Brazen Virtue

Detective Jackson uses baby powder. Johnson & Johnson. Right?”
    “It works.”
    “I can attest to that.” Like a puppy, she sniffed along his neck and shoulders. “The only trouble is, I have a feeling every time I smell a baby I’m going to get turned on.”
    “I’m thinking about having that shirt bronzed.”
    She nipped at his ear. “Is that what finally turned the trick?”
    “No, but it didn’t hurt. I’ve always been a sucker for legs.”
    “Oh yeah.” Smiling, she rubbed hers against his. “And what else?”
    “You. Right from the start.” He caught her hair in his hand so that he could look at her. So much for timing and caution and well-laid plans. “Grace, I want you to marry me.”

    She couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open, or prevent the gasp that was one part surprise, one part alarm. She tried to speak, but her mind, for once, was completely blank. She could only stare, and as she did, she saw his words hadn’t been spoken on impulse; he’d thought them through very carefully.
    “Wow.”
    “I love you, Grace.” He saw her eyes change at that, soften. But they were still shadowed by something like fear. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I want to spend my life with you, take care of you. I know it’s not easy being married to a cop, but I can promise to do everything I can to make it work.”
    She drew away slowly. “I’ll say this, once you get going, you move fast.”
    “I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but I knew I’d recognize it. I recognized you, Grace.”
    “God.” She pressed a hand to her heart. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to hyperventilate. “I’m not often taken so completely by surprise. Ed, we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and …” She trailed off as he continued to look at her. “You’re serious.”
    “I never asked anyone to marry me before, because I didn’t want to make a mistake. This isn’t a mistake.”
    “You—you don’t really know me. I’m not really a nice person. I’m cranky when things aren’t going my way. And God knows, I’m moody. I have a temper even my closest friends live in fear of, and—this isn’t getting through.”
    “I love you.”
    “Oh Ed.” She took both of his hands. “I don’t know what to say to you.”
    She wasn’t going to say what he wanted to hear. He was already dealing with that. “Tell me how you feel.”
    “I don’t know. I haven’t worked it out. Tonight—I can tell you truthfully that I’ve never felt closer to anyone. I’ve never felt stronger about anyone. But marriage. Ed, I’ve never even thought about marriage for myself in general, much less to a specific person. I don’t know how to be a wife.”

    He brought her hand to his lips. “Are you telling me no?”
    She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I can’t seem to. I can’t say yes either. It’s a hell of a spot to be in.”
    “Why don’t you just tell me you’ll think about it.”
    “I’ll think about it,” she said quickly. “Christ, you made my head spin.”
    “That’s a start.” He pulled her to him again. “Why don’t I finish the job?”
    “Ed.” She put her hand to his cheek before he could kiss her. “Thanks for asking.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    “Ed.” She held him off a second time, but now her eyes were laughing. “Are you sure you don’t just want my body?”
    “Could be. Why don’t I check it out again, to be sure?”
    I T WOULD HAVE BEEN nice to spend Saturday lazing around, or helping Ed give the drywall a second coat. Still, Grace was grateful he had to spend most of his day off at the station. She had a lot to think about, and she did that best alone. It also gave her the opportunity to have the extra phone line hooked up without having to explain herself. That would have to happen soon enough.
    She was setting herself up as bait. That meant going to work for Fantasy. For as long as it took, or until they caught her sister’s killer some other way, Grace was going to be spending her evenings on the phone talking to strangers. One of them, sooner or later, would put in a personal appearance.
    Ed would work his puzzle his way, but she would go straight to the heart and make the pieces fit.

    She hadn’t liked buying the gun. In Manhattan, she’d never felt the need for one. She knew the city was dangerous, but to others, to those who didn’t know where and when to walk. Somehow, she’d always felt safe there, in the crowds, on