Needing Nita (5 page)

Ray smiled. “Well, there you go, then.”

Chapter 6

Nita managed to stave off facing Brad until mid-afternoon, since he’d been tied up in court all morning and she’d had a client in her office when he got back. Shortly after 3:00 pm, though, she heard the chair in his office squeak. Dragging closer the file she’d been working on so half-heartedly for the past half hour, she buried her nose in it.
Busy Nita
.
Too busy for idle office chatter.

“She lives.”

Nita groaned inwardly. She hadn’t really expected her show of busy-ness to deter her partner, but it was worth a try.
“She lives?”
She sat back, tossing her pen on the table. “I guess I must be awfully routine-bound if you write me off as dead the first time I come in an hour late.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, sweetie.” He moved into her office and settled in her leather client chair. “You look tired. In a nice way, of course.”

“Of course.”

His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess you were up all night having wild monkey sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. Because that’s so me,” she said, but she felt the telltale heat of a flush rising in her cheeks.
Don’t notice, don’t notice, don’t notice
.

He noticed.

“Good God! You
did
have wild monkey sex! It’s written all over your face. And frankly, on the left side of your neck, now that I look at you.”

“It is not!” She lifted a horrified hand to her throat. “Is it?”

He laughed. “No, but now I know for sure what I only suspected before.” He leaned back smugly. “And may I add, about time.”

She covered her face with both hands and groaned. “God, I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“Me either. I mean, you
taught
me that little trick.”

“Don’t remind me.” She picked up the pen she’d tossed down in resignation a moment earlier. “Now that you’ve ferreted out the dirty truth, get the hell out of my office, Knopfler. I’ve got work to do.”

“Knock, knock.”

Nita glanced up to see Maryanne, the firm’s receptionist, framed in her doorway. Thank goodness. This would send Brad on his way. “What’s up, Maryanne?”

“There’s a Detective Craig Walker here to see you.”

“What?”
She jumped up from her chair, sending it backwards on its casters. “Did you tell him I’m here?”

“Omigod!” Brad said.

Maryanne frowned, sending Brad one of her patented disapproving looks that she seemed to reserve for him. “Of course I told him you were here. Why wouldn’t I?” She turned back to Nita. “Are you on the lam or something? Dodging a summons?”

“It’s him!” Brad said, oblivious of Maryanne’s evil eye. “You had monkey sex with Detective Walker!”

Maryanne’s eyes widened. “Nita?”

Nita sank back onto her chair. “Someone shoot me, please.”

“Sorry,” Brad quipped. “No sidearm. But if you ask the detective nicely….”

She sighed. “Okay, both of you —
out
. Now. And Maryanne, please show Detective Walker in.”

“Not necessary.” The voice was Craig Walker’s, and it came from her open door. “I showed myself in. I was beginning to get concerned you might rabbit on me.”

Oh, God, had he heard all of that? She lifted her chin, aiming for dignity. “
Rabbit?
Is that your usual experience with a woman on the morning after, Detective?”

“Only with you.” He glanced pointedly at the other occupants of the room.

Maryanne cleared her throat. “Well, then, I’ll just get back to my post.” Eyes wide, she sidled past Craig.

“And I’ll just go next door to my office and press a drinking glass to the wall.”

“Bradley!”

“What? I’m just making a point.”

“Okay, point taken. We’ll take this outside the office.” She turned to Craig. “Detective.”

He stepped back. “After you.”

“My car or yours?” he asked when they reached the parking lot.

His, she deduced, was a slightly muscular looking but spacious Ford Taurus. Hers was a tiny hybrid. They’d be in each other’s laps in her car. “Yours.”

He led the way to his car, opening the door for her. She slipped inside and waited for him to join her.

“Look, Craig,” she said, as soon as he’d slipped behind the wheel. “I’m really sorry about this morning. I guess I was a little stunned when Dr. Woodbridge dropped his bombshell. His
second
bombshell.”

“So am I. Sorry about this morning, I mean. I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. But before we go there, I gotta ask — what’s with telling everyone back there? I thought you were worried about keeping the whole thing under wraps.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair. “I didn’t exactly tell anyone. Brad figured it out. I mean, not that I’d spent the night with
you
, specifically, but that I’d spent a long night with someone. Then Maryanne came in at that exact moment and announced that you were here to see me. I guess I freaked a little, and Brad put two and two together.”

His mouth tightened. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have come here to your office if I’d thought it would cause you further embarrassment.”

She grimaced. “I’m not embarrassed. Well, sort of, but just because I’m not accustomed to my sex life coming up for discussion at the office. It’s more—”

“You were afraid it would get around,” he finished for her. “That I’d brag to the guys at the cop shop and you’d lose credibility. That ultimately, it would adversely affect your ability to defend your clients.” He turned away to look straight ahead out the windscreen. “I understand. Hell, I can’t even work up any righteous indignation anymore. Because to be honest, if I were ten years younger and stupider, I probably
would
have shot my mouth off first chance I got. But I haven’t and I won’t. But none of that alters the fact that I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”

“Don’t apologize.” She looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “You were right. I wouldn’t have called you if I hadn’t thought I was dying. That’s the bald truth of it. You have every right to be angry.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “But that’s only half the reason I was angry.”

She shot a look at him, but he was still facing forward. “And the other reason?”

He turned to face her, his blue eyes fiercely intent. “I was mad because I let my mind go down that road. I let myself imagine how I’d feel if you really
did
have a brain tumor, if you really were dying. How it would feel to lose you so quickly after you made me love you.”

Adrenaline ripped through her nervous system, terminating in an almost painful jolt in her fingertips, like a bolt of electricity.
“What?”

He carried on, as though he hadn’t heard her.

“Christ, I felt like I’d stepped out onto a fucking ledge at twenty stories, and everything was whirling underneath me. I lashed out. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Love me!” God, what possessed him to say
that
? “Craig, we don’t even know one another.”

“I’d say we know each other better than some couples ever do.”

She blushed. “That was sex.”

His eyes glinted. “It sure as hell was. But sex like that … Nita, that doesn’t just happen between strangers. And I’ve had enough sex with beautiful strangers over the past fifteen years to know the difference. It takes a certain level of trust. It takes an intuitive knowledge of the other.”

“That’s crazy! We hadn’t even had a date prior to jumping in bed.”

“What have we doing the past three years but getting to know each other? We’ve been measuring each other over these cases. Searching for each other’s weaknesses, admiring strengths.”

“But I do that with everyone I put on the stand.”

“Yeah, but you don’t look at anyone else the way you look at me. You don’t think about anyone else the way you think about me. And thank God, you didn’t call anyone else when you thought you were dying and needed to grab at life. You called me, dammit. Me.”

Nita did the only thing she could do. She burst into tears.

Chapter 7

Craig’s heart contracted as he watched the tears slide soundlessly down her cheeks.

“Christ, I’m sorry, Nita. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m just tired,” she said.

Shit. Of course she was tired. “Let me take you home.”

“I really should go back in there.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she pulled out of her jacket pocket.

“No one will expect you back today. Besides, I can’t have you go in there looking like you went three rounds with a bully. Knopfler would kick my ass.”

She snorted. “Yeah, like that could happen.”

“Let me take you home,” he pressed. “I won’t even stay if you don’t want me to. You need to catch up on your sleep.”

She pulled down the sun visor on her side of the car and checked out her reflection. “Ugh.” She flipped the visor back into place. “Okay, take me home.”

Before she could change her mind, he started the car and eased out of the parking lot. They didn’t speak for the ten-minute trip downtown. Craig eased the car to the curb in front of her brownstone.

“Thank you,” she said.

Before he could stop it, the question was out: “Can I come in?”

She gazed at him with eyes that still glistened more than they should.

“I’m not looking for sex,” he said quickly. “I just want to make you dinner while you shower and make sure you go to bed as soon as you’ve eaten.”

Her eyes widened. “You want to
mother
me?”

Jesus, she was beautiful, puffy eyes, blotchy face and all. “I want to take care of you. If you get fed up with me, you can tell me to leave and I’ll go. You have my word on that.”

He saw the struggle plainly on her face. The disciplined career woman in her was clearly telling her to send him on his way. The practical, safe side of her personality was no doubt advising her similarly. But the courageously passionate woman she’d showed him last night prevailed.

“Can you make macaroni and cheese?”

Ah, the ultimate comfort food. “The cheesiest.”

“Okay, come on up.”

Once inside, he told her to take her time, since the mac and cheese would take an hour from scratch, and she did. Clearly, she’d put the time to good use. When she finally showed herself in the kitchen again, her face bore no evidence of her earlier tears. And this despite the fact she wore no makeup. Or at least, nothing he could discern.

“You look great,” he said, pulling out a chair for her at one of the places he’d set at the granite-topped island. He’d thought about setting the dining room table and lighting some low candles, but figured that would smack of romance and seduction, which would only put her on the defensive. What he had in mind tonight was a seduction of an entirely different kind. And the warm kitchen was just the spot for it.

“I made tea,” he said.

“Really?” He gaze flew to the counter where her teapot sat. “Herbal or black?”

“Some herbal stuff I found. Since the objective is to pack you off to sleep, I didn’t figure you needed the caffeine. But I can make black tea if you’d like….”

“No, that’s perfect.”

“Why don’t you pour for both of us, then, while I get supper out of the oven.”

While she poured the tea, he removed the bubbling macaroni from the oven and dished up two servings.

She wasted no time tasting hers. “Oh, God, this is heavenly! I can’t remember the last time I made this from scratch. I usually resort to the boxed stuff for my fix.”

“Me, too, but once in a while I like to make the real thing. When I left for college, I made my mother teach me how to make it so I could feel a little bit closer to home.”

She took the bait. “College, huh? Where’d you go, and what did you study.”

An hour later, they’d both had seconds of both macaroni and tea. And they each knew a lot more about the other than they had when they’d sat down.

When he caught Nita yawning, he apologized. “God, look at me keeping you up. You should be in bed already. I’ll just stick these dishes in the dishwasher and take off so you can lock up after me.”