“Must have been Rogers. He’s always fighting with his wife.” Impatience rippled back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Atmosphere,” she told him. “You’ve stopped noticing it and become a part of it. It’s interesting to see. And you’re very organized,” she added, licking chocolate from her thumb. “Not like Judd over there, with all his neat little piles, but in the way you spread things out and know just where to find the right piece of paper at the right time.”

“I hate having you stare at me when I work.” He slapped her hand away from the autopsy report.

“I know.” Unoffended, she grinned. She leaned a little closer. There was something in her eyes besides humor, he noted. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen desire and amusement merged in the same expression before. And he certainly hadn’t realized how the combination could make a man’s blood hum. “You look very sexy plowing your way through all this, gun strapped to your side, your hair all messed up from raking your fingers through it. That keen, dangerous look in your eyes.”

Mortified, he shifted in his chair. “Cut it out, McNee.”

“I like the way your eyes get all dark and intense when you’re taking down some important tidbit of information over the phone.”

“For all you know, that was my dry cleaner.”

“Uh-uh.” She took his coffee to wash down the last bite of candy bar. “Tell me something, Alexi. Are you annoyed that I’m here, or are you nervous that I’m here?”

“Both.” He rose. There must be something he had to do someplace else.

“That’s what I thought.” She hooked a finger around the strap of his holster. She wasn’t afraid of the gun he wore. In fact, she was counting on talking him into letting her hold it one day. So that she could see how it felt. How he felt when he was forced to draw it. “You know, you haven’t even kissed me.”

“I’m not going to kiss you. Here.”

She lifted her eyes, slowly. There was a definite dare in them. “Why not?”

“Because the next time I kiss you—” watching her, he slid a hand around her throat, his thumb caressing her collarbone, until her cocky smile faded away “—really kiss you, it’s just going to be you and me. Alone. And I’m going to keep right on kissing you, and all sorts of other things, until there aren’t any more rules. Any more reasons.”

Was that what she wanted? She thought it was. Right now, when her skin was humming where his fingers lay, she thought it was exactly what she wanted. But there was something else, some complex mixture of yearning and fear, so unfamiliar it caused her to step back.

“What’s wrong, McNee?” Delighted by her reaction, he let his hand slide down her shoulder and away. “Who’s making who nervous now?”

“We’re supposed to be working,” she reminded him. “Not making each other nervous.”