She could have dressed in cardboard and made him needy.

He was so damn cute, Bess was thinking, smiling at the back of his head. She enjoyed watching him work—the way he scooped his hand through all that gorgeous black hair when he was trying to think. Or shifted the phone from one ear to the other so that he could take notes. The sound of his voice, clipped and no-nonsense or sly and persuasive, depending on what he wanted from the listener.

And she particularly enjoyed the way he moved his shoulders, restlessly, annoyance in every muscle, when he became too aware of her presence.

She had a terrific urge to press a kiss to the back of his neck—and to see what he was reading.

After a couple of scowls from him, she scooted her chair back and stopped peeking over his shoulder.

She was cooperating fully, Alex was forced to admit. Which only made it worse. He wanted her to go away. How could he explain that it was impossible for him to concentrate on his job when the woman he was falling in love with was watching him read an autopsy report?

“Here you go.” Bess gave him a cup of coffee and a friendly smile. “You look like you could use it.”

“Thanks.” Cream, no sugar, he noted as he sipped. She’d remembered. Was that part of her appeal? he wondered. The fact that she absorbed those little details about people? “You must be getting bored.”

Taking a chance, she sat on the edge of his desk. “Why?”

“Nothing much going on.” He gestured to indicate the pile of paperwork. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince her she was wasting her time. “If you have your TV cop doing this, it isn’t going to up your ratings.”

“We’ll want to show different aspects of his work.” She broke a candy bar in half and offered Alex a share. “Like the fact that he’d have to concentrate and handle this sort of paperwork and detail in the middle of all this chaos.”

He took a bite. “What chaos?”

She smiled again, jotting down notes. He didn’t even see it any longer, she realized. Or hear it. All the noise, the movement, the rush. Dozens of little dramas had taken place that morning, fascinating her, unnoted by him.

“They brought a drug dealer in over there.” She gestured with a nod as she continued to write. “Skinny guy in a white fedora and striped jacket, wearing a heavy dose of designer cologne.”

“Pasquale,” Alex said, noting the description. “So?”

“You saw him?”

“I smelled him.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t my collar.”

Chuckling to herself, Bess crossed her legs and got comfortable. “A Korean shopkeeper came rushing in shouting about vandalism at his store. He was so excited he lost most of his English. They sent out for an interpreter.”

“Yeah, it happens.” What was her point? he wondered.

She only smiled and finished her chocolate. “Right after that, they brought in a woman who’d been knocked around by her boyfriend. She was sitting over there—defending him, even while her face was swelling. The detective at the far end had a fight with his wife over the phone. He forgot their anniversary.”