Нора Робертс – Convincing Alex: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down (страница 5)
“So I told the mayor we’d try to work it in, and we’d love for him to come on the show and do a cameo.” She shifted on the desk and spotted Alex. He was frowning at her, his thumbs tucked into the pockets of a leather bomber jacket. “Officer Stanislaski.”
“McNee.” He inclined his head, then swept his gaze over his fellow officers. “The boss comes in and finds you here, I might have to tell him how you didn’t have enough work and volunteered to take some of mine.”
“Just entertaining your guest, Stanislaski.” But the use of the squad room’s nickname for their captain had the men drifting reluctantly away.
“What can I do for you?”
“Well, I—”
“You’re sitting on a homicide,” he told her.
“Oh.” She scooted off the desk. Without the stilettos, she was half a head shorter than he. Alex discovered he preferred it that way. “Sorry. I came by to thank you for straightening things out for me.”
“That’s what they pay me for. Straightening things out.” He’d been certain she would rave a bit about being tossed into a cell, but she was smiling, friendly as a kindergarten teacher. Though he couldn’t recall ever having a teacher who looked like her. Or smelled like her.
“Regardless, I appreciate it. My producer’s very tolerant, but if it had gone much further, she would have been annoyed.”
“Annoyed?” Alex repeated. He stripped off his jacket and tossed it onto his chair. “She’d have been annoyed to find out that one of her writers was out soliciting johns down at Twenty-third and Eleventh Avenue.”
“Researching,” Bess corrected, unoffended. “Darla—that’s my producer—she gets these headaches. I gave her a whopper when I went on a job with a cat burglar.”
“With a…” He let his words trail off and eased down on the spot on the desk she’d just vacated. “I don’t think you want to tell me about that.”
“Actually, he was a former cat burglar. Fascinating guy. I just had him show me how he’d break into my apartment.” She frowned a little, remembering. “I guess he was a little rusty. The alarm—”
“Don’t.” Alex held up a hand. He was beginning to feel a headache coming on himself.
“That’s old news, anyway.” She waved it away with a cheerful gesture of her hands. “Do you have a first name, or do I just call you Officer?”
“It’s Detective.”
“Your first name is Detective?”
“No, my rank.” He let out a sigh. “Alex.”
“Alex. That’s nice.” She ran a fingertip over the strap of his harness. She wasn’t being provocative; she wanted to know what it felt like. Once she knew him better, she was sure, she’d talk him into letting her try it on. “Well, Alex, I was wondering if you’d let me use you.”
He’d been a cop for more than five years, and until this moment he hadn’t thought anything could surprise him. But it took him three seconds to close his mouth. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s just that you’re so perfect.” She stepped closer. She really wanted to get a better look at his weapon—without being obvious about it.
She smelled like sunshine and sex. As he drew it in, Alex thought that combination would baffle any man. “I’m perfect?”
“Absolutely.” She looked straight into his eyes and smiled. Her gaze was frank and assessing. She was studying him, the way a woman might study a dress in a showroom window. “You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
Her eyes were pure green. No hint of gray or blue, no flecks of gold. There was a small dimple near her mouth. Only one. Nothing about that odd, sexy face was balanced. “What you’re looking for?”
“I know you’re busy, but I’d try not to take up too much of your time. An hour now and then.”
“An hour?” He caught himself echoing her, and shook himself loose. “Listen, I appreciate—”
“You’re not married, are you?”
“Married? No, but—”
“That makes it simpler. It just came to me last night when I was getting into bed.”
God. He’d learned to appreciate women early. And he’d learned to juggle them skillfully—if he said so himself. He knew how to dodge, when to evade and when to sit back and enjoy. But with this one, all bets were off.
“Is this heavy?” she asked, fiddling with his harness.
“You get used to it. It’s just there.”
Her smile warmed, making him think of sunlight again. “Perfect,” she murmured. “I’d be willing to compensate you for your time, and your expertise.”
“You’d be—” He wasn’t certain if he was insulted or embarrassed. “Hold on, babe.”
“Just think about it,” Bess said quickly. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I have this problem with Matthew.”
A brand-new emotion snuck in under his guard, and it was as green as her eyes. “Matthew? Who the hell is Matthew?”
“We call him Storm, actually. Lieutenant Storm Warfield, Millbrook PD.”
Now he definitely had a headache. Alex rubbed his fingers against his temple. “Millbrook?”
“The fictional town of Millbrook, where the show’s set. It’s supposed to be somewhere in the Midwest. Storm’s a cop. Personally, his life’s a mess, but professionally, he’s focused and intense and occasionally ruthless. In this new story line I’m working on, I want to concentrate on his police work, the routine, the frustrations.”
“Wait.” He’d always been quick, but it was taking him a minute to change gears. “You want me to help you with a story line?”
“Exactly. If you could just tell me how you think, how you go about solving a case, working with the system or around it. TV cops have to work around the system quite a bit, you know. It plays better than by-the-book.”
He swore under his breath and rubbed his hands over his face. Damn it, his palms were sweaty. “You’re a real case, McNee.”
“You don’t have to decide right now.” She was also persistent. And she wondered if he had a spare gun strapped to his calf. One of those sexy-looking little chrome jobs. She’d seen that ploy in several movies. Still, she thought if she asked him that, she’d lose her edge. “I’m having a thing tonight.” As she spoke, she dug into her huge bag for her notebook. “Eight o’clock until whenever. Bring a friend, if you like. Your partner, too. He seemed very sweet.”
“He’s adorable.”
“Yeah.” She ripped off the page and handed it to him. “I’d really like you to stop by.”
He took the sheet, not bothering to remind her he already had her address. “Why?”
“Why not?” She beamed at him again.
Before he could list the reasons, he heard his name called.
“Alexi.”
Alexi. Bess was already enchanted with the sound as she rolled the name over in her head. Different, exotic. Sexy. She was certain it suited him much more than the casual Alex.
Bess studied the woman bearing down on them. This wasn’t one who’d be lost in a crowd, she mused. She was stunning, totally self-assured and very pregnant. Beside Bess, Alex pushed off the desk and sighed.
“Rachel.”
“A moment of your time, Detective,” Rachel said, flipping a glance over Bess before pinning Alex with a tawny stare. “To reacquaint you with civil rights.”
“Your sister?” Bess surmised, beaming at both of them.
Alex sent her a considering frown. “How did you know that?”
“I’m really good with faces. Same bone structure, same coloring, same mouth. You have to be brother and sister, or first cousins.”
“Guilty,” Rachel admitted. Though she would have liked to know what Alex was doing with the sharp-eyed redhead, she wasn’t about to be swayed from her duties as a public defender. “Jesús Domingo, Alexi. Illegal search and seizure.”
“Bull.” Alex crossed his arms and leaned back against the desk.
“You had a search warrant?”
“Didn’t need one. He invited us in.”
“And invited you to poke through his belongings, I suppose.”
“Nope.” Alex grinned while Bess watched them bounce the verbal ball as though they were champion tennis players. “Jesús got sick. I offered to get him some water. He didn’t object. I opened the freezer to get the poor guy some ice, and there it was. Two kilos. It’ll all be in my report.”
“That’s lame, Alexi. You’ll never get a conviction.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Talk to the DA.”
“I intend to.” Rachel shifted her briefcase and began to rub her belly in circular motions to soothe the baby, who seemed to be doing aerobics in her womb. “You had no probable cause.”