Internal Affair by Marie Ferrarella Page B

water. You still thought I was going to kiss you.”
    Maggi’s breath returned in tiny dribbles and she husbanded it before saying in what she hoped was a normal voice, “The thought crossed my mind.”
    “Because I wanted it to.”
    And maybe, just maybe, he added silently, because the idea was not exactly abhorrent or foreign to him, either. It had buzzed around in the back of his mind now like an annoying itch. One he instinctively knew that, if he scratched, would just increase. He’d been testing himself more than the theory he was tendering to Maggi.
    “And you weren’t even predisposed to believe I’d do that. Wiley already knew you were buying his act, hook, line and sinker.” When she cocked her head, silently asking for an explanation, he said, “You were practically playing his maid, for God’s sake, dumping out his ashtray like that.”
    “I was playing detective,” she countered with every fiber she could muster.
    Damn, but he’d just about undone her. She should have pushed him away, should have laughed in his face, not just sat there holding her breath.
    Waiting.
    She should have had more than doughnuts for breakfast. Sugar always did make mush out of her brain.
    Patrick’s expression told her he wasn’t buying what she was selling. “And how’s that?”
    It was her turn to play out the line and reel him in. “We need Wiley’s DNA, don’t we? To see if it matches the baby’s.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Think the lab can get something useful from one of these? I’m assuming there’s got to be a little bit of saliva on at least one of them.”
    And then, before he could ask her what she was talking about, Maggi opened her hand and produced three of the butts that had been in the congressman’s ashtray.

Chapter 8
    H e stared at Maggi’s opened hand. On her upturned palm, a smattering of ashes were mixed with the remnants of three cigarettes, smoked all the way down to the filters. “How did you get those?”
    “I palmed them. From Wiley’s ashtray.” Taking out her handkerchief, she placed the evidence in the center, then carefully folded it and placed it back in her pocket. She made a mental note to have her jacket cleaned.
    Patrick shook his head as he turned over the engine. “Damn but you’re more resourceful than I gave you credit for.”
    Satisfied with herself, Maggi smiled. She supposed that was as close to a compliment as she was going to get from the man. “I’m a lot more things than you give me credit for. Apology accepted.”
    He studied her for a moment, then they left the parking area. “Hacker, thief, anything else I should know about you?”
    Yes, that I’m really here to spy on you. The thought exploded in her chest with the force of a magnum bullet. She kept her face impassive and brazened it out. “Lots of things. You’ll learn as we go along.”
    He had no idea why he found that promise sexy. Maybe it was because he found the woman sexy. Maybe because he’d rattled more than just her cage with that near kiss. He hadn’t allowed it to come to proper fruition, not from any lack of interest on his part, but from a strong sense of survival. Sex had no business here, or in his life right now.
    All he wanted was to be a good cop. Everything else, beyond his existing family ties, was just so much extra complication he wasn’t willing to take on. And a relationship, any sort of a relationship, meant complications.
    He set his mouth grimly and stared straight ahead as he wove his way through the traffic. “Let’s get these to the lab.”
    His curt tone took her by surprise. Maggi tried to tell herself this made her job more challenging, more interesting, but right now she was getting more frustrated.
    Nothing good ever came easy, her mother used to say to her. Too bad the woman hadn’t lived long enough to make her own words come true, Maggi thought. One way or another, she was going to get some good out of this. She was either going to out a dirty cop or save