The Cop and the Chorus Girl Read Online Free PDF

like, Miss Davis.”
    â€œThat’s downright neighborly, Maurice, honey.”
    When the concierge was gone, Dixie leaned against the closed door and said with an amused sigh, “He’ll change that tune as soon as Joey stops paying my bill.”
    Flynn folded his arms across his chest. “Miss Davis, I think you’ve got some explaining to do. I don’t understand most of what’s going on. Maybe it would be better if I just left.”
    â€œNo! Please, don’t go.”
    â€œI’ve got to get to work.”
    â€œWell, could you take a few days off from the garage?” she asked, heading for the kitchenette.
    Flynn followed. “The garage?”
    â€œWhere you work on your motorbikes. Couldn’t you take a little vacation?”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œI’ve got a proposition for you.”
    Flynn’s imagination immediately came up with several possible propositions—all of them including scenarios that required the removal of clothing that casually clung to Dixie’s curvaceous figure. Flynn had a good idea of what she would look like naked, but he wondered exactly what shade her nipples might be, what the texture of her skin would feel like, how her voice might sound softly whispering nonsense in his ear. He could feel his whole body tingle and harden at the thoughts that crowded into his mind.
    Unaware of Flynn’s nosedive into sexual fantasy, she opened the refrigerator and removed two apples. Calmly, she offered him one of the pieces of fruit. “I’d like you to stick around and help me.”
    He accepted the apple automatically, although he wasn’t thinking about his stomach. “Doing what?”
    â€œI heard you tell Maurice you were my bodyguard.” She polished her apple on the belly of her T-shirt and regarded Flynn. “That was pretty quick thinking.”
    â€œI had to come up with something.”
    She bit into her apple and chewed, studying Flynn carefully. “Would you be interested in the job?”
    â€œWhat job?”
    â€œGuarding my body. So to speak, that is.” She swallowed her bite of apple and headed for the living room in an easy saunter that showed how perfectly her jeans fit the curves of her hips and thighs. “I mean, I might be needing some protection. Nothing life threatening, but it would be nice knowing there was somebody around here if I needed a—well, a witness or something.”
    â€œYou want somebody to beat up your boyfriend if he comes around,” Flynn guessed.
    â€œHeavens, no! Although I’m still amazed by the way you stopped George in his tracks.” Dixie sat down on the sofa and folded her long legs Indian-style. “Joey’s not a violent man. But sometimes he loses his temper.”
    â€œAnd then what happens?”
    â€œHe shouts a lot,” she admitted, studying her apple. “I hate shouting, so I’d like to avoid him. I want somebody around for a few days while I take care of some business.”
    â€œWhat kind of business?”
    â€œTheater stuff. Don’t worry.”
    But Flynn was worried. As a cop he knew he’d never get a better chance to get the goods on Joey Torrano. The Organized Crime Unit had spent the past two years trying to dig up evidence to use against the nefarious mob boss, but nothing useful had landed in the laps of the police. Until now.
    But looking at Dixie Davis as she sat on the sofa nibbling her apple and looking anything but prim, Flynn knew it would take a stronger man than himself to resist her charms long enough to locate some evidence against her mobster boyfriend.
    She looked up, and her blue eyes seemed endlessly deep as she awaited Flynn’s answer. Her bottom lip was moist from the apple. Her blond hair wisped delicately along her temples, and Flynn’s fingers itched to brush it away from her brows. There he’d press light, nibbling kisses.
    â€œWhat do you say?” she