With the tie pushing on her neck, hair twisted and pulled up underneath her police cap, Virginia felt like a trussed-up turkey. The temperature wasn't helping, either. Los Angeles was in the midst of a typical July heat wave and the courthouse's expansive hallways weren't easy to keep cool. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back. The turkey was roasting.

They were all there—all eight officers from the drug bust, including Captain Beal—congregated outside the courtroom, waiting for their case to be called. The dress uniforms had been captain's orders. And as she yanked at the tie for the umpteenth time with a silent curse, she spotted the man she had been trying not to think about since that day in her kitchen.

Spinelli was walking down the hall with three other men, one of whom she recognized as Gregg Anderson, the Chilvati family lawyer. Dressed in a dark suit and standing taller than the rest, Spinelli had an in-charge aura that was evident, even from a distance. All comments were directed at him, acknowledged only by the occasional slightest of nods. He looked as he always did: confident, intimidating . . . and utterly gorgeous.

She couldn't tear her eyes away.

"The boss himself is here. Wow, what an honor," Walt scoffed from his position to her left.

"Must be worried about this one," Joe, to her right, muttered in her ear.

Bookended by the two of them, she stood silent, stunned by Spinelli's presence, mentally cursing the fact that she was currently dressed like a man—complete with tie clip. And even as she tried to block it, it was impossible not to replay that kiss in her mind, right up to the point where their bodies had pressed together and—

Damn this heat, she silently moaned. It had been hot before, but now it was getting downright unbearable. She yanked on the tie threatening to choke her, knowing full well it wasn't the temperature that was to blame for this sudden challenge in catching a breath.

Before turning into the courtroom, he spotted the gathering of police officers and halted. As he searched, Virginia's pulse went into overdrive. Once his eyes found hers, they didn't stray. Without any explanation to his party, he detoured, heading in her direction, leaving the other three with no other option but to wait.

He had an effect on men too. She noticed Walt and Joe straightening their spines, attempting to gain just that little bit more height as they watched his approach.

"Lieutenant Robins, such a wonderful surprise to see you here," Spinelli said with a slow smile.

Her throat was dry, but she forced it to work. "Mr. Spinelli, good to see you," she replied, hoping the stiffness she heard in her own voice came off as professional and not flustered.

The two men flanking her took a step forward, then closed the gap between them, blocking Spinelli's access. "Why don't you crawl back into the hole you came out of, Spinelli," Joe sneered, looking like he would be quite comfortable with an all-out brawl in the middle of an LA courthouse. Walt was silent, but his message was just as clear when he rolled his shoulders and clenched his fists.

Spinelli seemed hesitant to shift his eyes from hers, but when he did, his expression darkened. "What are you, the cliché king?" he taunted.

Joe took another step in Spinelli's direction just as the bailiff came out of the courtroom to call their case.

Deciding to put an end to the three-way testosterone surge, Virginia placed a hand on the closest shoulder of both Walt and Joe. "Knock it off." She gave Spinelli an apologetic smile. "Sorry, they had waaaaay too much coffee this morning. Right, boys?"

Pushing her way between her two imprudent co-workers, she looked from one to the other with an unspoken warning before turning her attention back to Spinelli. "Maybe we should all go inside."

His smile returned. "After you," he said, swinging his hand out and falling into step beside her. Anderson and the two other suits squeezed in behind them, forcing her group farther back. As they made their way to opposing sides of the courtroom, Virginia hoped the rest of the day went more smoothly than it had started.

) l (

Three hours later Mark stepped outside and spotted her on the sidewalk by her car, stacking evidence boxes into the backseat. Knowing it was safe from a distance, he let his eyes wander. Even in such unisex garb as that uniform, she still managed to look sexy.

When she had finished with the loading, she ripped her hat off and placed it in with the boxes. The contraption holding up her hair was next, her hands twisting and pulling, impatience crossing her face when the thing didn't cooperate. With one final yank, the offending device came off and brown waves tumbled down. Her hands moved on to the tie, making short work of it before tossing it in to join the hat. She was down to pants and a long-sleeved shirt that hugged all the right places. Two top buttons were quickly opened and the collar fanned a few times, an attempt to get the air circulating around her—

He swallowed hard. Then did it again.

"Boss?"

He twisted around to the man standing behind him. Shit. Either Louis had tiptoed up, or Mark was more distracted than he thought.

"Should I bring the car around?"

"I'll meet you there."

Louis leaned to one side to get a good look at the distraction. "Ahh," he said with a nod before heading off to the limo.

Mark's focus went back to the woman in front of him. As she circled around the classic Mustang and attacked the boxes from the other side, he walked over to stand behind her. And waited, enjoying the view.

Seeming satisfied, she straightened and turned, jumping slightly upon discovering him right behind her. "Oh! Hi . . . again."

"I heard you met Gus," he said, feeling his face tightening.

"Yes, I had the pleasure. If you can call it that."

"Stay away from him."

Her eyebrows shifted up.

He nodded toward the courthouse. "They won't help you," he said, referring to the defendants they had just left. "They would rather go to jail than be dead. Gus does not forgive anyone, anything."

"Is that why you're here? To remind them of that?"

He paused, unwilling to answer that question. His eyes absorbed every detail of her face. A dewy glow brought on by the heat covered her skin. She wore no makeup but didn't need it; those green eyes and full lips attracted attention without any help from cosmetics. "You look beautiful . . . even in that monkey suit," he said.

Her eyes flared wide as a hand went up to fiddle with her hair. "I . . . um, thank you." One shoulder shifted up and back down. "All the men claim the uniform is a big chick magnet, but it doesn't seem to work in reverse. I guess it's a bit intimidating."

"Well, I can't speak for all men, but I think it's sexy. Although, it's true that I'd rather see you"—his eyes took a tour down to her shoes and back—"without it." He couldn't help it. She looked so damn cute when she was flustered.

Her cheeks pinked-up with the suggestive comment.

"How is Janine?" Mark asked, thinking he should change the subject before she bolted.

Looking much more relaxed with their new topic, she extended her hand out to him. "She's great, thank you for asking . . . You know, I will never forget what you did for her . . . me . . . us, I mean . . . everything . . . I will be forever grateful for that."

He trapped her hand between his two, drawing small circles on the back of her wrist with his fingertips. The blush returned to its former glory.

She pulled back, her hand slipping away, leaving his feeling empty and useless. "I'd better head out before I get a ticket. I've heard the cops around here are real jerks." The rear door got a shove with her hip, closing with a soft thud as she giggled at her own joke.

Mark grinned, thinking he had never heard such a glorious sound, wondering how cute and gorgeous could combine together so well in one perfectly proportioned package. As she leaned forward to grab her door handle, he beat her to the punch, reaching around her and bringing their faces close together . . .

Talk about your time standing still.

Pulling the door open, he straightened reluctantly. "See you around, Ginny."

Virginia blinked as she lowered herself into the driver's seat. Mark eased the door shut and backed up a few steps to give her room to swing out. The engine roared to life, and with a turn of the wheel, she was passing him, giving a tentative wave of her hand.

As the distance between them grew, so did his regret.

Life could be too damn unfair sometimes.

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Well, here we are, almost at December twenty-fifth and I'm on chapter twenty-five. I thought that was appropriate (especially with the turkey reference). I'm hoping for a lot of hungry readers over the holidays. Please consider adding me to your reading list to help them find me, and I will add your profile name to my next chapter! (My gift to you during this holiday season). As always, your vote means a lot.