“Now,” Mark said. “I need a commitment that you are going to back off.” When Edward started to speak, Mark held up a staying hand. “Otherwise I am going to recommend Lindsey file for company bankruptcy.”

Edward’s face reddened. “Damn you, Mark Reeves.”

Mark’s voice was low, no pleasure in his victory. “We have a deal, I take it?”

“What choice do I have?” His voice was weak with resignation.

“You don’t, but what you do have is a chance to keep your daughter in Manhattan. Your way was a worthless effort. One day I hope you’ll see the truth. Lindsey needs your acceptance for who she is, not who you want her to be. I can only hope you get smart before it’s too late to make amends with her.”

When silence filled the air for a long moment, it was obvious to Mark that Edward wasn’t going to respond. “I’ll leave you with your thoughts. Good day, Edward.”

* * * * *

The phone on her desk started ringing the minute she stepped into her father’s office.

She had hoped for a few minutes’ peace to get her thoughts together. Apparently that was too much to ask for. She began scurrying across the office when she heard Maggie over the intercom. “Lindsey?”

She forced the irritation out of her voice. It wasn’t Maggie’s fault that she couldn’t get any peace and quiet. “Yes, Maggie?”

Maggie cleared her throat nervously. Not good, Lindsey thought. “Greg’s on the line.”

Caught between a choice of avoidance and head-on collision, she pondered her options with no easy answer. Damn it, she didn’t feel like dealing with Greg, but she knew she wouldn’t later either.

“Ah, Lindsey?” Maggie questioned, letting Lindsey know time was up.

Grimacing, Lindsey gave in. Better to get it over with. “Put him through,” she said, sitting down, as she deposited her things on the desk.

“Good luck, honey.”

“Yeah, I need it,” she mumbled under her breath. Lindsey took several deep breaths and then picked up the phone line. “This is Lindsey.”

His voice made her flinch. “Hey, beautiful. How are you?”

Lindsey rolled her eyes. Spare me the sweet talk, please. Her response was clipped but polite. “Thanks for the flowers.”

“Just like old times, right?” he said in a soft voice full of intentions that didn’t match Lindsey’s.

No way was she letting him go down this path. “No Greg, it is not like old times, and it can’t ever be like old times again.”

He ignored her in favor of his own agenda. That part was indeed just like old times. “Go to dinner with me, tonight.”

It wasn’t a question, which set her nerves even further on edge, if that was even possible. What part of “over” did the man not understand? “I can’t, Greg. I have a lot of work to do.”

“That’s an excuse, and we both know it,” he said. “Go to dinner with me and you can find out what I know about the Williams case.”

Typical Greg tactic. Dangle something she needed as bait. Silently she cursed him. Lindsey bit her bottom lip, thinking hard. It was tempting to milk him for information. He owed her at least that for the hell of their past. Still, could she put up with Greg for an entire dinner? After only a moment of contemplation, she decided she couldn’t. “Greg, I really can’t.”

He paused as if considering his next attack method. Greg was, if nothing else, a practiced overachiever. The word “no” was not in his vocabulary. “Okay then, coffee. We’ll go to your favorite little spot.” His voice dropped. “I haven’t forgotten any of your little pleasures.”

Every muscle in her body tensed. The very thought of him understanding anything about her, let alone her pleasures, was a joke. Yet logic told her she could get a lot more scoop about Williams if Greg was playing to win her back. She hated being a user, but turnabout was fair play; and she’d been a token in his game for years. “Well,” she said slowly. “I guess we could do coffee.”

She could picture his cocky grin as he responded. “Good. How about seven?”

“Fine, seven.”

“I’ll pick you up at your office.” He didn’t give her a choice, which was so Greg. “See you then, Lindsey.” And he hung up.

No! Not the office. What would Mark think? Lindsey looked at the phone, realizing her grip was like a vise. He couldn’t come to the office. Her fingers punched the telephone buttons, dialing his number, which was embedded in her brain like every other bad memory he represented. Seconds later, she was informed that he wasn’t in his office. Slamming down the phone, she sat unmoving, mulling over her predicament.

Why in the world did she say yes to anything with Greg? He would just cause her trouble.

After a few minutes of beating herself up, she resolved to make the best of her situation. Lindsey swung around in her chair and grabbed the Williams file off her credenza. If the man was going to screw up her life, she might as well do a good job of milking him. It was time to roll up her sleeves and study and make a complete list of questions.

Reviewing files and calling witnesses took up the rest of her afternoon. A call to the NYU Dean’s Office proved difficult at best. Convincing them to share any student information was like pulling teeth. It took threatening the school’s reputation to get any semblance of information. A few other phone calls proved completely fruitless. If Williams was innocent, there was a link to those girls somewhere else. And she knew there had to be.

He was innocent, just like Hudson.

Her instincts said so, and as much as she feared trusting them, as always, they drove her actions. Regardless of the past, she had to go with what had always worked for her. And if Hudson was innocent, then her instincts had really never failed. She’d just thought they did. Getting back to her roots was the only way she would succeed.

She was looking through the police investigation reports on the Williams case, lost in deep concentration, when a noise made her jump. Her eyes darted upward, and she was shocked to see Mark standing in front of her desk. It scared the hell out of her that she had been so absorbed that she’d never even heard him enter. “Do you know how to knock, Mark?” she asked sharply.

Mark’s eyes immediately flashed to the roses sitting on Lindsey’s desk and then back to her face. “Funny, I thought we were past certain pretense.” His voice was sweetly sarcastic.

Lindsey avoided looking at the roses. He was angry, but he had it tucked neatly behind his business mask. Still, it was there, in his eyes and in his tone of voice. And that made her angry. Between her father, Greg, and the men she had encountered in her field investigations, she was well past her quota of the overbearing opposite sex for the day. She didn’t need Mark sending her into overload.

“One romp in the sack does not discard my right to privacy at work,” she threw out sharply.

Mark’s eyes narrowed and a flash of anger darted through them before he carefully offered her a blank stare. “So that’s how it is, is it?” He thumbed a rose petal.

Lindsey pushed her chair back and stood up. “You know, at the moment I have had it to about here,” Lindsey put her hand to the top of her head, “with men and their territorial claims on me and my time.”

Mark’s eyes darkened into deep pools of heat as he stood completely still, not moving a single muscle, just staring at her. There was a long, awkward silence before he turned and headed to the door. If he had said something, anything, it would have been easier to deal with than his cold silence. Lindsey felt regret like a sharp pain, and her chest tightened. “That’s it?” she demanded to his back. “You’re not going to say anything?”

Mark stopped walking but didn’t turn around for several beats. When he did, she hated the cool detachment that filled his face. His voice was brittle and low. “I am not playing this game with you, Lindsey. Press me, and I’ll leave you with this mess.”