In Hot Pursuit. Joanne Rock

aside and leaned forward to get a better look. As the tray passed, she spied a profile to set a girl’s pulse to racing.

      Dark hair brushed his collar, too short to be a rock star’s hair, but definitely longer than the cropped perfection of every other man in the room. Great cheekbones. A nose that definitely hadn’t bowed down to the gods of plastic surgery. And a diamond stud earring winking in one lobe.

      Hello.

      Blood pulsed through her veins in time with the sultry Latin rhythm that dominated the disco. Maybe the stress of the day conspired to make her a little more on edge tonight, but she’d never before experienced lust quite so keenly just looking at a man.

      An idea took shape in her head—a crazy, insane plan to act on this feeling. Lexi slid off her bar stool before she lost her nerve to approach the sexy stranger.

      She downed half the cosmopolitan to fuel her steps in the direction of her quarry. The pair of handcuffs around her wrist would provide a definite conversational icebreaker.

      Lexi had just figured out a surefire way to put her personal magnetism to the test.

      JOSH WINGER didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know someone followed him. After all, he’d been chased by the best—bad asses with guns, knives and garrotes for weapons rather than six-inch spikes and a killer flash of thigh.

      The sultry brunette in black sequins had stalked him through the trendy Manhattan bar for the past ten minutes. Relentlessly, she pursued him—through a narrow, zebra-printed corridor, down a staircase lit in pink neon.

      Damn.

      Any other day, Josh would have welcomed attention from a knockout like the one hot on his trail. Tonight, however, he needed to remain detached, anonymous. He’d attended the after-hours gathering of New York’s fashion elite for work, not pleasure.

      Josh didn’t waste any time at the subterranean bar. As soon as he hit the lower level, he sprinted along the side of the room to a second set of stairs and bolted back up them to the main floor. With any luck, the sequined siren would get distracted downstairs, and Josh would be able to get back to business.

      The thought of work didn’t interest him quite as much as it usually did, however. Maybe because he’d caught the brunette’s eye earlier, and the look she’d shot him still sizzled through his veins. Despite the woman’s designer dress and perfect makeup, Josh had the feeling she was the kind of woman who could heat up a room with nothing more than a breathy whisper….

      Not that he was thinking along those lines on the job.

      He needed to keep his professional ear to the ground tonight and observe the players in the fashion world. For two months, he and his partner had been tracking smuggling activity in the Garment District to no avail. But tonight, he’d slipped past the doorman at a swanky fund-raiser attended by most of the smuggling suspects on Josh’s list.

      One way or another, he would bring down the thugs causing trouble in the Garment District. Not only were the bastards slipping drugs and weapons into the city, but they were using underage gangsters to run half their dirty business. Josh had already tangled with one juvenile offender last month in an encounter that had nearly cost a fellow officer’s life. While Josh had wasted time trying to talk the kid out of his crime, the wayward teen got off a shot that seriously injured Josh’s backup. Josh blamed himself for the shooting—and so did the press when the story was splashed all over the front page.

      Now Josh hungered to find the ringleader of the smuggling operation, to squash the wave of crime that had plagued his precinct and the special task force he was assigned to. If that meant working on his case after-hours, Josh didn’t mind a bit. This job meant everything to him.

      He scanned the crowd one more time, searching for any familiar faces.

      His partner’s new socialite fiancée had told Josh about the event. He’d searched for Amanda Matthews—soon-to-be Rawlins—in the crowd, but she’d obviously left before he arrived. On the other hand, maybe his partner, Duke, hadn’t allowed his gorgeous future bride to stray as far as six blocks from their brownstone. The two of them seemed to be joined at the hip—a condition Josh had no intention of ever suffering.

      Josh surveyed the dance floor from an old balcony left over from the bar’s days as a theater. Later, the seats would be packed with couples too drunk to find a hotel room, but for now the shadowy corner gave him a perfect window on the glittering assembly below.

      For a moment, he caught himself wishing he’d glimpse black sequins. He had to admit that the attention from the brunette had been more than a little flattering. He’d never been the kind of man women sought out first, which probably had something to do with the fact that he resembled a criminal more than he did a cop.

      A waitress, in thigh-high boots and a dress that looked like an X-rated toga, sidled over, effortlessly balancing a tray of empty glasses with one hand. The getup might have turned his head if he hadn’t just spotted a small jail cell off to one side of the dance floor.

      A jail cell?

      “Get you a drink?” the waitress asked, leaning close to be heard over the steady thrum of the music’s bass line.

      He shook his head and tore his gaze from the lower level long enough to smile at her. “No drink, but maybe you can tell me what the cage is for.” He peeled a crisp bill off the roll in his pocket and stuffed it in the waitress’s tip glass.

      She shrugged, the small action shifting her tiny toga enough to flash him white satin panties. An observation he made on a strictly professional basis. He was more in the mood for black sequins, anyhow.

      The blonde waitress adjusted her tray. “Some prop for the private party. It doesn’t belong to the club.” She sent him a wicked grin. “Looks sort of kinky, huh?”

      Images of the brunette in a cage didn’t do much for him, until he mentally inserted himself inside the cage along with her.

      “Definitely.” He turned back to the view on the dance floor, just in time to make eye contact with his pursuer.

      Even from this distance, her dark eyes broadcast a message for him alone. A smile played at her crimson lips, as if she enjoyed their game.

      Heat surged through him. He admired her persistence. An odd sense of pride in her tracking abilities mixed with growing frustration. He couldn’t very well do his job tonight if he had to keep eluding this woman. Maybe he needed to confront her and tell her he wasn’t interested in her game.

      Too bad his body was very interested.

      Josh had the sinking feeling that if he got within five feet of the fashion princess, he’d be lured in like a damn fish.

      Reluctantly, he left his observation deck before his stalker caught up with him. He wasn’t a cop worth his badge if he couldn’t give a society babe the slip, right? She was probably drunk to boot, given that she had chosen to pursue him over the wealth of highbrow guys milling around the bar tonight.

      Josh sped back down the pink neon stairs and ducked into the hallway by the phone booths and cloakroom. As soon as he shook the woman on his tail, he would seat himself at the bar and salvage what he could of the night by soaking in the party gossip.

      For now, he envisioned his pursuer climbing the stairs in her slinky black gown, and he ticked off enough time for her to reach the balcony he’d just vacated. Thinking she must be safely on the opposite side of the bar by now, Josh stepped from the dark hallway.

      And nearly collided with a whirlwind of black sequins.

      He obviously hadn’t given his pursuer enough credit, because there she stood with a satisfied gleam in her dark eyes.

      Her black hair shimmered in the low light of the bar. Although most of it rested on her head in an intricate knot, one long wayward tendril slipped free to point a path toward her cleavage. Cleavage out-lined by a square neckline that exposed just enough pale skin to tease the hell out of him. The collar of diamonds around her throat was too