“I expected as much.” Edward, was, if nothing else, predictable.

“He threatened to have security escort you out.”

Mark pushed away from his desk and stood up. He walked around the desk and leaned on it, facing her. Close but not too close. Edward wasn’t his concern. “What do you want?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I want you to stay.”

“You’re sure?” he asked. Her accusation still ate at him. “You said I was just like him.”

She looked down. “I was upset.” Her eyes lifted again.

He needed to know where they stood. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Mark, I . . .” Her words faltered.

His eyes probed her face. “What did you tell Edward?” Her answer would say a lot.

Her chin raised a notch higher as if she wanted him see the truth in her gaze. “I told him if you go, I go.”

He reached for her then, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet, and then into his arms. She came without hesitation, hand on his chest, looking up at him with those soft, too-green eyes. “And he said what in response?” Mark asked.

A wave of distress flashed across her face. Unaware of her action, her hands tightened on his shirt. “He hung up on me.”

Mark couldn’t help feeling a hint of amusement. He would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when Lindsey had laid it on the line. But she was distressed, and he understood why. His hand ran down her back. “Everything will work out. I promise. Let me think things through, and we’ll talk before the meeting. Is that fair enough?”

“How can he expect me to do this alone?” she said, as if a wall had come down and she had decided to unload on him. “I’ve never even touched the books, and dealing with the partners is new to me. I can’t do this Williams case alone—”

Mark cut her off by kissing her, a soft, reassuring press of his lips to hers. When he lifted his head, he smiled at her. “It’ll work out, I promise.”

“Why does he hate you so much?”

Mark was silent. He hadn’t told Lindsey what had happened between him and Edward, and now didn’t seem like the time. “He and I simply don’t agree on business matters.”

She grabbed his tie. “Don’t shut me out, damn it.”

His hand went to her face. “Then don’t shut me out. Give me a chance before you judge me.”

Her eyes registered her guilt, but her words were defensive. “I had a good reason for not taking you to the meeting with Steve.”

“You ran out on me while I was in the shower. That was a low blow.”

She paled. “If you hadn’t demanded—”

“I was worried.”

“I can take care of myse—” He swallowed her words with his mouth, kissing her as if he was drinking her in, with long, sensual strokes. Lindsey was like a fine wine, perfect from the very first drop, and addictive from there.

Whatever she was doing to him, he wanted more. The instant his tongue touched hers, she relaxed into him, arms inching around his neck, body leaning into him. She felt what he did. This irresistible need to explore what was between them. Right or wrong, what they shared was too alive to ignore.

When they came up for air, he leaned close to her ear. “I wasn’t trying to control you.”

“I know,” she whispered.

He leaned back to see her eyes. “You’re sure?”

She smiled. “At this very moment, in your arms, having just been kissed very well,” she said, “yes.”

He laughed. “I guess I will settle for that answer.”

“Do you have time to hear what Steve had to say?” She pointed at the untouched bag of food on his desk. “You can eat while I talk.”

He smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Then we can figure out how to handle my father.”

“I’ll take care of Edward.”

She fixed him in a look. “Not without telling me how. We do this together or not at all.”

Mark smiled to himself. Lindsey had no idea how much she had just given him.

Chapter Eight

If one more cab passed her by as if she wasn’t standing at the curb with her hand out, she might just throw something at it.

As if in acknowledgement of her words, a car screeched to a halt in front of her. “Finally,” she muttered to the air as she yanked open the door and slid inside.

“Where to, lady?” the driver barked, never looking at her. Lindsey reached for her briefcase. “I said, Where to, lady?”

“Just a minute.” Her response was terse as she dug for Todd Rogers’ address and found it.

A few seconds later, she sunk back into the seat as the car jerked forward. It didn’t take much to tune out the horn-honking and cursing that went on in the front seat. It was just as much a part of New York as pizza.

Her thoughts went to Mark. How easy it had been to fall back into his arms, and forget their earlier fight. She’d even enjoyed exchanging thoughts about the possible Nevada connection. But when he’d finished his lunch, he’d seemed eager to get away from her. And secretive about why. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if he hadn’t manipulated her to see his way by way of his kisses. Which meant he had done the very thing she hadn’t wanted . . . controlled her.

So, bothered by the idea that Mark was keeping her under thumb, she had to get out of the office. Since Todd couldn’t be reached by phone, she’d decided to try another in-person visit.

The cab stopped at her destination way before her whirlwind of thoughts were in order.

Todd Rogers lived on Bleeker Street smack in the middle of Greenwich Village, the heart of the art district. Considered to be one of the more expensive areas of town, Lindsey assumed Tom had family money or a whole heck of a lot of roommates. Stepping from the cab, she took in historic buildings with fondness. The particular area of town was full of shopping, fine dining, and elegant architecture. Close to campus, it was busy with skateboarders, bikers, and a scurry of walkers. Busy during the day, it was even busier at night. Clubs and bars lined the corners, as did restaurants and stores.

Todd’s apartment complex sat nestled between a pizza parlor and a hairdresser. It was a small complex, not more than ten stories, versus the many high-rise towers so common in the city. There was no doorman so Lindsey was able to push through the street door and enter the small hallway that housed the mailboxes and the downstairs apartments. Glancing at the narrow stairs that led to the other apartments, with no elevator in sight, Lindsey was thankful Tom lived on the bottom floor.

Almost the instant she knocked on the door, it flew open, taking her off guard. Tall, lean, and denim-clad, the man who greeted her was a full-fledged cowboy, complete with a Stetson on top of his head. The hat shadowed his eyes, but she felt his gaze, hot and heavy, as it made a slow slide down her body. Uneasiness pricked at her nerve endings. Despite the perspiration dampening her skin, she felt a cold chill sweep over her skin.

“Todd Rogers?”

Using his knuckle, he tapped the brim of his hat backwards, exposing the well-defined sharpness of his cheekbones, along with sharp, sea blue eyes. “Nope, but sure wish I was,” he said, plopping a shoulder against the doorframe and crossing one booted foot over the other.

Lindsey fought irritation. Damn if the man wasn’t going to make her ask the obvious. “When will he be back?”

“Well, now, that depends on who’s asking,” he drawled in a slow, Texas accent.

“Lindsey Paxton is the name and I am investigating the death of Elizabeth Moore. Now,” she said succinctly, “when will he be back?”

He gave her a long, assessing stare. “Too bad about Elizabeth.”

His voice seemed sincere enough, but something about it didn’t sit right with Lindsey. Perhaps, the words rolled out a bit too flat. As if they didn’t matter all that much. Lindsey’s eyes narrowed. “You knew her?”

“Hard not to. She dated my roommate for a year. Party animal that one there, though. I told Todd he needed to get her under control. Appears I was right. Never safe for a girl like that to run around like she did.”