She frowned, dipped her gaze to their joined hands. Blinking back to the present, he released her and addressed the crowd. “Questions?” With a nod, he gestured to Mac Devlin from NBC 5.

“Our understanding is that you had already been evacuated but went back into the hotel. Can you confirm that?”

“One of my staff was still inside and I went back in before CFD arrived. Probably not the wisest decision, but I have no regrets. Next.”

Jillian Malone, Sam Cochrane’s favorite flunky over at the Trib, spoke next.

“Initial reports stated that you carried Firefighter Dempsey to safety,” Malone said, “and not the other way around.”

“Yes, it would seem your paper jumped the gun today with that headline, Miss Malone. If you had checked your facts—”

“We had a confirmed source inside CFD,” she interrupted.

He glared at her. He was the mayor and he hated interruptions unless he was doing the interrupting.

“Once in the stairwell after Firefighter Dempsey saved me, we traveled down one flight and exited into the lobby. There was a lot of confusion when we emerged. We both needed medical attention, but the facts are as I stated. Alexandra saved my life. End of report.”

They were no longer touching, but he felt her stiffen beside him all the same, likely at his overly familiar use of her first name. The slight shift in the room told him the vultures had picked up on it, too.

“Several eyewitness accounts cast you in a more heroic light, Mr. Mayor,” Jillian continued, a dog with the proverbial. “You’ve also made it clear in previous statements your disapproval of women in the fire department.”

It might have sounded like a non sequitur, but Eli had learned long ago that there was nothing random about a reporter’s questions. He turned on his megawattage smile, the one that put him in People. The Sexiest Man Alive issue. “Yes, I have. Guess I look pretty dumb now, huh?”

The reporters laughed heartily at his mea culpa, but the noise wasn’t quite enough to mask what sounded like—a growl?—from the woman to his immediate right. His blood stirred.

“Firefighter Dempsey,” John Suarez from the local affiliate at CBS chimed in, “your family isn’t afraid of the spotlight and you have a fractious history with the mayor’s office.”

She cocked an eyebrow beneath a wayward curl. “Is there a question in there?”

Soft chuckles washed over the room. Before Suarez could continue, Alexandra spoke again. “Maybe you mean to ask, given my family’s history with the mayor, if I was tempted to leave Mr. Cooper so he could find his own way out?”

The shocked faces of the most jaded and dark souls in Chicago stared back, on tenterhooks for the punch line.

“Sure. I mean we’ve all wanted to kill him at one point or another.”

Jesus, that saucy mouth. He would really enjoy punishing her. “Please, Firefighter Dempsey. Tell the esteemed members of the press how you really feel.”

She met his gaze with her usual insolent directness. Humor, and possibly mischief, flashed in those fiery eyes. “Well, I’d be remiss if I didn’t use this opportunity to address the concerns of my union. The mayor has made it clear that the needs of the Chicago Fire Department, from resource allocation to our underfunded pensions, are low on his list of priorities. I think if he’s reelected he won’t make any improvements—”

“So you’re voting for Caroline Jenkins?” some wag near the back tossed out.

“Still undecided. She’s not impressing me a whole lot, either, but at least she hasn’t declared a war on the working class.”

Enough. He’d let her have her fun. “Well, it’s a good thing your professionalism overrode your dislike, Alexandra. I’m incredibly grateful that you could put that aside when you did your job.”

An impudent grin stretched those luscious lips he’d imagined wrapped around his cock this morning. “It was a tough call, but yeah, I’m not sure I was prepared for the womankind backlash I’d face if I didn’t haul you out of there. Gnashing of teeth, gouging of hair, deflation of breasts. Just doing my part for the sisterhood.”

The toughest room in Chicago went wild over that. Time to call this game for darkness.

“Thank you all for coming and—”

Too late. The vultures had carrion between their beaks. “Alex, do you feel as though the mayor really respects you and the rest of the female firefighters in CFD now that you’ve proven yourself?”

“I’ve no idea. You’d have to ask him.”

All heads swiveled six inches to the right.

Tread carefully, Mr. Mayor. “I’ve never not respected our female firefighters. I’ve had reservations about their capability to endure the physicality of the job.” He drew in a breath and sealed his fate. “That hasn’t changed.”

“There’s your answer,” Alexandra said with unmistakable cheer.

Damn her. She had set him up, knowing he would look like a flip-flopper if he softened his previous stance.

“On that note”—he recognized the need to quit while she was ahead—“I think it’s time to wrap this up. Ladies. Gentlemen.” Alexandra was already bouncing toward the exit. Practically skipping.

As Eli passed Madison, she murmured, “Can’t you just lie like a regular politician?” while Tom thumbed over his shoulder to a departing Dempsey. “Should I detain her now, sir, for threatening the life of the mayor?”

“Give me a five-minute head start to strangle her first,” he growled, pounding out after her. She was moving quickly as though concerned for her safety.

She should be.

“Think you’ve scored some points here, I suppose,” he said to her back.

Spinning about, she ripped off her cap, setting free that revolution of untamable curls. “I answered honestly, Mr. Mayor. I didn’t know what they were going to ask, and let’s face it, you made clear your feelings about women in CFD. Though I suppose I should give you credit because you stuck to your guns with the same old chauvinistic bullshit. I don’t have your respect, so you have no right to expect mine. Now, I’ve done my duty and I’m done with you.”

Fury at her dismissal of him set his muscles seething beneath his skin. Hell if she didn’t need a strict lesson about manners. While he pondered how this lesson should be dealt out, she pivoted and headed toward the elevator.

Dragging her to his office was out of the question—oh, the vultures would love that—and he needed to get her under control ASAP. Two long strides and he was on her like a hawk.

“We’re not finished, Alexandra.” He tucked a palm beneath her elbow, absorbed her whoosh of surprise, and pulled her through the nearest door.

 CHAPTER FIVE

Alex caught a glimpse of . . . what the? Family-sized boxes of tampons bathed in light from the corridor before the door was shut behind her.

Scratch that. Behind them. He had practically pushed her into . . . wherever he had pushed her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Wait one damn second,” he mumbled.

A yellow light flickered on and, rather than address the blistering shock that he had shanghaied her, they both chose to spend a moment surveying their surroundings. The glow from the bulb was weak but enough to semi-illuminate a supply closet. Paper towels, toilet rolls, and feminine hygiene products—more than could be found in the dedicated aisle at Walgreens—padded the walls.

Like a cell in an asylum.

A couple of tampons had dislodged from an open box and lay on a steel-wired shelf. Eli picked one up and studied it as if it might hold the answer to some great philosophical question.