Perfect Partners?

She retreated to her office with her usual sense of pride and ownership. This was her business. She’d started it from nothing and it was actually thriving. Over the past few weeks Nadine had let her know that she found the decor rather severe. But Lindsay had chosen everything for its functionality. She loved the furniture’s straight lines and the tranquility of the gray color scheme.

Her own desk was glass and stainless steel. She wheeled up her chair and opened the slick, iMac computer to find her favorite news site. Kicking off her shoes, she scanned the local headlines. She’d just relax with her coffee and prepare her thoughts before—

A timid tap on her door interrupted her. She frowned. “Yes?”

Nadine opened the door with an apologetic smile. “Stanley Hodges is here. He’s early, but you said—”

“That’s fine.” Lindsay tamped down her annoyance as she glanced up from the computer screen. “Send him—”

Her throat closed as her mind disconnected from the present and rewound to the past. To the one, frustrating year she’d spent as a member of the New York Police Department.

The man entering her office was lean and muscular, with whiskey-colored hair and eyes a shade lighter than that. Two years ago she’d thought she’d said goodbye to him forever.

“Hey, partner. It’s been a while.”

For a wild moment her stomach dropped and her pulse quickened. Her ex-partner was looking good, but then he always had—if you liked the clean-cut type. Beyond his boy-next-door looks, however, the polite facade, the pressed khakis and button-down blue shirt, Nathan Fisher was a man with lightning reflexes, who kept his body in top physical condition.

For one year they’d spent pretty much all their working hours together. Since she’d quit the force, they hadn’t crossed paths once, by mutual preference.

So what was he doing here now? She gave herself a moment to regain her equilibrium. Calmly she rearranged the papers in front of her, then finally cleared her throat. “Stanley Hodges, I presume?”

One side of his mouth curved up. The cheeky bastard. He didn’t even apologize, just dropped a clipping onto her desk.

It was her ad from the newspaper.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Maybe the guys at the precinct had put him up to this. They’d all have a good chuckle at her expense later, over lunch.

But Nathan shook his head. “I quit the force. My last day was Friday, October 9, to be precise.”

“What? Why?” This just got stranger and stranger.

“Let’s just say I needed a change.”

“I don’t believe it.”

His eyes darkened. “You’re not the only one.”

This had to be bullshit. But maybe she should play along a little. “Okay. Say it’s true. What are you doing here? You can’t expect me to believe that you want to work for me.”

“I don’t want to work for you,” he agreed.

“Then—?”

“I want to be your partner.”

A four-letter expletive exploded from her mouth.

He wasn’t fazed. “Fisher and Fox Investigations. Sounds good, right?”

“Get out of here.” She pointed at the door. Yeah, right, Fisher and Fox. He was definitely yanking her chain.

“I’m serious, Lindsay. From past experience, you know our skills are complementary.”

She remembered one dark, rainy night, when it had been more than their skills that had been complementary. Hell. Why was she thinking about that? She had to get him out of here. Fast.

“When we were partners, you drove me crazy.”

“You may not always appreciate my style, but you need someone like me around. Bending the rules now and then is one thing, but you don’t bend them. You bulldoze them.” He scooped something from the floor, surprising her when he surfaced with her red pump.

“High heels with your jeans?” He cocked his head assessingly. “Never saw you as the type.”

She snatched the shoe from his hand. She’d bought the Jimmy Choo heels full price, with the last paycheck she’d received from the police department, and she was going to wear them until the three-inch heels were worn down to the ground.

“Either you’ve changed, or I didn’t know you as well as I thought.”

“It’s not a big deal. I happen to like nice shoes.”

“Not enough to wear them, apparently.”

She slipped the shoe onto her foot, then fumbled for the mate. “Every morning when I put on a pair of heels, I’m reminded that I don’t work for a big organization anymore. There is no chain of command. The buck stops with me.” She lifted her chin. “It’s a good feeling.”

Nathan nodded. “I respect that. In fact, I respect a lot of things about you. That’s why I’m here.”

Despite herself, she felt flattered. Hearing Nathan say that he respected her…well, that was something.

Leaving the force had not been an easy decision. As a kid she’d wanted so badly to become a policewoman. After graduating from college and moving to New York City, her goal had been to work for the famous—and sometimes infamous—NYPD. But when she’d finally finished the education and training necessary to entitle her to wear the dark blue uniform, she’d been bitterly disappointed at the reality.

Rather than helping people, she pushed pencils. Investigating a crime as a member of a police force was like wading through waist-deep muck. Regulations and procedures ate away most of her available work hours. She’d wanted to serve her community, to protect society’s weakest members. Instead, criminals thumbed their noses at her and the system as they got away with the same misdemeanors and petty crimes over and over and over.

And then there were the crimes that weren’t so petty…

“You and I want the same thing, Fox. Together we’ll be a force to reckon with.” He planted his hands on her desk and leaned forward. She caught a whiff of his soap, noticed the clean-blunt lines of his fingernails.

He was serious. The realization sent a zap of adrenaline through her bloodstream. She couldn’t help but be intrigued, even though she knew it was a bad idea.

“Why not start a firm of your own? Why partner up with me?”

“Starting a business takes time. You’ve got everything in place here. Plus, you’ve already made a name for yourself. I saw the story in the Daily last month. Impressive.”

She knew the case he was talking about. The Anderson file had started out as a simple missing-persons case. She’d been asked to locate a long-lost uncle who’d been a beneficiary in a multimillion dollar family estate. She’d ended up finding Curtis Anderson, a convicted sex offender on the FBI’s Most Wanted List.

What a buzz that had been. Who knew how many children’s lives would be safer now that Anderson was no longer on the prowl. Talk about job satisfaction.

“You’ve got more cases than you can handle,” Nathan continued. “A good reputation and an ideal location with an excellent long-term lease.”

She couldn’t believe how much he knew about her operation. But then Nathan had always been the sort of investigator who did his homework. He was never tempted to cut corners, the way she sometimes did.

Her instincts were good. Very rarely wrong. Still, occasionally, she had to admit, she’d been burned by her impetuousness. In the past, Nathan had saved her butt more than a few times. He’d also driven her nuts.