girlishly excited, Donald remained proprietarily pleased, and Alec did his best to become cautiously enthusiastic.

  What he didn’t notice in time was that Dennie was losing her temper.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said to Bond finally as the dessert plates were being set before them. “You’re selling oceanfront property that the EPA says cannot be developed, but you’re sure that they’ll reverse that decision after a little political pressure?”

  Bond shrugged urbanely. “You have to understand Washington, my dear. The Beltway does things differently.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Donald said.

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dennie said, and Alec jerked around to face her, appalled.

  “Dennie!” he said, and Victoria chimed in with, “Dennie, dear!” but she plunged on, ignoring them both.

  “Al Gore is in Washington,” she told Bond, disdain palpable in her voice. “Have you read his book? The only thing he’s more protective of than endangered coastline is Tipper’s butt. There’s no way—”

  In desperation, Alec knocked his glass of wine into her lap, but he forgot Dennie’s reflexes. Her hand shot out to block it, the glass overbalanced, and the dark red wine splashed down his pale blue shirtfront instead.

  Alec stood up. “Well, gotta go,” he said, blotting the wine from his chest with a napkin while he used his other hand to jerk Dennie to her feet. “We’ll just go back to the room and try to get this out. Say good night, Dennie.”

  “Wait a minute!” Dennie said, but Alec stiff-armed her from the dining room while Victoria’s good-bye bubbled behind them.

  Chapter 5

  Once they were out in the lobby, Dennie jerked herself out of his grasp and stalked toward the elevator.

  “Now, wait a minute,” Alec said, but she kept on walking. He moved after her, taking long strides to catch up with her at the elevator doors.

  “Go away,” she said, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her around.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he said.

  “What’s wrong with me?” She jerked her arm back again. “I finally get to meet your aunt, and things are going great, I’m going to save her, and you try to dump wine all over me! What’s wrong with you?”

  “Why is my aunt so important?” Alec asked. “And why were you giving Bondman such a hard time?”

  “Your aunt is important because she can get me an interview I need,” Dennie said. “Well, also because she’s a sweetie, but the interview too. And Bondman is a crook. I can’t believe you can’t see that. Anybody could spot him a mile away, but not you. No, you’re offering him money. The Prentice compound. What a twit you are!”

  Alec frowned at her. “What interview? You’re a reporter?” He shook his head, but he felt happier than any time since he’d met her. “You know, I don’t think it’s a good idea for women to have careers. I mean, look at you. You’re so wrapped up in yours, you’re knocking over wineglasses and suspecting innocent real estate salesmen of fraud. It would probably be a good thing if you got fired.”

  Dennie became dangerously still. “A good thing.”

  “Sure. What was that you were yapping about yesterday? The importance of failing. And now look at you, a failure in the making. Just what you wanted.” He beamed at her.

  “A failure. I’m a failure? I almost had it all, and you ruined it! You rat!” Dennie swung at him with her soft little purse, and Alec ducked.

  “I love a woman with spunk,” he said, and her elbow caught him by accident on the backswing, connecting solidly with his nose, which started to bleed.

  “Ouch,” he said, “Oh, hell.” He began searching his pockets for a handkerchief, trying to keep his head tilted up while the blood dripped down his shirt and mingled with the wine stains.

  “I don’t believe this.” Dennie opened her purse. “Here.” She handed him a fistful of Kleenex, and then punched the elevator button. “A million guys in this city, and I have to hit a bleeder.”

  “Anybody bleeds if you hit him on the nose,” Alec said nasally, trying to stanch the flow. “Even if he gets hit with a limp punch like yours.”

  The elevator doors opened, and she pulled him in and put her arm around his shoulders as the door closed. “Lean back. We have to stop this bleeding before you drown in it. What floor are you on?”

  He leaned back, his head against the elevator wall. “We better go to your room. Mine’s a mess.”

  “There’s no way,” she began, and then stopped. Alec tried to drop his head to see what she was up to, and she pushed his forehead back farther, jamming his head into the wall. “All right,” she said. “My room.” She punched the button for her floor.

  “You know, I never thought of you as Florence Nightingale.” He tried to straighten his head again. “You’re more the Lady Macbeth type.”

  She jammed his head back again. “I never thought of you as Pee-wee Herman, but that’s who you sound like.”

  God, she was exasperating. “If I don’t bleed to death, I may kill you.”

  “How? You get close, I’ll hit you in the nose again.”

  “I’ll wait until your guard is down.” Alec raised his head cautiously, shoving her hand away when she tried to push him back again. The bleeding had stopped.

  “My guard is never down.” She peered at him to see if he was all right, and he kissed her. When she pulled back, he held her face between his hands.

  “I need a nurse,” he said to her. “Somebody to stay with me all night and make sure I don’t bleed to death.”

  “Fat chance,” she said. “You’re disgusting.”

  The doors opened at the seventh floor.

  “We’ll talk about it,” he said. “Where’s your room? You can help clean me up.”

  “Good idea.” Dennie pushed past him to lead the way. “A little water and you’ll be cleaned off and I can throw you out.”

  “You really sound like Lady Macbeth,” he said as he followed her.

  “Yes, and look what happened to her.” Dennie shook her head. “And all because she married a monomaniac.”

  “Oh, so everything was Macbeth’s fault. Hey, she wanted it too.”

  “Wanted what?” Dennie stopped at her door and shoved in her room card.

  “All those crimes in the dark.” Alec moved beside her. “She wanted them too.”

  He grinned down at her, and she pushed him away to open the door to her room.

  “Once you’re clean, you’re gone.”

  “Absolutely,” Alec lied.

  “I think this sounds wonderful,” Victoria burbled up at Brian as they left the table. She’d only had dessert to undo Dennie’s damage, and it hadn’t been easy. Bond had been much quieter after Dennie and Alec had gone, telling Donald that perhaps the dinner table wasn’t the best place to discuss business. It’s the perfect place, Victoria wanted to say, Harry’s listening, but she backed off and entertained Brian and Donald with the most fatuous conversation she could think of, repeating everything she’d ever heard Trella say. By the time they’d stood to leave the table, both men were relaxed again. “And please don’t let little Dennie upset you. She’s very protective of us all, especially of Alec. I’m sure once you explain it again, she’ll understand.”

  “She just doesn’t understand how things work in Washington,” Donald said beside her, and Victoria felt warm toward him for the first time because he was such a bona fide twit and was therefore making her act look so much better.

  “And I just love the idea of the Prentice compound,” Victoria burbled on. “You really should talk to Alec later. Do you think you could meet him sometime?”

>   “Of course,” Bond said, but he still looked wary.

  “The bar at eleven,” Donald said automatically. “Where we met last night. What do you say?”

  I say “God bless Donald,” Victoria thought, and Bond seemed to feel the same.

  “I’ll call Alec and tell him,” Victoria promised. “Now you two go ahead and talk business. I’ll just go back to my room and call Alec.”

  “Don’t forget, we’re having dinner tomorrow to celebrate the deal,” Donald said roguishly. “Maybe we’ll have to call it the Compton-Prentice compound.”

  “You never know,” Victoria twinkled back at him, and thought, Over my dead body. There were some things she was not willing to do to fight crime, and marrying Donald topped the list.

  “This is great,” Alec told Dennie as she mopped off his face in her bathroom. “Nobody’s washed my face for me since I was ten.”

  “Who hit you when you were ten?” Dennie moved his nose cautiously back and forth.

  “Ouch! What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if it’s broken.”

  He caught her hand and pulled it away. “It’s not broken. You didn’t hit me hard enough to break it.”

  “Well, you bled like a stuck pig.”

  “Noses always bleed like that.” He stood up and took off his jacket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m covered with blood.” He unbuttoned his shirt. Really, it was logical. Anybody would take off his clothes if they were covered in blood and wine.

  Too bad he hadn’t bled on her.

  “And what do you think you’re going to change into here?” Dennie stood with her hands on her hips, looking at him with disgust, which was not the reaction he’d been hoping for. She was exasperating and infuriating and impossible, and he’d never wanted a woman more, especially now that it seemed entirely probable that she wasn’t a crook after all. He’d been feeling positively cheerful ever since she’d snarled at Bond.