It was now alarmingly clear to her just how powerful those rods were and how much damage they could cause in the wrong hands. Which was probably why she was a bit ruthless in her "interrogation" of the mayor. Backed with the assurance that he probably wouldn't remember her and certainly not what they talked about, there was no need for dancing around a subject or leading into it.

Directly, she asked Sullivan if he'd noticed an influx of foreigners in their town, if he had made any recent policy changes, if there were any differences in his routines that he'd found strange for any reason. She covered every subject she could think of, and a few others that Dalden thought to mention.

By the time they left him, it was pretty obvious that Jorran's people had started tampering with Sullivan, though not to any alarming extent yet. Yes, he knew Jorran. They were best friends. No, he couldn't recall where they'd met; no, he had no idea what Jorran looked like and didn't find that strange. He'd apparently been prepped for a meeting between them soon, but it hadn't actually happened yet.

But Dalden put a monkey wrench in Jorran's immediate plans by leaving Sullivan with some opposing facts, including that Jorran was his enemy and to be avoided at all costs. It was a temporary measure and could be got around with new suggestions. But it should buy them a little time, which hopefully was all they needed.

"Jorran will want the entire building neutralized before he involves himself, to minimize his own risk," Martha explained when they were out in the hall again. "But that could already have been done."

"Then where does that leave us?"

"Sticking around to make sure we spot him before he gets near the mayor. And continuing to pick up his men and send them to me."

Brittany assumed that the fellow they had found earlier had been put in a taxi, since Dalden had returned so quickly without him, and while under the influence of the rod he would go exactly where he was told. Which had to be to Martha. But that meant Martha had to be close by.

"How about having dinner with us tonight, Martha?" Laughter greeted that suggestion, which had Brittany demanding, "Now why is that amusing?"

Martha wasn't going to answer her, if the prolonged silence was any indication, so Dalden did. "She does not eat."

"What he means is, I don't socialize," Martha put in now, exasperation clear. "But you know how that is, don't cha, doll. Never enough time to see to all that needs seeing to, etcetera, etcetera."

Brittany sighed. "Yes, indeed. Perhaps, then, when this is over?"

"No," Martha replied curtly.

"Yes," Dalden countered, and Brittany's face was lifted in his hand, his eyes consuming her. "When this is over, kerima, I will take you home with me. It will mean leaving all that is known to you behind. But in return, I give to you my life, yours to keep until the day I die."

"You call that asking?" came Martha's complaint in bitter tones.

Dalden's smile was brilliant, unrepentant. "It was decided when she slept in my arms without fear."

IT WAS DECIDED? "WHAT WAS DECIDED?"

Brittany was asking Dalden to explain his cryptic remark, but it was Martha who answered in derisive tones, "The big guy just joined you at the hip. He was supposed to ask your permission first, said he understood that's how it's done around here, but he arbitrarily went ahead and did it his way rather than yours."

"Did what? I still don't get it."

"Does shackled ring a bell? Ball and chain? Hooked up? No? How about married?"

Brittany started chuckling. "Get real. It takes more than a few words to perform a marriage."

"Wanna bet?"

Brittany stared at Dalden, but he wasn't laughing. He was looking back at her as if he'd just bought her and was quite pleased with the purchase price. She started to get annoyed.

She'd tried to go along with their joke and treat it as such, but it wasn't the least bit amusing when her feelings for this man were so new and fragile. She couldn't deny that the thought of being able to keep him was thrilling, but it was also unrealistic. For crying out loud, she'd just met him yesterday and still knew next to nothing about him. So for him to want to, or even think about, marrying her at this stage was so far-fetched, it was beyond imagining.

"Okay, chuckle-time is over," she said tersely, making no attempt to hide her annoyance. "Shall we get back to business, or do we go off on a honeymoon first?"

For an answer, Dalden took her hand and started to drag her out of the building. She heard Martha's alarmed voice from some distance away, since there was over six feet of stretched arms between them now.

"Stop right there, warrior. She was kidding! She didn't mean it. And you are not going to run off and have some fun now just because you gave yourself permission to do so-not when Jorran could walk in here at any moment."

Dalden stopped. He looked utterly chagrined until his gaze fell on Brittany, then he just looked inflamed. She caught her breath. Dalden in the throes of passion was an incredible turn-on. And he must have sensed that she felt so, because he closed the space between them, clasped her face in both hands, and kissed her right there in the center of City Hall.

Nothing like being taken out of mind and place. They could have been up on a cloud for all she knew, she was so consumed with him and nothing but him. But it wasn't Martha's voice that brought her jarringly back to earth this time, it was one she could have wished to never hear again.

"Into exhibitionism these days, Britt?"

It was absolutely the worst interruption Brittany could think of. Thomas Johnson, ex-boyfriend, the one guy she'd actually thought about marrying-and having sex with-because she'd mistakenly thought there was more between them than there was. They hadn't exactly parted amicably, after she'd kicked him out of her apartment that night and told him to drop dead on the way out. It was a small town and she'd known they would run into each other eventually, but she'd managed to avoid doing so up till now.

"Still breathing, Tom?" she said, hoping he'd take the hint and just leave. "What a shame."

"Aren't we bitchy these days."

She smiled tightly. "Only around you."

He chuckled, though it was forced. They both knew she wasn't kidding around, that her animosity was quite real. She'd invested three months of emotions in this guy. Then for him to admit he had a problem with her height after all that time, even though she was a good half a foot shorter than him. Not short enough for him to feel like a giant, apparently, which had to be what he was looking for.

Dressed in a well-tailored pinstriped business suit today, Thomas made her feel tacky in her blue jeans, white T-shirt, and sneakers, which she'd felt adequate for playing the tourist in City Hall. Come to think of it, though, he'd always made her feel inferior in one way or another. Blue eyes, wavy black hair, sexy, extremely handsome-at least she'd thought so until she met Dalden.

"I tried to call you a number of times," Thomas informed her, like she might actually believe it when he knew her schedule, knew exactly when he could find her at home to receive any calls.

She let that pass, though, and attacked his motive instead. "Whatever for? Wasn't I clear enough that I didn't want to see you again?"

"Because you misunderstood that remark I made about your height. I wanted to explain."

"Oh, really? So you don't really think I'm too tall for you?"

"Well, for anything permanent, yes, but not for-"

"Get lost," she cut in, feeling some of the same acute embarrassment she'd felt that night. "I swear, you should get JERK tattooed to your forehead, just in case some poor fool doesn't figure it out right off."