Heat Of The Night. Donna Kauffman

as it had been last night. Was it always that way? She shook that thought loose immediately. She’d really have to make a serious effort not to get so distracted here. This was business, not pleasure. Damn shame, that.

      “Come on, I’m not so bad, am I?” she asked, unable to resist teasing him. Just a little.

      He looked at her briefcase, then back up at her. There was the tiniest glint of teasing in his own incredible blue eyes. “Depends on what you have in there.”

      She laughed now. “I assure you, I outgrew playing silly pranks a long time ago.”

      “Yeah, well, I’ve always been one to believe things when I have concrete proof. Never go on hearsay. Gets you into trouble every time.”

      “Not a bad motto, Detective.” Work, Erin, no more flirting. But that tiny glint was just too damn tempting. And this wasn’t really flirting. More like baiting. Twenty years later and she still couldn’t resist yanking his chain a little.

      She grinned and held her arms wide. “Wanna frisk me?”

      His eyes registered surprise, but only for a brief second, noticeable only because she’d been looking for it. So he wasn’t easy to knock off balance, she admitted. Not at age ten…and most certainly not now. Probably why it had always been so irresistible to try.

      “I don’t frisk. I get search warrants,” he responded evenly. But again, there was that trace, that tiny little trace of appreciation in his expression that egged her on.

      She dropped her arms to her side. “Killjoy.”

      “I guess you’ll just have to hunt for other game today, Ms. Mahoney.” He nodded, then went to move past her. She reached out and held his arm, stopping him. He looked down at her from the step above.

      Bad tactical error, she acknowledged immediately. She made a mental note of it, but had no idea where it got filed because he chose that moment to smile at her. A real smile.

      “I’m not going to discuss the case, Erin. Not now. Not later. Not until after I’ve finished my investigation.”

      She released his arm, but stepped up so they were on even ground. It didn’t give her much of an edge, she realized. Barely a sliver, in fact. His smile was gone, but only from his mouth. It was still there, all smug and male, in his eyes.

      “You on your way in to see the mayor?” she asked, a touch of smugness in her own voice.

      “I am.” The twinkle died. “Why?”

      A hollow victory, she discovered. She liked the twinkle better, as it turned out. Eye on the prize, Erin, not his— “I’ll escort you in, then,” she said quickly.

      “That’s not necessary,” he said.

      She slid her arm though his and propelled him up the stairs before he knew what she was up to. Keep the opposition off balance she reminded herself, before they could do the same to you. “Well, I might as well walk you up, since I’ll be joining you.” She gave him a megawatt smile, then slid her arm free and pushed open the lobby door. “After you?”

      He looked at her, then simply nodded and walked through. “Thank you.” Being the gentleman, he opened the inner door for her. “After you.” His seemingly benign smile, on closer inspection as she passed by, was actually a shade on the insolent side.

      Rather than feel deflated, she felt…energized. She was also incredibly turned on, but that was a very unprofessional reaction, so she tried hard to ignore it. Crybaby O’Keefe? Making her hot?

      Okay, she told herself as they headed to the mayor’s office. Playtime was most definitely over. She switched mental gears and worked on coming up with a quick game plan on how to handle the meeting. A meeting she hadn’t been invited to. But she was sure the mayor wasn’t going to throw her out. She merely had to engineer the thing from the start to go the way she wanted it to. She had no compunction in working the mayor to suit her own needs, even though he was her client. After all, as long as the outcome was what he’d hired her to accomplish, that was what was most important, right?

      She caught a glimpse of Brady’s face as the receptionist led them back to Henley’s office. He looked as if he was going to war. And perhaps he wasn’t far off.

      Going through the mayor to get Brady to do what she wanted—needed—him to do was really the only way. And it would tick him off. Big time. But maybe that was for the best, too. All this hormonal stuff sparking between them could only be a bad thing.

      Really bad. Because it felt too damn good.

      She used the moment Brady turned to close the door behind them to make her first defensive strike. His loss for always being a gentleman she told herself as she charged into battle.

      BRADY CLOSED the door and turned to find Erin striding confidently across the expanse of carpet to intercept Henley before he could take charge of the meeting. Very effective, he thought, silently applauding the maneuver. He’d used the same one many times. Only he usually didn’t enter smiling. Or moving his hips like that.

      She blocked his view of Henley, but he got the distinct impression the mayor wasn’t expecting them both. Hmm. So, the question was, had she been waiting for him to show up and use him as her entrée? Or had she just come out of the building and spied him on his way in? He bet on the latter.

      He smiled. She’d probably gotten her battle plan in place with the mayor and thought it was her lucky day when she’d snagged him on his way in. Only he hadn’t succumbed to the sex-charged fog she’d effortlessly swirled around the two of them and answered all her questions without a fight. But she hadn’t pouted and given up, she’d merely switched tactics.

      He liked that in an opponent.

      The fact that there were still some remnants of that fog swirling around inside him was probably the reason he was being so damn reasonable about the whole thing. Well, that and the fact that pretty much nothing was going to make him change his mind about dealing with her on this investigation. Nothing short of the commissioner himself, ordering him to—

      “Detective O’Keefe? Please have a seat. I have a phone conference ready to go with Commissioner Douglas.”

      Brady kept his gaze averted from Erin and made certain the litany of curses running through his mind were not reflected in his expression. It wasn’t easy.

      He sat in a purposefully relaxed manner. “Good morning, Mayor. Commissioner Douglas.”

      “O’Keefe?” The commissioner’s scratchy voice rasped through the speakerphone.

      “Yes, sir?”

      “I want an update on my desk by noon. It will be couriered to me. In the meantime, I want you to stop giving Ms. Mahoney such a hard time here and work with her. I don’t expect you to compromise the investigation, but we have a press conference this afternoon and we need a concrete plan on how we’re going to handle this with the media. I don’t have to spell out for you the sensitive nature of this matter. Mayor Henley is grieving the loss of one of his dearest friends and—”

      And the loss of almost five percent on the overnight polls, Brady added mentally, striving to hold on to his temper.

      “The community is shaken up over the whole sordid ordeal. I know how involved this case is, which is why I brought Erin in in the first place. She will free all of us up to do our jobs and from having to deal with the press.”

      “With all due respect,” Brady began, still not looking at Erin, “you’ve always allowed me to handle my investigations the way I see fit. And I don’t think allowing a civilian to be privy to the innermost details of a homicide investigation, especially this one, is a positive move.” He held up his hand when Erin tried to interrupt. “Furthermore, I’ve never had a problem handling the press and I don’t expect this case will be any different.”

      The mayor cleared his throat. “Detective O’Keefe, no one is challenging the way you handle your investigation,