“Sure I would,” Steve told her. “Hell, I’ll take you any way I can get you. Do you remember how you landed the job at the radio station?”

“I nagged you. I was obnoxious. I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I hounded you for months.”

“I can make all that look like amateur hour… if I have to. Of course, I doubt I’ll have to.”

Daisy paused with her fork in midair. “Oh?”

“I have a secret weapon.”

“What is it?”

He ate a piece of bacon. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it?”

“Dumb,” Daisy said. “This is the dumbest conversation ever. I have to get to work.” She took her empty plate to the sink and rinsed it. “Elsie, I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

“Okay. All I need is my pocketbook. What car are we taking?”

Daisy stopped at the kitchen door. “I forgot about the cars.”

“Take the black car,” Steve said. “I’m staying home for most of the day. There should be carpenters arriving any minute, I need to make arrangements to have new carpet put down, and I need to do something about getting the Ford SUV repaired.” He kicked back from the table and stacked the plates.

When Daisy came flying down the stairs he was waiting at the front door. He reached out for her as she skimmed past, spun her around, and pulled her to him with enough speed to make her breath catch in her throat. The kiss was long and deep, stirring the embers of desire until he was sure they were glowing hot, ready to flame. His hands gentled when he broke from the kiss.

“Be careful out there,” he said. He watched her sway for a moment, her eyes unfocused, and knew he’d accomplished his goal.

Daisy turned without a word. She left the house, got into the black car beside Elsie, and gripped the steering wheel, wondering how she was going to drive when her body was humming in private places and her mind was filled with erotic thoughts of Steve Crow.

“You okay?” Elsie said. “You look kinda dopey.”

“I’m fine.” And she definitely wasn’t dopey, she thought. In fact, she was pretty smart. She’d figured out Steve’s secret weapon. Now all she had to do was figure out how to survive it.

It was five-thirty when Daisy and Elsie got back to the house. The windows had been replaced and the grounds repaired. Inside, two men were still laying new carpet.

“The police haven’t found your car yet,” Steve told Elsie. “You’re going to have to go down to the station and sign some forms. Tomorrow I’ll ride with Daisy, and you can have the day off.”

Kevin ambled in from the kitchen. “This has been an utterly cool day,” he said to Daisy. “Bob and I made a cake. And then we ate it. If you’re nice to me, I might give you the recipe for your next cookbook.”

“Maybe I’ll call my next book Bones for Bob and Kevin. Is that the extent of the coolness, or did something else awesome happen?”

“Mom called. Boy, are you in big trouble. She saw your picture on the evening news in Texas. They played the clip where they said you were the oil tycoon’s live-in girlfriend.”

“Great. I hope you set her straight.”

“I tried, but it was tough, what with all the yelling going on.”

“I got a TV show I want to catch,” Elsie said. “One of them cable stations is running an Errol Flynn festival.”

“Is that the guy with the sword and the cheesy mustache?” Kevin said, following Elsie into the family room.

“There isn’t anything cheesy about any part of Errol Flynn,” she told him. “He was what you call a swashbuckler. He could have grown any kind of mustache he wanted.”

“Hope you’re hungry,” Steve said to Daisy. “I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day making spaghetti sauce.”

Daisy looked in the pot. “I’m impressed. This smells terrific.”

“Of course. It’s my specialty.” He slid his arms around her waist and deposited a lingering kiss at the nape of her neck.

“Forget it,” she said. “I know what your secret weapon is, and it’s not going to work.”

“That’s because you haven’t tasted it yet. No woman has been able to resist my secret weapon once they’ve sat down and feasted on it.”

Daisy’s mouth dropped open. “That’s… outrageous!”

“You’re going to want to have seconds, and thirds, then when you wake up tomorrow you’re going to have an insatiable craving to eat more for breakfast.”

“What an ego!”

His voice was silky. “It’s all in the spices.”

“Wait a minute. What are you talking about?”

“My spaghetti sauce, of course.My secret weapon. Everyone always loves my spaghetti sauce.”

“Sure. I knew that.”

“What did you think we were talking about?”

Her gaze inadvertently slid below his waist.

“You thought that was my secret weapon?”

“Of course not. I knew it was the spaghetti sauce. You men are all alike. You think all it takes is a pot of hot tomatoes to turn us women into slavering idiots. I suppose you thought one look at your sauce would have me panting. Well, let me tell you something, buster, it takes more than spaghetti sauce to weaken my resolve.”

“Want to know what we’re having for dessert?”

“No!”

He dumped spaghetti into boiling water and took a bowl of freshly grated cheese from the refrigerator. “As long as we’re on the subject, I want to clear the air a little. I don’t want to push you into a marriage you don’t want.”

“No?”

“My intention is to hang around until you decide you’re going to go nuts and start screaming and foaming at the mouth if you don’t get… married.”

“And you think your cooking is good enough to do that, huh?”

“Do you want a serious answer, or do you want to flirt some more?”

“Serious answer,” she said.

“There’s always been a physical attraction between us that borders on the frightening. I’d be a fool not to use it to my advantage. But I’d be an even bigger fool if I thought that was enough to sustain a marriage.”

“We haven’t known each other for very long.”

“We haven’t been best friends and lovers for very long, but we’ve known each other for almost a year.”

It was true, Daisy thought. Knowing him wasn’t the problem. Loving him wasn’t the problem either. The love grew stronger every day. The problem was with timing. It was the wrong time.

“I don’t have the emotional strength to make a life decision right now.”

“I understand that, but I’m not going to let my soul mate slip through my fingers just because I fell in love with her at the wrong time.”

“So where does that leave us?” Daisy asked.

He nudged against her, his mouth caressing the rim of her ear when he spoke. “I suppose it brings us back to my secret weapon.”

“Spaghetti sauce?”

“Spaghetti sauce is only the beginning.” His hand snaked under her shirt as he kissed her neck and lowered his mouth to her collarbone. “Wait until you taste my brownies.”

She shivered. “Oh Lord,” she whispered, “I love brownies.” She felt him stir against her and hazily thought his ultimate secret weapon was in the process of losing its secret status. “We shouldn’t be doing this in the kitchen,” she said. “Elsie and Kevin…”

He sighed and pushed her to arm’s length. “You’re right. Besides, I think the spaghetti is done.”

When the table was set, they called everyone in from the TV room. Bob was the first one to the table. He bounded in and took a seat, thumping his two front paws on either side of a place setting. His ears were perked, his eyes were bright. “Woof!” he said, smiling and panting.

Elsie took a seat across from him. “Didn’t anybody ever tell him he was a dog?”

“Get down,” Steve said to Bob. “Dogs don’t eat at the table.”

Bob didn’t budge.

Steve reached out to snag Bob’s collar and Bob growled low in his throat.

“Maybe he thinks eating on the floor is unsanitary,” Elsie said. “I wouldn’t want to eat on the floor.”

Kevin pulled an extra chair up next to Bob and got himself another place setting. “I think Bob’s a real cool dude. I bet he’s not actually a dog at all. He was probably some yuppie out jogging and aliens got hold of him and turned him into a dog.” He piled spaghetti and sauce on Bob’s plate. “You want cheese?”

“Woof!”

“Kinda cute,” Elsie said. “In a bizarre sort of way.”

Daisy giggled. “All he needs is a tie.”

That clinched it for Steve. Anything that could elicit a giggle from Daisy was okay by him. He gave Bob a piece of garlic bread and passed the bread basket to Daisy. “I got a chance to listen to a few of your traffic reports today. They sounded very professional.”

She beamed at the compliment. “It’s getting easier.”

“Did Schmidt stick with you?”

“Like glue.”

“Any more attempts on your life? Any more messages from the maniac? You accidentally thwart any crimes?”

“No,” she said. “It was a perfectly boring day. Thwarting was at an all-time low.”

One of the workmen laying carpet came into the dining room. “There been a death in the family?” he asked. “You expecting a visit from the president?”

“No,” Steve said. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“There’s a black limo parking in front of your house. It’s about a half mile long, and I think it’s being driven by Antonio Banderas.”

Steve grinned. “It’s only a wild guess, but I’d say my mother’s been talking to Aunt Zena.”

Before Steve had a chance to leave the table, Schmidt appeared in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I need to clear some visitors. They say they’re your parents?”

“Is the man tall and inscrutable? Did he try to bribe you?” Steve asked.

“He’s tall and inscrutable,” Schmidt said. “He hasn’t tried to bribe me yet.”

“Well, if he does, take the money. He’s my father.”

There was a short commotion in the hall, and Daisy felt a flutter of nerves when Steve rose to greet his parents. The woman was slim and elegant, from the tips of her freshly manicured nails to the shining mane of thick, black hair. She was small-boned, with a classically beautiful face. Her eyes were large and dark, and it was easy to imagine them smoldering with passion. Steve had his mother’s eyes, Daisy thought. The rest of him was Crow. With the exception of the deep lines etched into his fa-ther’s face and a few extra pounds, they were almost mirror images.

“There’s a dog sitting at your table,” Steve’s mother said. “And he’s eating spaghetti.”

“That’s Bob,” Steve told her. “And this is Kevin Adams, Daisy Adams, and Elsie Hawkins. Can you stay for supper? I have plenty of spaghetti.”

“Of course I’ll stay for supper,” his mother said. “It isn’t every day I get to eat with a dog.” She pulled a chair up next to Elsie. “Maria Crow,” she said, extending her hand. “Are you related to Daisy?”

“Nope. I work for the radio station. I’m her bodyguard.”

“And what about the two policemen sitting in that drab little car outside?”

“They’re guarding her body, too,” Elsie said. “They were assigned after the firebombing.”

“Firebombing?” Maria Crow arched her delicate black eyebrows.

Steve and Daisy were scrambling to add place settings and get Steve’s father seated. They paused and exchanged horrified glances. “It was only one bomb, and it was very small,” Steve said. “Hardly worth mentioning.” He handed his mother a glass of red wine. “What do you think of my house?”

She sipped her wine and thoughtfully studied the room. “It’s nice. Not too big, not too small. I’ve never been especially fond of suburbia and tract houses, but this house has a friendly feeling to it. It even has a dog.” She looked over at Bob. He’d finished his spaghetti and was eating a bowl of salad. “He is a dog, isn’t he? He’s not some small person dressed up in a dog suit?”

“We were just discussing that,” Steve said. “We aren’t actually sure.”

Maria smiled at Daisy and Elsie. “Steve always wanted a dog, but our lifestyle never lent itself to house pets. Looking at it in retrospect, I probably should have rearranged our lifestyle for a while.”

“I was one of those overprivileged deprived children,” Steve said to Daisy. “I was forced to spend all of my time skiing and sailing.”

Maria smiled at her son. “I know you enjoyed the skiing and sailing, but I think deep down inside you would rather have had a dog.”

“As you can see I’m making up for lost time. I’ve got Bob now.”

Bob looked up when his name was mentioned and a piece of lettuce fell out of his mouth.

“We have to work on his table manners,” Steve said.

“All things considered they’re not so bad,” his mother said. “He’s neater than your Uncle Lou.”

That brought a smile to Joseph Crow’s lips. “I’m going to tell Lou you said that,” he chided his wife.

Maria looked at her husband and laughed, and Daisy realized that theirs was a rock-solid relationship. There was genuine affection here, Daisy decided. Uncle Lou was undoubtedly one of a myriad of family jokes and shared experiences that helped compose the strata of a long and successful marriage.