“Oh.”

“You’re running out of excuses.”

“I am not.”

“Your nipples hard?”

“Mace!”

“Give me something. I’m dyin’ here.” Every once in a while, Mace suddenly reminded her he was born and raised in New York when a little bit of an accent reared its ugly head. It usually only happened when he got emotional or, if she remembered her school days correctly, horny…

She ground her teeth together. She would not have phone sex with a guy she hadn’t seen in more than twenty years. Even she wasn’t that desperate. “What do you want from me, Mace?”

There went that damn purr again. Deep. Low from his gut. Primal. “Everything.”

Dez closed her eyes. Good answer. But also the wrong one. She didn’t have everything to give. She was a cop. Born a cop if you happened to ask her dad. The one thing in her life that made her truly happy. The one thing she did really well. She couldn’t give that up for Mace. She couldn’t give that up for anybody.

“You got quiet all of a sudden. What’s wrong?”

Dez sighed. “I’m thinking about the price I pay to be me.” Mace chuckled. “What’s so funny, Llewellyn?”

“You. You haven’t changed one damn bit.”

“Are you kidding? I am not the person you used to know.”

“No. You’re the person I always knew you were.”

Dez pulled herself up to a sitting position. “Is that right? And what deep insight do you have about me right now?”

“That’s easy. You’re thinking you’re not about to give up being a cop for me or any man. Aren’t you?”

Dez placed the phone on the comforter and scowled at it. She had the almost overwhelming desire to run from the room screaming. She forgot Mace used to do this to her all the time. That he saw what no one else saw. What no one else wanted to see. Sometimes her own family included.

“Pick up the phone, Dez.”

She shook her head. It’s not a picture phone, you idiot!

“I can hear you breathing. So pick up the phone—now.”

Dez grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. “How did you…when did you…?”

“Come out to dinner with me, Dez.”

“No way!” She would not be dating Rasputin anytime soon.

“You either come out here for a nice, normal dinner or I come there…and who knows what I’ll tell you about yourself.”

Would that be before or after her dogs rip his arms off? Or she fucks him on the porch. You know…whatever.

“This is—”

“Blackmail. Yes. I know. I’m a rich, white male not afraid to use the power of his position.” She rolled her eyes,imagining Mace’s smile as he spouted that load of crap. “So come out with me anyway. Just dinner. I promise.”

“Mace—”

“Come out with me, Dez.” His voice actually got lower. How? “Come out with me tonight. Please?”

The “please” caught her off guard. She didn’t remember Mace ever asking for anything except the salt or ketchup. And then only out of politeness. Now he wasn’t being polite. The man practically begged. She thought about that for a moment. She had someone like Mace Llewellyn begging her to go out with him? Had hell frozen over? Were pigs flying?

She let out a shaky breath and she knew he heard it. Closing her eyes, she wondered how huge this mistake would turn out to be.

“Okay. I’ll go out with you.”

“Good.”

“But just dinner. Don’t go gettin’ any wacky, adolescent ideas.”

“Who? Me?”

“When and where?”

“Eight o’clock. You pick the place. Any place you want.”

“Any place? You know, I have very expensive taste when other people are buying.”

“Any place.”

“Okay. Well, I heard there’s a Van Holtz steakhouse that opened up in the Village.” Another long, rather deafening pause. “Is there a problem there, Mace? A little out of your price range, perhaps?”

“Smart-ass, and no. That’s not an issue.”

“You’re not a vegetarian or something, are you?”

Mace’s almost-hysterical laughter at her offhanded remark seemed a little excessive, but she chose to ignore it. “Well then?”

He cleared his throat. “Okay. Fine. You want Van Holtz? We’ll go to Van Holtz.”

“Jesus, Mace. I’m not asking you to choose a political party here.”

“Might as well be.”

“What?”

“Nothing. So eight, in the Village, front of Van Holtz restaurant. That work for you?”

“Perfect. I’ve gotta do some shopping anyway. So, I’ll see you then. ’Kay?”

“Yeah…so…are your nipples hard or not?”

“Bye, Mace.”

She closed the phone. This is such a mistake.

Dez flinched when her phone rang again. She flipped it open. “I’m not telling you if my nipples are hard.”

“That’s good. Cause I really don’t wanna know,” stated a female voice Dez didn’t recognize.

“Who the hell is this?”

“Is this Detective MacDermot?”

“Who’s askin’?” She shook her head. The reappearance of Bronx-Dez. She thought she’d buried her…