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DONATA TOLD HERSELF that this man probably had no idea how badly his timing sucked.

In fact, she told herself repeatedly while she contemplated the added calories of coffee creamer and decided she’d rather not do the extra sit-ups required and she’d really rather not have this discussion with a man who’d caused her so much grief.

“You give yourself a lot of credit, don’t you?” She turned to face him, clutching her coffee cup and hoping her nosier colleagues could restrain themselves from wandering in for at least a few minutes. No doubt the whole place would be buzzing about her run-in with the man whose accusations had been her biggest obstacle to overcome in securing a spot on the force.

Damn him for showing up today when she should be formulating a plan to unearth a first-degree pervert who was filming girls in their home bedrooms and then mass-marketing their mistakes for public consumption.

“Honestly, no. I only asked because the incident seems like it’s not going away until we deal with it, and I’ve really got to talk to you about your new investigation.”

His sudden switch to seeming forthrightness caught her off guard even though that was exactly the same way he’d snuck under her radar long ago. She hadn’t known what to make of a direct man back then and she sure as hell didn’t know what to make of him now.

Everything about Sean Beringer was entirely too good-looking. He was the kind of man Donata had always avoided because she suspected a man like him would require far too much work. A woman who succumbed to an exterior that attractive would certainly spend half her time beating off other women with a stick. And—from a purely practical standpoint—a man like him would have to devote too much time to battling temptation continually waved under his nose.

He was tall, loose-limbed, broad shouldered. A hot body currently clothed in jeans, a Mets T-shirt and a long wool coat that a more discerning dresser would have paired with a suit. But the incongruity of the dress coat and the T-shirt did nothing to detract from the dark male beauty of deep-set hazel eyes under angular brows.

“What would you know about my caseload?” She sipped the coffee and wondered where Mick had gone. Shouldn’t her partner be in on this conversation? He probably even knew Sean since they’d no doubt crossed paths when they were both detectives.

“I’ve still got a crony or two I can call on when I’m keeping tabs on a particular case.” He leaned back against an ancient soda machine and watched her through his heavy-lidded eyes.

Had the ballistics guy—Vitalis, she seemed to remember—given Sean insider information? She’d seen them talking earlier when she first spied Sean, but she didn’t want to believe the firearms analyst would do anything remotely shady. He struck her as an upstanding guy despite his intimidating looks.

“And just what are you keeping tabs on lately?” She knew he’d had a special interest in her former boyfriend, a mobster type she’d eventually sold out when she learned what kind of person he was beneath the expensive veneer.

It had taken her a long time to see herself as more than a naive female who’d fallen for a Svengali-style lover in an effort to get away from a crappy upbringing. But she was more than that. Her record on the force proved it and no innuendo from Sean Beringer could make her think otherwise.

“An adult filmmaking outfit that packages their illegal webcam footage as reality porn. I heard an arrest was made out on Long Island last week after a girl was molested by a guy who contacted her on the Internet.”

Instantly alert, Donata was more than willing to put aside a good grudge against Beringer—temporarily at least—for the sake of her case. On a trip into Manhattan, Sara Chapman had indeed been molested by an older man she thought was a high school guy after a few online chats. Patrol officers had captured the perp without much trouble, but apparently further questioning revealed her molester had found her through her picture on a Web site advertising a reality porn DVD.

Her parents were devastated. Sara wasn’t talking.

“Are you working for the family of the girl?” She knew rich people sometimes hired outside P.I. help if they were concerned the police couldn’t get the job done.

“I’ve got a more personal interest. I’ve been following this case since you and I crossed paths four years ago.”

She waited for him to continue, but he just turned and snatched another doughnut instead, wolfing half of it down and showering the break room floor with powdered sugar.

“Obviously there’s more to this story if you’re still pursuing leads on a case this old. Why don’t I grab my partner and we can—”

“No.” Sean imprisoned her arm before she could turn away to find Mick. “Don’t you think we ought to work out the issues that are ours alone first before we go involving anyone else?”

His touch communicated to her more quickly than his words, the heat of his hand penetrating her jacket and warming her skin beneath. How long had it been since a man had touched her?

“Actually, no.” She pulled out of his grip and set her coffee aside to devote her full attention to the conversation. “Private discussions were how we ended up in trouble last time, remember?”

Her heart pounded strangely, making her hyperaware of her body and the heat simmering inside it.

“No problems with remembering here.” He held up his hands like a suspect trying to remind her he didn’t have a weapon.

Except that he did. Sean Beringer possessed a boatload of sexual attraction that Donata didn’t want any part of.

“Then why don’t you let me get Mick and we’ll make sure there are no more…incidents.”

It was tough to think with him standing so close to her and suddenly she wanted to flee as far and fast as she could. A stupid reaction since she was on a four-year quest to prove to herself she was a woman of strength and integrity. But nothing made her feel weak as quickly as attraction to a man.

“Did you really think I was sexually harassing you back then?” Sean’s forehead furrowed enough to let her know the idea bothered him.

“I—” She hesitated, not sure how to explain. “I thought you were hitting on me.”

Her pulse fluttered in her throat at the memory of being in an interrogation room with him. She’d been working as an informant for the FBI, a position that left her in uncomfortable limbo selling out the ex-boyfriend she’d grown to despise but still needed to stay with. She’d looked like a guilty mobster’s girlfriend to the outside world but inside she knew she was just a blind, stupid idiot who fell for a much older man with a worldly edge that appealed to dopey girls with no judgment.

“For the record, I would never hit on anyone in my custody when I was a cop, and I wouldn’t think of it now that I’m a P.I.” He backed away from her slowly, his dark eyes steady on her face. “I know I messed up your investigation with the arrest and I take full blame for not doing my homework where you were concerned. But I guarantee I’d never make a move on someone I arrested.”

Gulping down more coffee to clear her head of wayward thoughts, Donata wondered if Sean ever hit on lady cops he worked with. A wholly inappropriate notion. She seriously needed to think about finding a lover to take the sexual edge off for her before she combusted from four years’ worth of pent-up frustrations.

“Donata.” A male voice called to her from the door and she looked up to see Mick holding his car keys.

“You’re leaving?” She swallowed the urge to drag him into the break room by his collar. She needed the barrier of his presence to make sure her thoughts didn’t linger on Sean as that potential lover.

“The school called. Katie’s not in class today even though I dropped her off at school at seven-thirty.” His square jaw tightened. “She’s probably just playing hooky at a friend’s house, but she’s not answering her phone.”

“Do you need help?” Concern for Mick’s daughter had her halfway across the room.

“No. Just cover for me here.” He nodded tersely at Sean. A nod of recognition. “I’ll head out to Massapequa after I locate Katie and see what I can learn from the parents of the Chapman girl. I have the feeling the Long Island police will try to move jurisdiction there, but we’re fighting to keep this case since she was molested in our jurisdiction.”

Which meant she’d get stuck here with Sean. Alone.

“Call me when you find out anything.” She could manage without Mick, couldn’t she? She certainly owed him the time to take care of his family when he’d always been so good to her.

His support on the force had bought her far more credibility than her arrest record as a beat cop.

“Will do.” He was gone two seconds later, leaving her in a precinct crowded with officers who resented her presence on the force and a P.I. who had every reason in the world to want to see her fail.

Donata against the world.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

She spun on her heel to face Sean and caught him staring at her from his new perch on the break room table. Right beside the doughnuts. He’d obviously served his time on the police force given his love of the profession’s notorious indulgence.

“Alone at last.” He smiled crookedly at her as he tossed a balled-up napkin in the trash can and slid off the table to stand. “You think we can head somewhere more private now to clear up a few things? Seems like we both have reasons to want to keep this quiet.”

“We can leave the precinct, but I don’t have much time.” Life experience had taught her not to linger with men who made her uncomfortable and she had no intention of ignoring that hard-won wisdom now when Sean’s proximity made her skin heat and her throat go dry.


SEAN SENSED THE runaround when Donata tried to claim she suddenly needed to interview a witness on the NYU campus that afternoon. He tagged along for the ride, figuring she needed to settle down after the sudden way he’d reappeared.

But he drew the line at stepping into the role of her partner while she ran around New York pretending she didn’t feel the sizzle that had damn well always been there between them.

Harassment my ass.

Maybe ice queen Donata had no clue what attraction felt like so she’d rather label it unwanted attention and shove it away from her with both hands than own up to her feelings. Whatever her reasons, he wasn’t letting her stall tactics trip him up.

“I’m not going with you to interview any suspect that isn’t directly related to the filmmaker case.” He nodded toward a park bench in Washington Square, where students congregated between classes despite the recent bout of unseasonably cold October weather. “Have a seat and we can exchange information so I can let you go about your day in peace, okay?”

She hesitated when her cell phone rang and she took the call with brusque efficiency before hitting the off button.

“Sorry about that, but I’ve got a lot on my plate today.” She cinched the belt on her dark wool coat tighter. “Maybe we should reschedule this so we have more time?”

“So we have to wade through the awkwardness of seeing each other all over again?” He resisted the urge to pull her to the damn bench and sit her down because he remembered how much any extraneous touching set her off.

But damn. She was a tough case.

“You’re right,” she relented finally, walking toward the vacant bench under her own steam, her soft breath making a visible puff in the cold air. “I’d appreciate any information you can give me on the illegal filmmaker. I look forward to sending that particular creep to prison for a very long time.”

“I don’t think the actual producer is illegal.” Sean didn’t have any intention of sharing everything with her since he had worked his tail off to hunt down the bastard for himself.

“Of course he’s illegal if he’s filming underage girls.” She filched two napkins from a coffee kiosk nearby and swiped them across the bench before taking a seat.

“What I mean to say is that he probably dabbles on both sides of the business—legitimate and illegal—so that he’s covering his butt with one for the other.” He couldn’t disguise the bitterness in his voice.

“You think he’s distributing porn through traditional film venues?” She kept her voice low in deference to the hundreds of people who passed through the square even though no one paid them any attention. They were more alone here among hundreds than they had been in a precinct break room.

“No. I think he distributes the illegal stuff mainly online, but he cloaks his operations behind the front of a legitimate filmmaker.” He knew all of it to be fact, actually, but he didn’t want to reveal how deeply he’d immersed himself in this investigation just yet. And for all his efforts, he still didn’t have a name to go with the profile.

“So how did you get involved with this shining example of humanity?” She tucked her hands into her coat pockets and stared out over the crowd gathering around two guys in red superhero capes who were playing guitars in exchange for donations.

“I left the force because my kid sister was molested by some guy she met on the Internet and the cops wouldn’t do jack shit to nail the bastard.” He dug a couple of bucks out of his wallet for the street musicians, appreciating the way the folk songs provided some mental distance from what he was saying.

Donata remained silent. Listening. Waiting.

“The guy who met her online found out who she was after a video of my sister had been distributed without her knowledge. When she was eighteen, she had a webcam set up to send video of herself to her boyfriend but apparently the dude forwarded pictures to some trash sites with her personal information attached. That’s how this other guy found her.”

“Is she okay now?” Donata’s hand landed gently on his arm, the unexpected touch more comfort than he would have expected from someone as seemingly reserved as her.

“She’s put it behind her pretty successfully. In fact she lives ten states away and it pisses her off that I’m still on a quest to bring down the whole operation since it brings back bad memories. But I can’t stand the idea of kids unknowingly exposing themselves to scumbags who will turn around and sell video snippets for a profit.”

“And you’ve been after this group for how long?”

“I’d just started the investigation when I arrested you, so I guess it’s been four years. But I’m on the verge of cracking the power behind the ring now…as long as the cops don’t elbow their way in and mess up the sting I’ve got in the works.”

Okay, that was a stretch. But he had names and addresses for hundreds of people who subscribed to the sites specializing in youthful exhibitionists, and that in itself made for powerful information.

“Basically, it’s fourth quarter and you’re asking me to take a knee while the clock runs out.” Her hand slid away from his arm and back into her pocket. The crowd around the guitar players burst into applause at the end of the song.

“Is that a problem when you’re already ahead in the game and victory is imminent?” He suspected from her suddenly rigid spine that she wasn’t liking the idea.

“You forget we’re playing for different teams. I don’t have the luxury of working for myself and making my own calls on handling cases. I’m responsible to my department. To taxpayers.”

Frustration pounded in his head as he began to see the many ways his operation could blow up in his face if the cops started crawling all over things.

“You don’t understand how close I am to smoking out these bastards.” No reasonable person would deny him this opportunity after all the years he’d put into cultivating inside contacts. “I’ve got a girl ready to sell out the filmmakers and put the last nail in the coffin for me.”

If she didn’t change her mind. Sometimes it was tough to tell with connections you’d made online.

“Sean, I appreciate that this case is personal for you, but you can’t ask me to just pretend it doesn’t exist when it comes under my jurisdiction. Half my precinct thinks I’m crooked anyway for reasons I’m sure you can appreciate.”

He knew it had to be tough to cross over into the police world after she’d seen prison bars—if only briefly—from the inside. Still, it said a lot for Donata’s character that she’d managed to wrangle her way into the NYPD at all.

Rising to his feet, Sean tossed the money in the open guitar box at the players’ feet and turned back to her.

“All the more reason to steer clear of this investigation, Donata. The brains and the wallet behind the operation might belong to someone you know well.” He dealt his best card to send her off the case for good. “My sources show your old pal Sergio Alteri is running his business as usual from a prison cell.”

Don't Look Back

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