When I wind up with a roughly equal number of bad dog-ears and good dog-ears, it’s a pretty sure bet that I’m holding a 3-heart book. Killian’s Passion fits that bill -- the standout elements are neutralized by the irritants, leaving me with an “acceptable” read.

Cara Sinclair is an inexperienced private investigator who’s taken on a case close to her heart. She’s looking for the long-lost grandson of her friend and business partner, and she’s pretty sure she’s found him. Killian Shawnessy certainly fits the profile, and he’s even got his grandmother’s eyes. Now all she has to do is bring him to Philadelphia to meet his new-found family.

Which turns out to be a bit harder than she expected. Killian, called Ian by most, is an operative for a top-secret government agency. He’s vacationing in East Texas for about a week to attend the wedding of an old friend, and after that, he’s flying to Cairo for a dangerous mission. He has no time -- and no inclination -- to get involved with a family member he’s never even heard of. Abandoned as an infant and raised in foster homes and reform schools, Ian has never known anything about his biological relatives, and he’s spent a good part of his life telling himself he doesn’t care to know anything.

But Cara is nothing if not persistent, and she’s determined not to go back to Philadelphia without her man. And so begins a battle of wits and wills between our hero and heroine, full of snappy dialogue and mutual attraction. An unexpected series of threats to Cara’s life adds some intrigue to the mix, and the story rolls along at a pace-turning pace.

Cara is a great heroine -- funny, resourceful, confident, and bright. She’s persistent, but not in an in-your-face-every-minute, overly-spunky way. And though she lacks experience as a field investigator, she’s skilled enough to get herself out of some sticky situations. Next to Ian’s years of military and government training, she could have come off as a real bumbler, but she manages to hold her own.

Ian is harder to like. He’s cocky, impatient, overbearing, and rude. He’s not a very good listener, and he never apologizes for anything he does wrong. Although his profession and his background go a long way to explaining his off-putting personality, it’s not quite enough to make him hero material.

On the other hand, his rough treatment of Cara at least indicates that he sees her as an equal. That’s much less irritating than the kind of hero who thinks women should be ignored or treated like dainty porcelain figurines. And he did kind of loosen up as the story went on, developing a passable sense of humor and a bit more forbearance. But he’s still kind of a dud next to Cara.

Which makes it difficult to understand what she sees in him. Sure, he’s great-looking, and he’s got a commanding presence, and he sets off “fireworks” in her bloodstream, but that’s just chemistry. Not that I underestimate chemistry, mind you -- it’s just not love. I could believe that Cara might feel empathy for him, might admire his successful rise from a deprived background, but I didn’t see enough in him, or in their interactions, to make me believe she could fall for him.

Furthermore, there’s a lot to overlook in this book in order to enjoy it. Both characters do some silly, hard to believe things, and the first two chapters contain some creepy overtones of sexual violence that disturbed me a bit.

As for the mystery element of the book, it’s only passable. I had the villain pegged very early on, but I wasn’t sure of the motivations behind the threats to Cara’s life, so my interest was maintained. But there’s no real spine-tingling suspense here -- readers looking for a romantic thriller should be aware that this isn’t one.

Despite all these complaints, I can’t honestly say I didn’t enjoy this book. The writing is smooth, the dialogue is brisk and generally realistic, and there’s a genuine spark of humor -- mostly coming from Cara, who is a real treat of a heroine. So overall, I’d call Killian’s Passion flawed, but funny and fast-paced. You could do a lot worse.

-- Ellen Hestand