Heat Of The Night. Donna Kauffman

is it, exactly, that you do?”

      “I’m a consultant. People hire me for all kinds of reasons. Self-promotion, business promotion, media liaison—”

      “Ah. A spin doctor.”

      Her smooth expression didn’t falter. “In this case, it’s my job to make sure said media doesn’t turn this thing with Sanderson into some kind of salacious, kinky-sex droolathon.” At his look of disbelief, she amended, “Okay, more than they already have.” She lifted a hand. “I’m not here to make your life difficult.”

      Now he had to laugh. “At no time in our mutual past history have you done anything but make my life as difficult as possible. The only change I see now is that you’re getting paid to do it.” He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Nice work if you can get it.”

      “It is nice work,” she retorted with a smile. “And I get paid quite well, thank you.” She shifted in her seat and he worked damn hard to keep his gaze squarely on her face. “And because I get paid quite well, I take that job very seriously,” she went on. “I won’t be a disruption as long as you keep an open line of communication with me. All you have to do is report to me everything you discover, as you discover it, so I can prepare all public statements that come from both this precinct and the mayor’s office. No one is to talk to any member of the press unless they clear it with me first.”

      “Says who?”

      “Says me. With the mayor’s blessing, of course.”

      “Well, you’ll have to talk with the commissioner.”

      “I believe the mayor has already done that.”

      Brady swore under his breath. Commissioner Douglas had been appointed by Henley, and with the mayor up for reelection, that meant Douglas had become his number-one patsy. To hell with what was right or wrong, it was all about job security now.

      “Consider me your liaison.” She recrossed her legs. “If you think about it, O’Keefe, I’m actually here to make your life easier. You won’t have to deal with the press at all. You’ll only have to deal with me.”

      Brady simply stared at her. She was truly amazing. And insane if she thought he was going to go along with this plan like a good little boy. “I never thought I could be given a set of choices that would make me think dealing directly with the press was the preferable option.”

      Nothing seemed to faze her. Her smile was honest and direct. “Don’t make it sound so bad, Detective. I’m sure we’ll make this work with a minimum of fuss.”

      “You are truly an optimist then.” He shoved back his chair and stood.

      For the first time, she looked a bit off balance. Good. He’d have to remember how he did that. He had a feeling he’d need to use it. Repeatedly.

      “Wait a minute, I need to go over your reports so far.” There was a touch of nervousness in her voice now as she watched him clear his desk.

      “I need to go home and get some sleep.” He scooped up the case files and piled them into a side drawer, then locked it. He dropped the keys in his shirt pocket, pausing by her chair as he rounded the desk. “And if you plan to accompany me to bed in hopes I talk in my sleep, I’ll save you the effort.”

      “But—”

      “Good night, Ms. Mahoney. Tell Mayor Henley that I’ll file my report with my captain as soon as I’m ready. Until then, he can contact Commissioner Douglas if he has any questions about the investigation.” Brady decided he’d rather deal with them directly than go through her anyway. And he was certain that confrontation would come sooner rather than later. But it wasn’t right now, and that was all he cared about at the moment.

      He lifted a finger when she opened her mouth to speak. “As for the press, don’t worry. As a rule, I don’t talk to anyone about any of my cases. Ever.” His pointed look at her was clearly understood.

      He was halfway across the room when he realized she wasn’t dogging his heels as he’d expected. At no time had Terror Mahoney ever given up easily. So he stopped and turned back. His grin widened. She didn’t disappoint. She was looking at the tag board where the officers hung keys to the squad cars when not in use, only she wouldn’t know what those keys were for.

      “Mahoney,” he called out, causing her to swing around. He had to give it to her, she managed to look totally innocent. About as innocent as a barracuda in a school of guppies, he thought, but there was no resentment in it. Quite the opposite actually. But then, he was no guppy. He patted his pocket. “I’ve got the only set.” He saluted her. “Good night.”

      With a rueful smile, she saluted him back.

      He left the squad room feeling her eyes on his back. All up and down his back for that matter. His neck grew red, but he found himself smiling as he walked out to his car.

      2

      ERIN MAHONEY WATCHED with more than a little appreciation as Brady O’Keefe strolled across the street toward city hall. He looked good. Better than good, she amended as he drew closer, noticing he’d shaved.

      Until he’d walked through that door last night, she’d had no idea Brady worked for the police department. In fact, she hadn’t even thought of him in years. But the surprise had been a pleasant one. She was fairly certain Brady did not share that sentiment.

      Of course, thinking back, he had every reason to be wary. She’d been a real handful as a child. She’d come from a large family, middle child of seven, so her parents hadn’t paid strict attention to her. Heck, they’d hardly paid any attention to her. Which had suited her fine at the time. She’d gotten plenty of attention—both wanted and unwanted—from her six brothers. And she’d managed to grow up and be a responsible adult despite it all.

      She supposed she should have known Brady would end up a detective. He came from a long line of cops. She knew his dad and granddad had been on the Philly force, as had an uncle. She thought again about the meeting she’d just left with the mayor and commissioner—the latter, still in bed with the flu, attending by phone conference. They’d sung Brady’s praises to the moon, regaling her with stories of the amazing feats of detective work that had led him to be one of the top-ranked detectives on the force. Pretty impressive for someone who’d just hit thirty.

      They’d also made it clear, though she’d already come to the same conclusion, that he wouldn’t take lightly to their plan. However, they hadn’t backed down on it either. A lot was riding on making this situation go away quickly and quietly. They told her they expected her to live up to her own not-so-humble reputation and get the job done. Whatever it took.

      And she’d decided what it took was for her and Brady to have a meeting when both of them were rested and thinking clearly. Hence her planned ambush on the steps today.

      She watched as he dodged a turning car and rounded the back of a double-parked taxi. Good reflexes. For a scrawny kid, he’d sure…filled out. So much for thinking clearly, she thought with a laugh. But the man did make her hormones jump, there was no denying that. Of course, she was pretty sure that wasn’t one-sided. Not that she’d ever condoned using sex as a means to get the job done. Well, not directly anyway. Sex and sexuality were two distinctly different things. She never used the former, but she was acutely aware how to effectively use the latter.

      Women had few enough weapons in the high-stakes world of career-building. She was a firm believer in using every one she had to its fullest potential.

      The mayor had said “whatever it takes,” she mused, still watching him approach…and found the hard line she drew between sexuality and sex blurring just a teensy bit.

      “Good morning.”

      He looked more resigned than surprised to see her. “Morning,” he said. “I’m withholding judgment on the good part.”

      “I