Rich-kid psychotherapist and tough New York cop flirt it up, each
playing a role for the unwitting other. Less concerned with
embarrassing pratfalls for her neurotic heroines than many of her
chick-lit sisters, Kwitney (Till the Fat Lady Sings, 1992, etc.)
still wants them to find love, and not a little bit of sex. The
single girl here is Marlowe, a Manhattan psychologist with divorced
parents providing her with distant affection and a trust fund. Joe
is the NYPD detective with more crime smarts than tact. He calls
Marlowe by accident during his investigation of a murder (first of
several) in which the victim was snuffed out apparently after
calling an escort service; thinking that Marlowe is actually an
escort, he tries to get information out of her. Bored with her life
and thinking she'll sex up Joe's as-yet-unpublished dissertation on
role-playing by providing him with some good firsthand experience,
Marlowe plays along, quickly warming up to the role of the hooker
who's about to retire but wouldn't mind one last assignment.
Fortunately, one of her therapy clients is exactly that kind of
escort, providing her with plenty of real know-how. Joe comes off
as a pretty typical Manhattan male, attractive enough to get most
any woman he wants. He knows how to get Marlowe into bed and keep
her happily there, but he has a sharp temper and an emotional core
buried deeper than even a psychologist would want to dig. The
relationship is fitful, playful and exciting, then cold and
hostile, swinging wildly about as each tries to figure out what
game the other is playing, all the while trying to find the killer
to boot. Kwitney deserves credit for not throwing out illogical
roadblocks, and there's a refreshing absence of stock best-friend
characters. Still, the crime subplot is hardly thrilling: sexy
romance with a few welcome twists. (Kirkus Reviews)
After going for more than a year without a date -- a record in
New York City -- Marlowe Riddle has finally met a broodingly sexy,
sharply intelligent man who is clearly interested in making more
than polite conversation. The only problem: Joseph Kain is an NYPD
detective clearly under the mistaken impression that Marlowe is a
call girl.
But while Marlowe does take money for spending time with
strangers in her expensive Upper West Side apartment, she's a
psychologist -- not Manhattan's answer to the Mayflower Madam A
fact she has no intention of telling Joe ... at least not until she
finishes her research project on the "Behavioral Effects of
Disguising Identity."
But Marlowe's not the only one trying to secretively gain
information ... and it's becoming increasingly unclear who is
seducing whom. Because sometimes the only way to learn what a man
really wants ... is to get him on the couch.
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