The Protector. Jule McBride

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      Telling himself not to notice, he said dryly, “Do I?”

      “Just like one of those smiley faces,” Judith assured him. “In fact, if they ever do a smiley face movie, Steele, you could be a body double.”

      “I’ll have McFee issue a filming permit immediately.”

      “Really,” she continued, “you don’t look so hot.”

      “Quite the opposite.”

      The heat wave had turned his precinct into a madhouse, tempers all over the city were burning out of control, and he’d been putting out fires all day—quite literally, due to an arson case. It had been the wrong moment to hear that Judith was about to float through the squad room on those endless legs. Since he’d received a heads-up call from the parking lot, Sully had at least been somewhat prepared—as prepared as he ever could be for Judith Hunt—so had taken his time in studying her easy, unencumbered stroll across the squad room. By the time she breezed into his office, he felt like a member of the angry mob outside, not an officer trained to subdue them.

      He shot her a sweet smile. “Well, Ms. Hunt, we can’t all be blessed with your chipper demeanor, you know.”

      “Ah,” she replied, her smile just as saccharine, the awareness sparking in her eyes making him wonder if she wasn’t secretly enjoying the repartee, “wouldn’t the world be a better place if everyone had my sunny disposition?”

      That would be the day. At least she knew she was a control freak. What other kind of person would wear a jacket when the mercury shot over a hundred? “Have a nice time on your desert island?” He hadn’t bothered to rise from his seat behind his desk—secretly, Sully was thinking he might faint from heatstroke if he did—and now he nodded toward a chair. “Care for a seat?”

      “Thanks,” she said, but didn’t take it. “It wasn’t exactly a vacation, Steele.”

      No, she’d been down there looking for his father. “Well,” Sully conceded, “it didn’t exactly turn out to be the most productive month for you, either.” His brother Rex had fared better on Seduction Island, finding out their father was definitely alive. But Sully figured he’d keep that to himself.

      Her chin reset defensively. “Excuse me?”

      “You haven’t found my father,” he returned, wishing she’d sit. Every second she remained standing, insisting on towering over him, he was tempted to rise, and since he was sweltering, he’d much prefer to stay seated. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a seat?” he prompted again. “Believe me, I suggest it solely for my own benefit. If I have to keep staring up at you, Judith, I might get whiplash.”

      She almost smiled at that. Even worse, he almost instinctively smiled back. “So sue me.”

      “Maybe I will. Can I retire on a whiplash settlement?”

      “How would I know?”

      “You’re a lawyer. I thought you all took that class in school—Whiplash 101.” She still looked as though she was fighting a smile, and he was surprised to discover he liked the idea of that—Judith Hunt smiling. Had it ever happened?

      “Bad hair day?” she finally guessed.

      “Something like that,” he said, rifling his fingers through the sweat-dampened strands.

      She clucked her tongue, and for a second, his eyes were mesmerized by the crimson mouth. Even in this heat, her lip liner hadn’t melted. “Poor baby,” she commiserated, her mouth quirking. “Now that you mention it, Steele, I can actually see the gray.”

      “Better than a receding hairline,” he retorted a bit defensively.

      “You’ve got a point there.”

      He sighed, getting down to business. “I hear you gave Rex a hard time on the island.”

      Now that they were back on topic, she gaped at him, her bottom lip edging over the top, where sweat was starting to bead. It was Sully’s only consolation. Apparently, in her ridiculously dressy jacket, she was as miserable as he. “Your brother was interfering in my investigation. I warned you before I left that if he—”

      “He was looking for our father,” Sully interjected. “Somebody had to do it.”

      “I was doing it,” she shot back. “And if your brother found out anything, he didn’t share the information.”

      “Information moves on a two-way street.” It wasn’t the first time Sully had said it.

      “I called you. And I’m standing in your office right now. How much more goodwill do you want?” She blew out a short breath. “What have you found out since we last spoke?”

      “Not a thing,” he replied lightly, though he knew his father was alive. Sully wanted a chance to speak with him before he was found by Internal Affairs. “You?”

      Looking as if the heat wasn’t doing wonders for her disposition, either, she crossed her arms over her chest. “So, that’s the way you’re going to play today?”

      “I’m not playing.” Suddenly rising to his feet, he circled the desk, moving lithely for a man of his size, and then leaned against it. “You want the truth, Judith?”

      Her eyes turned hungry. “Yes.”

      She thought he was going to divulge information about his father. Instead, Sully said, “The truth is, it’s been a helluva week. I’m hot and tired, and while it wouldn’t be apparent to anyone on Seduction Island, the wheels of justice in Manhattan have ground to a halt because everybody’s on summer vacation. I can’t get warrants, and I’m battling a heat wave that’s doubling the number of complaint calls.”

      “The whole city’s having a heat wave, not just you, Steele. I’m trying to get courts orders, too. And if it bothers you so much—” she nodded toward his chest “—why don’t you take off the jacket?”

      Because she was wearing one. No doubt, this was Judith’s way of finagling how to take off hers without losing face. “As a precinct captain,” he said, shooting her a quick smile, “I have a certain image to project.” Image? he thought. Of what? A sweating pig? Every man in the squad room knew Sully never wore a jacket unless the parking attendant called to say Judith was on her way up.

      “Isn’t it substance we need to concern ourselves with?”

      “I guess, if you feel a lack of it.”

      “Which brings me to your father.”

      “Nice segue.”

      “Thanks.” With a sudden sharp inhalation, Judith took him by surprise and did the unthinkable: she shrugged out of her jacket. When Sully saw the airy white, short-sleeved blouse beneath, he suddenly felt much more amiable. It was nearly transparent, and the white lace of a bra was visible beneath. The temperature in the room, already boiling, seemed to crank up another few notches, not that Sully minded now.

      “That’s why I came up to see you, Steele,” she reminded him. “Your father.”

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