Blazing Star. Suzanne Ellison

ten minutes, she banged on the door. “Lieutenant! Would you hurry up in there?”

      There was no reply. She banged again, several times, but nothing happened. Finally she gave up, until she heard the buzz of an electric razor.

      When Bauer opened the door at last and glared at her, Karen was struck at once by the realization that he was wearing nothing but a towel, casually knotted around his waist. His massive chest and biceps looked even more daunting naked than they did clothed. His legs were well muscled and hairy and compellingly male.

      “Is there some emergency that won’t wait?” he grumped, not bothering to say good-morning. One of the gouges on his face had started bleeding again, but he’d done nothing to stanch the flow. “Is there some reason I can’t get dressed in peace?”

      Karen felt a bit guilty for disturbing him, but she had her own agenda for the day. Besides, it was obvious that Brick was going to hate her no matter what she did. Why bend over backward to make him happy?

      “I have to get ready for work, Lieutenant,” she explained briskly. “I can’t twiddle my thumbs while you sing in the shower for fifteen minutes. Didn’t you hear me knocking?”

      “As a matter of fact, Captain, I did.” His blue eyes glittered with rage. “But since the house didn’t seem to be burning down, I couldn’t think of a good reason why I should cut short my shower just so you could assert your feminist authority in my bathroom.”

      “It’s our bathroom, Lieutenant, and I assure you, my motives were quite mundane. I can’t even braid my hair until I wash it this morning, let alone get dressed until I shower. I have to be at work before the day shift arrives and—”

      “And I don’t?”

      “Well, of course you do. I made it clear yesterday that punctuali—”

      “But you’re the captain. That makes your shower more important than mine?”

      “I didn’t say that, Bauer.”

      “I don’t recall what you had to say on the subject of showers, Captain. Aren’t they listed in Keppler’s revised police manual? I don’t recall receiving a memo instructing me on how many gallons of water I might use at exactly what temperature for precisely how many minutes. Silly me, I thought I’d just keep showering my old-fashioned way. But that wouldn’t work, would it? That would be one small portion of my life that you couldn’t regulate!”

      Karen was so stung by the depth of his anger that she didn’t know what to say. Maybe she had come on a little strong at the station house, but...it had been necessary. Hadn’t it?

      Unable to meet his furious glare, her gaze dropped, inadvertently focusing once more on the towel wrapped around his waist. Determined not to think about what lay beneath it, she concentrated on what she saw—that broad, virile chest, still sprinkled with drops of water from the shower. She was at war with this man. Why the hell did he have to have a physique that was so damned impressive? Thank God he was too angry to smile at her! She still remembered that radiant smile she’d only seen once—tempting, playful, unbearably appealing.

      For a moment Karen was so engrossed with the sight of Brick’s magnificent body that she almost forgot they were having a fight. But she remembered as soon as she met his glowering eyes again.

      Uncomfortably she told him, “Just let me know when you’re through, Lieutenant. Maybe tomorrow we can divvy up the time. I can get ready, say, from six to six-thirty, and then it’ll be all yours.”

      “You work up a plan and send me a memo,” he answered sarcastically. “And be sure to specify how many minutes I should spend shaving as opposed to brushing my teeth.”

      This time his razored tone really did hurt, but Karen wasn’t about to let him know it. “You decide what’s best for you and let me know,” she acquiesced, surprised when her voice came out pinched and low. She hadn’t yet put her armor on for the day, and it was hard to sound tough and haughty when she felt so alone.

      “Ah, a compromise.” His eyes narrowed; suspicion laced his deep tone. “Coming from you, more likely a trap.”

      “It’s a straightforward offer!” Karen burst out. “Damn you, Bauer, are you paranoid? Or just searching for more reasons to hate me? Don’t you have enough of them already?”

      “I’m not the one who rode into town with my pistols cocked, Captain! I’m not the one who’s determined to gun everybody down!”

      “Lieutenant, I’m just doing my job,” she insisted, torn between sounding tough as iron and begging him to give her a fair trial. “I’m trying to clean up an administrative mess. If there are a few emotional casualties—”

      “A few? Open your eyes, Captain! There’s not one person at our substation whom you failed to offend yesterday! How can you believe that’s a requirement of your position? How can you be proud of that?”

      Karen wasn’t proud of it; she wished she could have handled things more diplomatically. She especially regretted the way she’d shredded chubby Orson Clayton and tongue-lashed Cindy Lou. But she didn’t dare admit that to Bruiser Bauer.

      “Lieutenant, it is not easy for a woman in my position to earn the personal regard or loyalty of her men,” she confessed reluctantly, forcing herself to meet his steely gaze. “It may never happen here. But I can and will demand a display of respect for my position. You know perfectly well that if I don’t crush any hint of rebellion in these first crucial days, I’ll never be able to do this job.”

      Brick looked puzzled by something she’d said...or maybe by the fact that she was still talking to him at all. He reached down to tighten his blue-and-gold towel—it was starting to slip—as he said slowly, “Captain, I think you can consider the staff sufficiently crushed. One or two of them may be pulverized.”

      Karen wanted to ask, How about you? but before she could speak, he turned away. She drew in a sharp breath as she gazed at his broad, bare back, purpled with bruises from his encounter with the gate. God, that must hurt! she realized painfully. And I barely even apologized.

      Suddenly Karen knew she couldn’t let their discussion end like this. They had to smoke a peace pipe, or neither one of them would last another day.

      “Lieutenant?”

      He stopped, but he did not turn around. His towel was hanging dangerously low again.

      “I’m sorry things have started out so badly between us,” Karen said sincerely. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

      Now he did turn to face her, one hand lazily gripping the intersection of the terry-cloth tails. “What would you do over, Captain? Our spectacular greeting, when you embarrassed me in front of the whole damn town? Or yesterday morning, when you could hardly wait for me to step foot in the station house before you dressed me down in front of the men?” When he took a rough step toward her, Karen had to steel herself to keep from retreating. “Or would you like to replay this charming scene, when you barged into my shower and started giving me orders about my personal grooming?”

      Karen swallowed hard, but she stood her ground. “I won’t deny that I’ve been rough on you, Lieutenant, but let’s be fair. We share the responsibility for this impasse. You know damn well that if I’d ridden into town as sweet as sunshine, you’d still be gunning for me.”

      His square jaw jutted out. “You stole my job, damn you.” His voice was hard and low.

      Karen straightened. This was the heart of the problem. She knew she had to meet his accusation head-on. The best defence was the truth—at least as much of it as she was at liberty to share with him. “I got this job fair and square, Lieutenant. I didn’t even know there was a Tyler man who expected to get this position until after I’d accepted it. I felt a twinge of regret for your misfortune, but not enough to toss away my own career.” She met his eyes boldly. “In my position, what would you have done?”

      Brick