Jason’s perfect eyebrow arched. “And you think Sloan is scary?”

As the two men left, Rebecca walked over to Sloan. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“Would you, if it had been Catherine?”

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a cop.”

“Your point is?”

“Don’t go rogue on this, Sloan.”

“Then figure out how to sell it to your Captain, Sergeant.”

“I thought I heard you come in,” Catherine said, sitting on the arm of the overstuffed chair and threading her arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “Are you going to come to bed? It’s late, darling, and you’re exhausted.”

Rebecca leaned her head against Catherine’s shoulder, rubbing her cheek over the soft silk of the ivory camisole. “I’m still keyed up, I guess.”

“You looked very calm on TV,” Catherine murmured, rubbing the tense muscles at the base of her lover’s neck. “In fact, you looked fabulous.”

“God, you feel good.” Rebecca closed her eyes, lulled by the gentle hands and the sweet seductive fragrance of Catherine’s skin.

“So do you.” Catherine reminded herself that Rebecca had been working for nearly two days straight, but her body didn’t seem to be listening. She slid her fingers beneath the collar of her lover’s shirt and stroked the skin above her left breast.

Rebecca groaned, feeling the familiar ache settle between her thighs. “I need to shower.”

“And then you need to sleep.” Catherine’s voice was breathy with desire.

“I will,” Rebecca promised, pulling Catherine into her lap. As she kissed her, she slipped her fingers beneath the sheer material and cupped Catherine’s breast. She moaned in appreciation as the nipple hardened instantly against her palm. “Later.”

Catherine wrapped her arms around Rebecca’s shoulders and fisted the hair at the back of her neck, losing herself in the pleasure of Rebecca’s mouth. When she felt Rebecca’s hand drift lower, across her abdomen and under the edge of her silk pajama bottoms, she stopped the questing hand with her own. Gasping, she warned, “If you start, you’ll have to finish. You know I can’t hold back when you do that.”

“I was planning on finishing,” Rebecca growled, brushing her fingers over the inside of Catherine’s thigh. “Ah god, you’re wet.”

“Then go shower and come to bed,” Catherine said urgently. She pushed away and stood on trembling legs. “Because I want you to finish with me.”

Rebecca’s eyes darkened, and she rose quickly, all thoughts of fatigue, of frustration, of powerlessness gone. Now, there was only Catherine.

CHAPTER THIRTY

“Rebecca. Rebecca, darling, it’s time to get up.”

Groaning, Rebecca turned onto her back, opened her eyes, and blinked against the light, which seemed awfully bright even though the lamp on the dresser was turned down low. It took her a second to focus on Catherine, who stood beside the bed in a two-piece, deep plum colored silk suit, the jacket of which she wore buttoned over apparently very little.

“Nice.”

“What?” Catherine asked, perplexed.

“The jacket.”

Catherine glanced down and blushed, noting where Rebecca’s gaze was fixed. “This is my going-to-work suit. It is not supposed to be seductive.”

“Sorry, but it is.”

“To you, maybe,” Catherine noted with a laugh.

“Not maybe—definitely. Any chance you could come back to bed?”

“None.” Catherine leaned over and kissed her, then stepped back out of touching range. She didn’t trust her lover, or herself. “Besides, I thought I’d taken care of that particular urge of yours not too long ago.”

“You did, spectacularly, but that was last night. Today’s a brand new day.” Rebecca sat up against the pillows, carelessly unconcerned about her nakedness as the sheet fell away. “What time is it?”

“Seven.” Catherine’s eyes flickered over the scar so very close to Rebecca’s heart and her own heart missed a beat. God, it was so close.

“How come you’re up and I’m not?”

Catherine forced a smile. “Because I need to leave for work, and you needed to sleep.”

Rebecca patted a spot on the bed next to her. “Stay for just a minute.”

“Mmm—okay, but you’re not allowed to touch.” Catherine sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs, her skirt sliding to mid thigh.

“I’m not very good with authority figures.” To prove her point, Rebecca leaned forward and kissed the cleft between Catherine’s breasts. “Or…” Rebecca ran her finger under the hem of the skirt, “orders.”

Deftly, Catherine captured Rebecca’s fingers and moved them. “I’m in doctor mode and therefore immune to your charms.”

“So this is what happens to romance when you live together, huh?” Rebecca’s eyes were dancing.

“We’re not living together,” Catherine said softly, her eyes searching Rebecca’s face.

“I seem to remember you asking.” Rebecca’s blue eyes were serious now.

“I did. Yes.” Catherine traced her fingers along Rebecca’s jaw and down her neck. “And I sincerely doubt that seeing you like this more often would dampen my ardor.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rebecca’s voice was husky.

“I can assure you, my love, that fifty years from now I’ll look at you and want you just as much as ever.”

“Those seem like pretty good terms to me.”

“I want you to be sure.” Catherine’s voice was gentle, her smile wistful.

Rebecca leaned forward, her hands framing Catherine’s face, her thumbs brushing the elegant cheeks. Her mouth was very near to Catherine’s when she murmured, “I’m certain that I could never love anyone more and that I will never stop loving you.”

Catherine slips curved into a smile against Rebecca’s mouth. “Those seem like the perfect terms to me.”

“Well, well, well,” Captain Henry said with undisguised delight. “The detective of the hour. Sit down, Sergeant…or should I be the first to say, Lieutenant?”

“Sir?” Rebecca sat in the familiar chair and crossed her trousered legs.

“You’re not going to be able to refuse the promotion this time, Frye. I’ve already had a call from the Chief who said he speaks for the Commissioner, and they both want your promotion made effective immediately. The department needs good officers, and you’ve earned this.”

The department wants to be able to point to a few women of rank, come election time. Rebecca chose her words carefully. She wasn’t entirely certain she wanted a promotion, especially not if it meant she’d be riding a desk at One Police Plaza. But perhaps she could play this to her advantage.

“I’m a street cop, Captain. I don’t want to sit in an office and push paper.” She held his gaze. “There’s still work to be done on the case my team’s been investigating.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Organized crime is going to work with the DA firming up the cases against the distributors. They’ve all lawyered up at this point anyhow, so there’s nothing that you need to do there. The paperwork on the individual arrests can be handled by some of the detective ones and our clerks.” He leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk. “Look, Sergeant, I’m expected to deliver you to the promotion ceremony in person. The press department is ready to announce it. Don’t jam me up on this.”

“I wasn’t talking about tying up last night’s loose ends, sir. I was talking about the other aspects of my investigation which are still open—including the source of an inside leak that fingered Sloan and maybe Jimmy and Jeff.”

His eyes narrowed. “Those are serious allegations, Sergeant.”

“Yes sir, I’m aware of that.” She played her final card. “You might be interested to know, Captain, that whoever’s been pilfering files and leaking the details of confidential police operations made things look like you were the source of the leak.”

His mahogany features darkened dangerously, and he said stiffly, “How?”

“Computer intrusions that track back to you. It’s complicated—I’d need Sloan to lay it all out for you.”

“Why am I just hearing about this now?”

“Because until very recently, I didn’t have enough facts to bring them to you.” She didn’t see any reason that he needed to know everything that she knew, or when she knew it. Or that for a while she had seriously suspected that he was guilty.

“And now you do?”

“Nearly the whole package. With the right team, I can give you a direct link to Zamora—the same person who’s responsible for setting up Jimmy Hogan and Jeff Cruz. We’re close, Captain.” And while I’m at it, I’m going to find out where Zamora’s people are getting the girls to keep his sex businesses running.

He studied her contemplatively, and Rebecca knew that he was figuring his angles just as she was working hers. She wondered what the price would be.

“Let’s say I approved a special high profile case unit within our division, with you as the lead, reporting directly to me. You’ll accept the promotion?” He tried to read her response, but saw only the cool blue gaze. The Chief had already the floated the idea to him, but Frye didn’t need to know that. Or why the offer was on the table.

“I get to choose my own people, and,” she added quickly, “I want official department recognition for my civilian consultants.” If I can talk Sloan into doing anything official.

He leaned back, a shadow of a smile on his face. “We might be able to work something out. Of course, there might be a few conditions.”

She waited, because there always were—and it was his move.

Henry picked up the phone and punched an extension. “Send him in.”

Rebecca turned her head at the sound of the door opening behind her and met the flat stare of Avery Clark, the Department of Justice agent who had headed the defunct joint task force and who had usurped the evidence and the arrest that belonged to her team.