An Irresistible Man

by Kylie Brant

  “Andersen spilled all. I’m sure he’s working on some kind of plea bargain. Once his attorney convinced him that we had him cold, he changed his tune. His uncle, the owner of Andersen Steel, apparently knew nothing of his side income. The old man’s really taking it hard.”

  He stopped then and studied her. She stood motionless, hadn’t moved since she let him in. He frowned in concern. She hadn’t been frequenting any of the grease pits she favored, that was apparent. She obviously hadn’t been thinking of food at all. Or eating it.

  He continued, “Stephen Andersen had worked his way into his uncle’s company over the years, but he was always impatient to be the one fully in charge. His uncle wasn’t going to hand over the reins-or all the money-soon enough for his liking. So apparently he came up with this gun supply deal to supplement his income. We’re still working on his supplier in Europe. Have you heard anything else on Baker?”

  She nodded. “Apparently he was one of the detectives being investigated. But the Internal Affairs detective who’d been assigned to Baker hadn’t been able to get a thing on him. There didn’t seem to be a second source of income, and he was never trailed to the same spot. The investigation was ongoing.”

  “Oh, there’s money somewhere, all right,” Cruz said. “At least, according to Andersen. They had a real sweet deal going. The money Baker was paid was placed in Andersen Steel’s credit union, under a fictitious employee’s name. Baler has been playing it safe. Either he was saving it for a very golden retirement, or he was planning an extended trip out of the country. What he wasn’t doing was spending it and leaving a trail.”

  “Baker must have been the link to Valdez,” Madeline said.

  “That’s what I found when I did some checking,” Cruz agreed. “Baker was the arresting officer the last time Valdez got sent away. And Baker and Andersen go way back. Baker used to moonlight as a security guard for Andersen Steel. He was in a position to know just who to pick to help them in this, someone from the streets who had experience with guns and a reputation that commanded enough respect that no one would talk about him.”

  “I’d wondered why no one on the streets would be willing to give up a cop,” Madeline said. “I figured whoever the involved detective was, he was buried so deep that few people knew about him. And one who found out didn’t live long after telling about it.” At Cruz’s quizzical look she told him about the snitch who’d been killed.

  He looked grim at the news. “Sounds like Baker’s handiwork to me.”

  “Possibly,” she said. “And we’ve already heard that Valdez was the one who shot Stover.”

  “That’s the story Andersen is still telling, although Valdez hasn’t admitted to it.” Cruz drummed his fingers restlessly on the wall behind him. “Well, that’s all the loose ends, then. I thought they’d be driving you crazy.”

  She’d been driven crazy, all right, but these loose ends had had very little to do with it. When she realized he was waiting for an answer, she said, “Thanks for coming by and filling me in.”

  “Yeah.” He fell silent then, training his intense dark gaze on her. He made no move toward the door.

  Finally he said, “Look, I’ve been thinking. And I guess I can understand how you felt when this whole thing got started. I was just another assignment for you.”

  “Yes, you were an assignment,” she answered, her eyes never swerving from his. “And then you very quickly became more. I found that difficult to accept. I didn’t want to believe you were involved in the gun supply, but I was scared to trust my judgment about you. I’d made a rather costly mistake about a man once before, and I was afraid it was happening again.”

  Her voice dropped. “But I couldn’t control it. You became too important to me, and I lost my objectivity.” At his continued silence she asked him, a little desperately, “What would you have done, Cruz? If our situations had been reversed?”

  It was the same question Connor had asked him when he’d talked to him over a few beers, and the same question that had plagued Cruz every hour since. “Probably the same thing,” he admitted for the first time. His gaze was steady. “But you could have told me at the end, Maddy. You should have told me.”

  Her throat grew tight. “I would have. But I had stretched my code of ethics about as far as I could by believing in you, even though I hadn’t really cleared you in the eyes of the department. I couldn’t allow myself to put the investigation in jeopardy.”

  “Your father took care of that little task for you.”

  “My father,” she said, her voice suddenly harsh, “completely abused his position with the city in doing so. He acted out of spite and, believe me, he isn’t going to get away with it this time.” She’d accept the next phone call from him, certain there would be a next one. Then she’d make it very clear just how far over the line he’d gone this time. If she went to Brewer and told him how her father had used the information someone had leaked him about the case, she was sure the repercussions would be very ugly, indeed. Councilman Casey was going to be able to keep his job only if Madeline kept quiet about what he’d done. And the price for her silence was going to be his absence from her life from now on. Her mouth twisted. Somehow she was certain that when it came down to protecting his career or giving up a relationship with his daughter, she would come in a very distant second. And that was fine with her.

  Cruz studied her. From the look of the suppressed fury in her face, Casey was going to be one sorry old man when Maddy finished with him. Cruz didn’t waste any sympathy on him, though. Whatever the man got, he had coming, in spades.

  “I didn’t like knowing that I’d been under suspicion,” he said bluntly. “Who would? And Internal Affairs doesn’t have a real winning track record in my book. The combination of the two was enough to send me ballistic when your father told me what was going on.”

  She flinched a little, but then recovered. “I know.”

  “And the fact that it was you doing the investigation, well…” He shrugged. “That made it worse.”

  Madeline nodded. She’d had firsthand experience being the target of an investigation. She knew what that felt like. But she’d at least known it was going on. She’d had a chance to present her own account of what had happened.

  “One thing, though, still bothers me,” he continued. He crossed his booted feet deliberately. “Maybe you can help me with this. Over the course of this case I’ve gotten to know you, Maddy. I know you’re a good cop, that you’re almost fanatical about doing your job professionally. And I think I know a lot about you as a person, too. Enough to be sure that you wouldn’t sleep with a man just to further a case along.”

  Hope unfurled within her. “That’s not what you thought a few days ago,” she reminded him shakily.

  “But I’ve had time to think about it now,” he said. “And I think you would have had to believe in me, at least a little. So how about it, Maddy?” His intent dark eyes snared her own.

  “If I hadn’t trusted you already,” she affirmed softly, “at least subconsciously, that first night in your apartment would never have happened. And feeling that level of trust, when I had no real proof of your innocence, was a frightening experience for someone who had kept her instincts in cold storage for the last few years.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly, “that’s what I thought.” He pushed away from the wall and walked toward her. “You said you loved me,” he reminded her. “That day in Connor’s office. Did you mean it?” His hands grasped her elbows, and drew her slowly, inexorably closer to him.

  Her pulse quickened with a tiny flicker of hope. “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise,” she affirmed unsteadily. Tipping her head back to look up into his face, she continued bravely, “I hadn’t exactly picked that time to tell you. It just sort of slipped out.”

  “That’s okay,” he reassured her. “I’ll give you another chance. As a matter of fact, I’m going to give you lots of chances to repeat that again. Because I love you, too, Maddy. And since I
’m kind of an old-fashioned guy I want to do this right.” He dropped to one knee quickly, pulling her with him to settle her on the other. Her hands clasped around his neck. “How do you feel about being married to a detective-slash-restaurant owner?”

  The feeling of impending doom that had enveloped her for the past few days was lifting, and Madeline felt almost giddy at the change. “Restaurant owner?” she repeated, pretending to be mystified. “Whatever do you mean?”

  He nipped her earlobe. “Brat. I know you must have found out about my partnership with Dan Chambers during the investigation.”

  “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  “Not exactly. Although I figured I could do without a bunch of cops asking me to do my impression of Julia Child at district headquarters.”

  She chuckled, picturing it. “Well, I think I can handle being married to a detective with your hidden talents. Your secret is safe with me. As a matter of fact, I’m even willing to hand over all the cooking duties to you.”

  He smiled that wicked, sinful smile of his and whispered suggestively, “Oh, I think you’ll discover that cooking is just one of my many hidden talents.”

  She laughed again and then gasped when his teeth found the delicate cord at her throat.

  “How’s Maddy Martinez sound to you?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Like a mixed drink.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he assured her, pressing a necklace of kisses at her throat. “And about those kids I was talking about in the hallway the first time I came to see you? I was exaggerating. Five will be plenty for me.”

  She caught his face in her hands and brought it up to meet hers. “Okay, Martinez,” she whispered. “Let’s negotiate.”

  Epilogue

  Cruz and Connor sat on the McLains’ minuscule patio, sipping contentedly from their beers.

  “How much longer do you think it will be before Maddy and Michele get back from shopping?” Connor inquired lazily, lifting his bottle to squint through its colored glass at the sun.

  Cruz lifted one arm to check his watch. “They’ve only been gone six hours. Knowing my mother, they’ll be back in another three hours or so.”

  Connor chuckled. “I feel kind of sorry for Maddy, you siccing your family on her like that. She probably didn’t know what hit her.”

  Cruz grinned. “She’ll make me pay, that’s for sure. Her idea of shopping for a wedding dress is a few planned fittings in a carefully selected shop, not being dragged through every store in the Philadelphia area.”

  “Michele doesn’t especially like to power-shop, either. Although she has been taking me through a lot of stores looking at nursery furniture lately.”

  His aggrieved tone didn’t fool his friend. Ever since he’d learned of Michele’s pregnancy Connor had been every inch the proud father. Michele had laughingly confided to Cruz that Connor’s spending on their shopping sprees was threatening any chance of starting a college fund for Baby McLain. Already the nursery was full of stuffed animals, sports equipment and ballet shoes.

  “So, tell me.” Connor interrupted his thoughts. “How long before you and Maddy join Michele and me in parental bliss?”

  Cruz raised his eyebrows. “Slow down, buddy. Let us get married first. And then let us enjoy our honeymoon. And then,” he added, his tone growing wicked, “give us a chance to enjoy each other.”

  “Ah, the blush of true love,” gibed Connor. “I’d recognize it anywhere. Tell me, how is it that a fantastic woman like Madeline Casey wound up with a bum like you?”

  “I don’t know,” Cruz retorted, “it must be something in the Philadelphia water. After all, Michele ended up with you.”

  Connor raised his beer bottle high, and Cruz followed. “Well, here’s to the tap water of Philadelphia, and to the Philly women who love us so.” Bottles clinked and they each drank. A moment later the front door slammed. Not getting up, Cruz and Connor looked at each other quizzically. A moment later Madeline was on the patio, stalking toward her fiancé.

  “Cruz Martinez,” she purred lethally, “I am going to kill you.”

  Despite her dangerous tone, the two men laughed. Cruz put down his beer and pulled her down on top of him. Once he had her on his lap, he nuzzled her neck. “Did you find a dress, honey?”

  Not fooled by his innocent tone, she retorted, “Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, we found three hundred sixty-one dresses, but your mom only made me try on two hundred of them. And just when I would think things couldn’t get any worse, your sisters would pull out another one.” She buried her face against his shoulder. “I’ll tell you, guys, that’s my idea of hell. Standing practically naked in a dressing room with a lady with pins in her mouth and ice-cold hands, and your sisters slinging me more gowns to try on throughout eternity.”

  Their laughter wasn’t the least bit sympathetic.

  “Michele was the one who masterminded our escape. She pretended to have contractions.”

  The humor abruptly left Connor’s face. “Contractions?” he croaked. He literally sprang from his chair and sprinted into the house to find his wife, ignoring the explanation Madeline tried to call after him.

  “Sounds like you had a fun-filled day with that horrible family, the Martinezes.”

  “Oh, they were sweet,” Madeline said with a sigh, “but my feet ache. My shoulder hurts from my purse, and I think I have pinpricks all over me.”

  Cruz slipped off her shoes and rubbed the arches of her feet. “Better?” he crooned.

  “Mmm.” She sighed again. “Just tell me that I never have to do this again.”

  “You never have to do this again,” he repeated obediently. Alter a second he added, “Until, of course, it’s time to shop for your trousseau.” He laughed at her moan.

  “You’ll pay for putting me through this today, Martinez. Big time.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he asked, interest alight in his eyes. “What sort of time are we talking here?”

  She rubbed noses with him. “For a crime like this? I’ll have to throw the book at you. I’m thinking eighty, ninety years, at least.”

  “With you?”

  Her lips met his. “Definitely with me.”

  “Then I say-” his lips moved against hers as he spoke “-go ahead and book me, Maddy.”

  Kylie Brant

  ***

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