“You’re worse than Cammy.”
“I am not,” Kilraven said huffily. “I haven’t sent one single unattached woman to your office for nefarious purposes.”
“I guess you haven’t.”
They walked toward the restaurant. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever noticed what’s right under your nose.”
“What do you mean?”
“Joceline,” Kilraven replied easily. “She’s a fine young woman. Needs a helping hand with her fashion sense, but she’s intelligent and quick-thinking.”
“You just like her because she knows sixteenth-century Scottish history,” Jon accused, because the subject was his brother’s passion.
“She knows European history, as well. And seventeenth-century American history.”
“Yes, she was spouting it to Cammy’s candidate yesterday. She tied her up in knots. The woman was going on and on about fashion and Joceline cut her off at the ankles with historical references to dress codes.”
“Told you she was smart.”
“She is smart.” He looked at Kilraven. “But I don’t want to get married. Not for years yet. I’m just thirty!”
“Almost thirty-one, little brother,” Kilraven said affectionately. “And you really don’t know what you’re missing.”
“If I don’t know, I can’t miss it. Now let’s get something to eat,” he said quickly, cutting the other man off.
Kilraven chuckled as he followed him into the restaurant. Jon had actually taken Joceline on a date once, some years back. It had been a strange aftermath, including a hospital visit and some threats of legal charges. Jon never spoke of it. He kept secrets. But so did his brother. No doubt he didn’t like remembering that his drink had been spiked right under his nose.
CHAPTER TWO
“BUT SHE’S SUCH a sweet girl,” Cammy argued over the phone. “She’s pretty and she knows all the right people!”
“She spent thirty minutes giving me news bulletins on the latest fashions and hairstyles,” Jon muttered.
There was an exasperated sigh. “At least she’s better dressed than that acid-tongued secretary of yours!”
“Administrative assistant,” Jon corrected. “And Joceline at least manages within her budget. She doesn’t have to borrow to buy clothes.”
“It does show,” came the sarcastic reply.
Jon frowned. “Cammy, don’t you remember being poor?” he asked quietly.
“I do remember, and I’m your mother, so stop calling me by my first name.”
“Sorry, force of habit. Mac does it all the time.”
“Call him McKuen, if you please. I hate that nickname.”
“So does he.”
“Your secretary has a child out of wedlock,” Cammy continued, unabated. “I hate having you associated with someone like that.”
He felt himself bristling. “We live in the twenty-first century,” he objected.
“Yes, and morality is all that separates us from savagery,” she shot back. “We have rules of conduct to keep civilization from floundering. Just look around you at the outrageous things people are doing! Women don’t raise children anymore, they run corporations! Do you wonder why the crime rates among juveniles are so high? Who’s teaching them values? Who’s …?”
He cleared his throat. “Cammy, I’m due in court.”
She stopped short, still seething. “You should get another secretary.”
“I’m so glad you called. Have a nice day. I’ll phone you on the weekend.”
“Come to the ranch for the weekend,” she suggested.
Where her candidate would be waiting with glee.
“Afraid I can’t, there’s a stakeout.”
“You’re a senior agent, surely you can delegate!”
“Not on this one. Now I have to go. Really.”
“I don’t like it that you work on that violent crimes squad. You could work white collar crime! Jon …”
“Bye, Cammy!”
“Don’t call me …!”
He put down the receiver and let out a puff of air. That was when he noticed Joceline, outside the door he’d forgotten to close. She was very pale and she didn’t speak. She walked in, forced a smile and laid a document on his desk. While he was trying to find something to say, and worrying about how much of that conversation she’d overheard, she walked out and closed the door.
Joceline sat down at her desk heavily and tried to block out the sound of Jon’s mother’s voice, which had been audible even several feet away from the telephone. Most agents used cell phones, and eavesdropping wasn’t really possible, but Jon used a landline in the office. And Cammy Blackhawk’s voice carried. Joceline felt sick to her stomach as she registered the other woman’s overt hostility toward her.
She knew that people talked about her. Gossip was unavoidable in her situation, even in modern times, in a city. Cammy Blackhawk was a throwback to another generation, one just slightly less tolerant and open-minded than younger people today. It didn’t help that Joceline was hopelessly in love with her attractive boss, or that she had uncomfortable dreams about him.
He enjoyed being single. He rarely dated, and even when he did, it was usually a professional woman, an attorney or a district court judge. Once it had been an attractive public defender. But it was usually only one date. Like the one he’d had with Joceline. She didn’t dare think too much about that.
She was curious about why he didn’t date. She couldn’t ask him, of course. It was far too personal a question. But she’d overheard him talking to his brother once about how aggressive women could be. Knowing that his supposedly chaste reputation was like a red flag to a permissive female, she imagined that he’d been faced with imminent seduction more than once and didn’t like it. As his mother was moral, so was he. They were both conservative to the back teeth, in fact.
Joceline looked at the photo of Markie that she kept in her wallet. He was a mix of his mother and father. He had his father’s elegant straight nose and his black hair. His father was good-looking, and smart. She hoped that Markie would follow his father in that respect.
She sighed over the photograph. Her fascination with her pregnancy had grown by the day while she carried Markie. He was a beautiful child, blue-eyed and slender, with a mischievous expression that was characteristic of him. He loved to play hide-and-seek. He enjoyed video games, especially Super Mario Brothers. He was constantly begging for a puppy or a kitten,
