chuckled. “It can be interesting, but I confess there have been moments I wished I was an only child.”
“Really?”
“When you meet my family, you’ll understand.”
“I look forward to it,” she said, more out of politeness than actually thinking she would meet his family.
“Good. Then you’ll join us for Sunday dinner.”
“What? No... I can’t... I...” she suddenly stammered.
“Do you have plans?”
“No, but...”
“Then it’s a date. My mother would kill me if she found out you were new in town and I didn’t welcome you properly. Sunday dinner with my parents is mandatory for half the neighborhood. I can pick you up at your hotel at two o’clock.”
“I can drive myself...”
“I’ll pick you up,” he said, an air of finality in his tone.
Her first instinct was to balk. Arguing the point would have been second nature, Danni not accustomed to any man telling her what to do on her personal time. She was quite capable of finding her way around and more than able to decide for herself about her plans. But she held her tongue, accepting his directive in a way that was completely out of character.
Armstrong gestured for her to get into the car, then closed the door. She watched as he rounded the front of the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat. There was a moment of hesitation before he engaged the engine.
“What?” Danni questioned.
“We need to go change our clothes. We look like cops, and where we need to go, we’ll need to blend in if we’re going to get any answers.”
“Where are we going?”
“To find a man named Pius!”
Danni did not realize how exhausted she was until she stepped into the shower. The day had been longer than she’d anticipated, and it was only when Armstrong had asked her to change and be ready by the time he returned that she questioned if she had the stamina for round two. As she eased her naked body into the mist of hot water, every muscle from her head to her toes seemed to convulse, constricting and then relaxing before she felt as if a wealth of weight had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders. Taking a deep breath and then a second to steady herself, she found herself feeling lazy and tired and ready for a long nap. She had an hour before Armstrong would be back to get her, so a nap was out of the question. She needed to make the most out of the downtime that she could.
The task force had put her up at the Chicago Lake Shore Hotel. Located in the Hyde Park neighborhood, it was clean, cozy, convenient to the downtown area, and the staff was pleasant. She had six weeks before she would have to return to Atlanta or find her own place to lay her head. Six weeks was at least four weeks too long, Danni thought, determined to bring down someone named Pius and anyone else involved in their case before then.
Thoughts of Armstrong Black suddenly pitched through her thoughts, a cavalcade of energy shooting through her body. The palm of her hand trailed a soapy path from her shoulder, down her arm, to rest against her abdomen just below her belly button. A quiver of energy rippled through her midsection. The man was as intense as she was, and there was no mistaking how seriously he took his job. As he had dropped her off at her hotel, he’d given her a list of directives, his tone brusque and commanding. Clearly, he expected that she would follow orders and do what she was told. Danni had never been one to take direction well, but she was determined not to rock the boat when he could be the help she needed to finish her task.
Stepping from the flow of water, she turned off the faucet with one hand and reached for a stark white towel with the other. Moving naked into the other room, she dropped onto the corner of the bed as she dug into her luggage, looking for a jar of Cetaphil lotion, a clean pair of panties and something to wear.
Minutes late she was moisturized from head to toe, spritzed with the light scent of lavender and dressed in a pair of frayed and torn denim jeans, a cotton T-shirt and black, steel-toed work boots. Taking a quick glance at herself, she pondered whether or not to put on makeup and then decided against it. She pulled her fingers through her hair, twisting the strands up into a high knot atop her head. Satisfied with the reflection staring back at her, she moved to the window to stare out to the parking lot and wait.
* * *
She looked like a grade-schooler, Armstrong thought as Danni sauntered out of the hotel toward his car. He would have been lying if he said he hadn’t been excited to get back to her. Because he had. Overly excited, and it surprised him. He’d been thinking about her since they’d parted ways, him headed home to shower and change while she returned to her hotel room to do the same.
She’d become an irritation, a prickly thorn in his side determined to have his attention. Despite his best efforts he was finding it difficult to get her out of his head. He hadn’t expected to like her, but he did. He liked her gumption and the fire in her spirit that would probably prove to be a challenge for any man. She had managed to do what few women ever had before and that was to hold his full and undivided attention. Now she was walking toward him looking like a twelve-year-old and not the stunning woman who’d been with him most of the day. Well, maybe not twelve, but definitely younger than she had hours earlier. It was unnerving, and he didn’t mind saying so.
“How old are you?” he asked as he moved to open the car door for the woman.
Danni laughed. “Old enough. Why?”
He shook his head, a slight smile pulling at his mouth. “You look like you’re just starting puberty. It’s scary.”
“Starting puberty? Really?”
He shrugged.
Her rich laugh echoed in the early-evening air. “As long as I don’t look like a cop!” She pulled the seat belt across her lap and engaged it. “And I’m thirty-four, so puberty has surely come and gone.”
Armstrong shot her a look, surprise creasing his brow. “Thirty-four? You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m very serious. How old are you?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Oh.” Danni turned to stare out the window. A smile pulled gently at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh? Why did you say it like that?”
“I thought you might have been in your forties,” she answered, turning back to stare at him.
Armstrong bristled. “I do not look that old.”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “If you say so.”
“Do I look like I’m forty?”
She laughed heartily. “You look like you’re well past puberty.”
Armstrong laughed with her. “Touché! At least I don’t look like I need
