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rising in her cheeks. Don’t notice, don’t notice, don’t notice .
    He noticed.
    “Good God! You did have wild monkey sex! It’s written all over your face. And frankly, on the left side of your neck, now that I look at you.”
    “It is not!” She lifted a horrified hand to her throat. “Is it?”
    He laughed. “No, but now I know for sure what I only suspected before.” He leaned back smugly. “And may I add, about time.”
    She covered her face with both hands and groaned. “God, I can’t believe I fell for that.”
    “Me either. I mean, you taught me that little trick.”
    “Don’t remind me.” She picked up the pen she’d tossed down in resignation a moment earlier. “Now that you’ve ferreted out the dirty truth, get the hell out of my office, Knopfler. I’ve got work to do.”
    “Knock, knock.”
    Nita glanced up to see Maryanne, the firm’s receptionist, framed in her doorway. Thank goodness. This would send Brad on his way. “What’s up, Maryanne?”
    “There’s a Detective Craig Walker here to see you.”
    “What?” She jumped up from her chair, sending it backwards on its casters. “Did you tell him I’m here?”
    “Omigod!” Brad said.
    Maryanne frowned, sending Brad one of her patented disapproving looks that she seemed to reserve for him. “Of course I told him you were here. Why wouldn’t I?” She turned back to Nita. “Are you on the lam or something? Dodging a summons?”
    “It’s him!” Brad said, oblivious of Maryanne’s evil eye. “You had monkey sex with Detective Walker!”
    Maryanne’s eyes widened. “Nita?”
    Nita sank back onto her chair. “Someone shoot me, please.”
    “Sorry,” Brad quipped. “No sidearm. But if you ask the detective nicely….”
    She sighed. “Okay, both of you — out . Now. And Maryanne, please show Detective Walker in.”
    “Not necessary.” The voice was Craig Walker’s, and it came from her open door. “I showed myself in. I was beginning to get concerned you might rabbit on me.”
    Oh, God, had he heard all of that? She lifted her chin, aiming for dignity. “ Rabbit? Is that your usual experience with a woman on the morning after, Detective?”
    “Only with you.” He glanced pointedly at the other occupants of the room.
    Maryanne cleared her throat. “Well, then, I’ll just get back to my post.” Eyes wide, she sidled past Craig.
    “And I’ll just go next door to my office and press a drinking glass to the wall.”
    “Bradley!”
    “What? I’m just making a point.”
    “Okay, point taken. We’ll take this outside the office.” She turned to Craig. “Detective.”
    He stepped back. “After you.”
    “My car or yours?” he asked when they reached the parking lot.
    His, she deduced, was a slightly muscular looking but spacious Ford Taurus. Hers was a tiny hybrid. They’d be in each other’s laps in her car. “Yours.”
    He led the way to his car, opening the door for her. She slipped inside and waited for him to join her.
    “Look, Craig,” she said, as soon as he’d slipped behind the wheel. “I’m really sorry about this morning. I guess I was a little stunned when Dr. Woodbridge dropped his bombshell. His second bombshell.”
    “So am I. Sorry about this morning, I mean. I shouldn’t have stormed off like that. But before we go there, I gotta ask — what’s with telling everyone back there? I thought you were worried about keeping the whole thing under wraps.”
    She blushed to the roots of her hair. “I didn’t exactly tell anyone. Brad figured it out. I mean, not that I’d spent the night with you , specifically, but that I’d spent a long night with someone. Then Maryanne came in at that exact moment and announced that you were here to see me. I guess I freaked a little, and Brad put two and two together.”
    His mouth tightened. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have come here to your office if I’d thought it would cause you further embarrassment.”
    She grimaced. “I’m not