sending her stumbling forward.
Deme’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “Going back to St. Croix had me wondering if I’d lost a marble or two.”
“Not too late to change your mind.” Warner tipped his head, his brows rising. “We haven’t officially put you on the payroll, yet.”
“Thanks for the out, but I don’t need it. I’m back in Chicago to stay and could use a paying job.”
The chief stuck out a hand and shook Deme’s, squeezing so tightly she could swear her bones crunched. “When do you want me to start?”
“Yesterday,” he replied without hesitation. “No, really. But I’m sure you have a lot to do to get settled in. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Have you touched base with Black, yet?”
Her pulse leaped. “No, sir.” Foolishly she’d been counting the days, hours and minutes until she could touch bases and a lot more with the man. Now she was only seconds away from him, if he was on duty.
The chief craned his neck. “He’s around here somewhere. I saw him five minutes ago. Check in the conference room. I think he’s in there.”
“Sir.” A plainclothes officer stood beside his desk, waving the chief over, a phone pressed to one ear. “We got a call from the Third District. Got a situation going down.”
“Excuse me.” Chief Warner ducked around Deme. “Look in the conference room,” he repeated over his shoulder.
Adrenaline hopping, Deme stood in the middle of the room, wondering which way the conference room was.
“It’s in the far corner.” A man with shaggy sandy-blond hair pushed past her, carrying a jumble of wires and USB cables. He tipped his head to the rear of the room.
“Thanks.” Deme turned in that direction and wove her way through a maze of desks and people.
New to the department, she held her head high and pretended she belonged, although that was as far from what she felt as it could be. Starting over was hard. Running her own private investigations business in St. Croix had proven easy. Rich businessmen and desperate wives came to her. Deme had mastered the art of being low profile. To be a good investigator, you had to blend in. She’d done that well, pretending to be a tourist or local depending on the need.
Now, with nothing assigned, she stood out as the only person in the room without a pressing task. That would come soon enough. First she wanted to see Cal.
The conference room door stood open only enough for her to poke her head around.
A man and a woman stood in front of a large white board with pictures stuck to the surface with magnets and markings linking some of them to dates.
The man had longish dark hair and his back was to Deme. The woman’s arms laced around his neck, pressing his head down toward hers. From their stance Deme could only conclude that they were engaged in a lip-lock.
Deme ducked back out, heat rushing into her cheeks. Oops. Someone had taken an opportunity to sneak a little nookie on the job. She’d witnessed enough clandestine assignations during her stint as a private investigator. The amount of lying and cheating had hardened her to the idea of opening her heart to a man. Until Cal had come back into her life.
She moved on, hoping to find another conference room with Cal in it. There were other rooms, but they were smaller and empty. As she turned back to the large conference room where the couple was making out, a niggle of doubt pushed into her mind.
A beautiful raven-haired woman with ice-blue eyes emerged from the room.
Wow. She was gorgeous. She was almost too pretty, with her porcelain skin, deep red lips and a mass of long loose curls framing her face. Her gaze scanned the room, lighting briefly on Deme. With a dismissive rise of her brows she turned and headed for the elevator, moving like sex in motion.
Every male and some female gazes followed the woman until she disappeared around a corner.
Deme frowned. “Good grief.” She retraced her steps to the conference room, intent on asking the man the dark-haired woman had been kissing if he knew where Cal Black could be found.
When she stepped into the room, her heart skidded to a halt, her blood freezing in her veins. The man who’d been standing with his back to her the last time she’d entered the room turned to face her, his eyes glazed, a slight frown marring his handsome brow.
Calais Black. Her partner and her lover. Make that former lover.
“Deme?” He blinked and blinked again. A smile spread across his face and his feet ate the distance between them. “When did you get in? Why didn’t you tell me you were flying in today?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” She forced the words out around constricted vocal cords.
Hell, the surprise had been on her.
Chapter Two
Back at her apartment Deme climbed out of Cal’s SUV and slammed the door before he had a chance to shift into Park. “Don’t bother coming up. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
She’d insisted on calling a cab to take her home, but Cal had refused to let her. Now he sighed, got out of his vehicle and hurried to catch up to her. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. “What’s the matter?”
“Seriously? You have to ask?” She shook off his hand and entered the building without looking back.
The short burst of happiness Cal had felt at seeing Deme had been effectively wiped away by the angry glare and brusque sentences. “Are you having second thoughts about us, again?”
“I would have had to have first thoughts. Just leave it. And leave me.” She fitted her key into the doorknob and twisted.
The door swung open. Deme stepped inside and turned to face him, blocking the entryway with her body. “You’re not welcome here.”
“Like hell.” He shoved the door open so hard it banged the wall. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell has your panties in a wad.” He closed the door behind him and leaned on it, crossing his arms over his chest. “Start talking.”
Deme threw her purse on the sofa and walked away. “And to think I’d been looking forward to seeing you.”
His heart flipped and raced on. He’d been looking forward to her return since the day she’d left. “And what changed your mind?”
“That woman, the conference room, the kiss.” Deme faced him, her hands on her hips. “Did you think I’d be happy to see you making out with another woman?”
His brows knitted together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You and the black-haired bitch in the conference room.” Deme shook her head. “Don’t play stupid with me. I saw you kissing her. You know...black hair...blue eyes...a body that doesn’t quit...”
Cal pushed his hand through his hair, trying to grasp what Deme was saying and not getting it. “The
