before.”
“I don’t think of Angel Butte as home. Why would I? I haven’t so much as set foot in town in eighteen years.”
“So why now?” he persisted.
“The job’s really perfect—”
He didn’t let her finish. “I thought you were aiming for a career in academia. Isn’t that why you went back for the PhD?”
Her shrug was jerky. “I’m not so sure anymore. No matter what, I want more real-life experience before I consider going into teaching. And, like I said, getting out of Seattle seemed like a good idea right now.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently.
Her eyes met his. Hers were bright with...something. Anguish? Fear? Nothing he liked. But she only shook her head. “Not right now, okay?”
His fingers tightened on the tiled edge of the countertop, but he tried to hide his reaction from her. “You know I’m here for you.”
Her head bobbed. Her “yes” came out as a whisper. “I suppose...that’s why I came. Because you always said that.” She tried to smile. “I’m hoping you aren’t dismayed to have me take you up on your offer.”
“Never,” he told her, making sure she heard how serious he was. “You’re my family.”
After a moment, she nodded again, then cleared her throat. “So, what can you tell me about the mayor and city council and everyone else I’d be working with if I take this job?”
His grunt wasn’t quite a laugh. “That’ll take me all evening. But let’s start with the mayor.”
CHAPTER TWO
RUTH KNOCKED LIGHTLY and stuck her head around the door. “Ms. McAllister is here, Mayor.”
Noah looked up from Cait’s résumé, which he’d been reviewing. “Good. Send her in.”
He hoped she wasn’t a disappointment. He’d interviewed two candidates so far and been underwhelmed by both. Her, he had a good feeling about—unless she was Colin McAllister’s sister, a relationship bound to taint their association.
He rose from behind his desk just as she walked in. Tall, slim and beautiful. Stunned, he probably gaped. Hair cut short to lay in feathery wisps around her face was darker than honey and sun-streaked. She wore heels, black trousers and a formfitting, short royal blue blazer over a simple white camisole. Gold hoops in her ears. Her stride was lithe, her smile pleasant and luminous gray eyes wary.
And—hell—he knew those eyes, color and shape.
“You have to be related to Captain McAllister,” he said.
Her smile didn’t falter. “That’s right. He’s my brother.”
“Ah.” He held out his hand anyway.
She studied it for a moment that stretched a little too long before allowing him to envelop her much more slender hand. It was unexpectedly chilly to the touch. Resisting the temptation to hold on, maybe take her other hand and warm both, Noah let her go and nodded toward the grouping of chairs around a low circular bird’s-eye maple table that gave him a comfortable place to hold long conversations.
“Coffee?” he asked. “Or tea or water or...?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
He waited until she chose a chair and sat before doing the same himself. They looked at each other for a long minute. He wondered how she saw him. He wasn’t a handsome man. The face he saw in the mirror every morning was downright ugly, in his opinion. Maybe unfortunately, it suited his aggressive, straight-to-his-goal, probably brusque personality. On the other hand, he’d never had any trouble getting women. This one had to have heard an earful from her brother, though.
Yeah, so? he asked himself, irritated. This was a job interview, not a date. If he didn’t hire her, she wouldn’t stay in town. If he did, he’d be her direct supervisor. Coming on to her wasn’t an option.
Ignoring the inconvenient attraction, he started with the usual chitchat. She had lived in Angel Butte only until she was ten, she explained, at which point her parents had divorced and she had moved away with her mother. Yes, she had to admit that her brother’s residence here had something to do with her interest in the advertised position.
Noah hesitated, but he decided to get this out of the way before either of them wasted any more time. “Are you aware that your brother and I have our differences?”
“Yes.”
That was all. Yes. Even her expression didn’t alter.
He pushed a little harder. “Is that going to be a problem?”
One sculpted eyebrow quirked slightly higher than the other. “It won’t be unless I take the position and you fail to back me up when I need your support.” The emphasis on “me” was there, but subtle enough he couldn’t call her on it.
Annoyed for a different reason now, he met her challenging stare. He’d have had no trouble labeling her as an ice princess, except that her eyes were the furthest thing from cold. There was one hell of a lot going on in her, but she was repressing it. Only those big, shimmering gray eyes gave her away.
He didn’t see what he could do but nod although he felt his jaw muscles spasm. “All right. Let’s talk about your background.”
They dived right in. Her dissertation had to do with the cultural assumptions that led, and sometimes misled, urban planning. She had the academic stuff down pat—she talked about natural resources, engineering, public decisions, leadership and the conflicts inherent in those elements.
Insofar as he understood what the position entailed, he aimed his questions at finding out how practical her knowledge was versus ivory-tower theory and idealism. She got right down to the nitty-gritty, talking about planning, sure, but also code compliance, her ability to evaluate complex data, read and interpret plans, specifications, maps and engineering drawings. They ended with a heavy focus on the people-management component. She would be directly supervising an assistant director, chief of building inspectors, administrative services manager and others. She claimed understanding the real needs of citizens was her first priority, followed by balancing the goals she set with the reality of dealing with politicians, developers, landowners, protesters. They talked about the frequent presentations she’d be giving to city council committees, civic groups and more.
She asked about those committees, and he tried to give her a sense of city council personalities and how they related to the Infrastructure Advisory Board, the Arts, Beautification and Culture Committee and Economic Development Committee, all of which would demand her involvement.
Cait McAllister remained poised, articulate and knowledgeable. She never faltered. She was so damn cool, he tried to shake her, jumping topics from zoning to budgets, EPA requirements, water reclamation, citizens versus tourists. Nothing. She jumped with him.
She’d driven around town this morning, she told him, and already had some observations.
“I admit,” she commented, “that I was dismayed by the, er, shopping strip that was my first impression of Angel Butte.”
“All that was county until an extensive annexation took place a year ago.”
“I imagine that was good for the tax base.”
“Yes and no.” He ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the scrape of whiskers. “The campaign for the annexation was intelligently run. Unfortunately, nobody did any planning to speak of for handling the newly annexed areas. Your brother may have talked to you about the challenge it provided the police department. Our former mayor and a good part of the city council were opposed to expanding the number of officers in the department. Instead, they were spread so thin, in no time problems arose. I imagine it goes without saying that we’ve had plenty of other similar