“Rushing me off so you can call Collin next?” Jack teased.

“No,” she said emphatically.

Damn, he really did know everything.

AND TWO WEEKS later, they had another occasion to celebrate. Albeit, one Jack was a little less enthused about.

“Happy birthday, Jack,” Cameron said as they sat down at one of the bar tables to wait. She’d brought him to Socca restaurant that evening, a neighborhood bistro just a few blocks from her house. “Thirty-five. I think that merits a present or two.”

Jack frowned. “Cameron, I told you not to get me anything.”

“Well, I figured that was one of your seemingly endless supply of orders that I plan to ignore.” She pulled two envelopes out of her purse and set them on the table in front of him. One was large and about an inch thick, the other small but with some sort of object in it. “Choose.”

Jack picked up the larger envelope.

“Good choice,” she said.

Jack opened the envelope and found a thick, multiple-page document. He slid it out and flipped it over. The names on the caption jumped out at him: UNITED STATES OF AMERICA v. ROBERTO MARTINO, et al

It was a criminal indictment, signed by the U.S. attorney herself, charging thirty-four members of Martino’s organization, including Roberto Martino, with over a hundred counts of federal and state law violations. It included everything from racketeering, drug, and firearm charges, to aggravated assault, attempted murder, and murder.

Jack paged silently through the indictment. When he was about halfway through, he slowed and read carefully through the counts pertaining to the murder of the DEA agent he had tried to warn, and his own torture at the hands of Martino’s men. All of which was laid out, paragraph by paragraph, in graphic detail.

“I don’t care if I don’t get them on anything else. I’ll hang them for that alone,” Cameron promised quietly. “I’m going to file it next week. I thought I might as well kick off my new position with a bang.”

Jack slid the indictment back into the envelope. It would be a bang, all right. He reached over and laced his fingers through hers. She knew what the indictment meant to him, but he needed to be certain she wasn’t doing it for the wrong reasons. “Are you sure about this?”

“Definitely. I’ve wanted to try this case for three years.”

“Things could get crazy,” Jack warned her. “You need to be careful how you handle this. Lombard and Silas are nothing in comparison to taking on Roberto Martino.”

“I’ve given a lot of thought as to how we should proceed,” Cameron said. “I’d like to bring in all the agents from the Chicago office, ones from some of the other divisions as well, and execute the arrest warrants in a simultaneous strike. Grab Martino and his guys in one fell swoop so that they don’t have time for a counter-move. I’ll need someone I can count on to lead the task force. I was thinking that should be you. I also think you should be the one to arrest Martino himself.”

Jack considered the implications of everything she had just said. Part of it had him slightly panicked.

Cameron cocked her head, misinterpreting his expression. “I thought you’d want the honor of taking down Martino.”

“Oh, hell yes.”

“Then what’s with the look?”

“It just occurred to me that as U.S. attorney, you’re now in a position of authority over me.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow. “You’re right, Agent Pallas. There is a new sheriff in town.”

“Cute. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

She laughed. “About two weeks.” She pushed the second envelope in front of him. “Don’t forget about your other present.”

Jack picked it up. “I’m thinking nothing can top my sworn enemy’s head on a platter.” He ripped open the envelope and slid out its contents.

He’d been wrong.

Keys and a garage door opener.

Momentarily caught off guard—a rare event for him—Jack looked up at Cameron. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

“I suppose that depends on what you think it means. If you think it means I’m asking you to move in with me, you’d be right.” Her expression turned more serious.

“If you also think it means that I wake up every morning wondering what I did to deserve having you back in my life, well, you’d be right about that, too.”

Jack sat there for a moment, just . . . stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him.

“Come here,” he said huskily. He grabbed her chair and pulled it toward his. He kissed her, softly at first, then his hand moved to her back and pushed her closer as his emotions got the better of him. He pulled back to hold her gaze. “I love you, Cameron. You know that, right?”

She kissed him back, whispering the words in his ear. “I love you, too.”

It took all of Jack’s strength not to haul her out of the restaurant and drag her home right then and there. The combination of everything she’d just said, not to mention the black sweater, slim-fit skirt, and heels she was wearing, was driving him crazy. He threw her a sneaky grin. “I hope you won’t mind skipping dessert tonight. I’ve got to get you alone. I’m dying here.”

“My God, Jack—with a look like that, you two should just get a room. And try not to pick the one with a dead body next to it this time.”

Hearing the familiar male voice, Jack swore under his breath. “Seriously, Cameron—your friends have the worst timing ever.” He turned around and saw Collin standing before him.

“Happy birthday, buddy.” Collin grinned, slapping him on the back. Behind him, Jack could see Wilkins, Richard, Amy, and her husband.

“I invited a few people to help celebrate your birthday,” Cameron said sheepishly. She threw up her hands. “Surprise.”

“We sort of come with the package,” Collin explained. “Think of it as a collective gift from all of us to you: five bona fide annoying and overly intrusive new best friends.”

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving,” Wilkins said.

Jack grinned. “I’m touched. Really. And since it appears I’m going to be moving in, let me be the first to say that all of you are always welcome at my and Cameron’s house. Subject to a minimum of forty-eight hours prior notification.”

When the hostess came by to escort them to their table, Cameron held Jack back from the rest of the group. “You’re okay with this?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s great.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And in answer to your earlier question, I don’t mind skipping dessert. In fact, I already have a dessert planned for when we get home.”

Jack liked the sound of that. “Can I have a hint?”

“It involves me wearing your handcuffs.”

Christ, full-mast. The thought of her naked and at his mercy threw his body into a tailspin. Jack pulled her into a corner where they were out of sight. “The hell with dinner—we’re leaving now,” he growled.

Cameron shook her head coyly. “We can’t leave your party so early. That would be indecent.”

In response to her teasing, Jack put his hands on the wall next to her, pinning her in. “So, Ms. Lynde . . . is that how it’s going to be with you?”

Her eyes flashed devilishly.

“Always.”