Read The District for Free Online Page B

recently, trying to poke at old wounds. Sean had shown Lopez a lot more courtesy than he would have. Of course, Lopez had never been in cahoots with Sean’s fiancée either.
    Eric stepped into the shower and let a steady stream of hot water cascade down his back. He rolled his shoulders to get the kinks out. The leave of absence had done him good. He didn’t want to have to take another after this case.
    He twisted the towel around his waist. His toes sank into the carpet as he approached his suitcase in the corner where he’d parked it, his garment bag folded across the top. He hung up the garment bag in the closet and unzipped the suitcase.
    He pawed through some shirts on the top and pulled out a pair of jeans. Dropping the jeans on the floor, he scooped up an armful of shirts and shook out each one before laying it out on the bed.
    The knock on the adjoining door made him drop a shirt. “Yeah?”
    “Are you ready for dinner yet?”
    His gaze flicked to the towel slipping from his waist. “Give me a few more minutes.”
    “I’m starving.”
    “Five minutes.”
    He left the shirts on the bed, grabbed a clean pair of underwear and stepped into his jeans. A sharp knock on the door halted his progress back to the bathroom.
    “Ready yet?”
    Blowing out a breath, he crossed to the connecting door, unlocked it and yanked it open. “Impatient, aren’t you?”
    She made some reply that didn’t register with his brain—because all reasoning had fled the scene, crowded out by his visceral emotions.
    Christina had shed the pantsuit and replaced it with a pair of dark skinny jeans topped with a wide-necked red sweater that slid off one shoulder, revealing a black lacy tank top. Her loose, dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she tossed it back as she sized him up with narrowed eyes.
    “You’re not even dressed.”
    He dipped his chin to his bare chest. “Almost there. You had the advantage of being here a few days. I went straight to the P.D. from the airport.”
    “Excuses, excuses, Brody. Put some clothes on, will ya?”
    He grunted and grabbed the shirt he’d dropped onto the bed. Had they slipped back into that easy camaraderie after just one afternoon spent together? That was part of Christina’s charm. She came off like one of the guys, but lurking beneath the sarcastic banter was a potent sensuality that could lure you in and wrap you up before you even knew what hit you.
    Now that he knew all her tricks, he could resist her. He stuffed his arms in the sleeves of his shirt and his nostrils flared. Her exotic perfume wafted across the room and slid into his shirt with him.
    “Did you bring the case files with you?” As he buttoned up the shirt in front of the mirror, his eyes strayed to her empty hands.
    She arched an eyebrow. “I’m not bringing those to dinner. We know the basics. I have a notepad and pen in my purse just in case we have some amazing breakthrough.”
    He wouldn’t bring case files to a normal working dinner either but this was no normal working dinner and he wanted the security of a distraction—a distraction from those dark, liquid eyes that shimmered with a hypnotic glow in candlelight.
    “Give me one minute to make some sense of my hair.” He retreated to the safety of the bathroom, but she followed him.
    “Really? Eric Brody uses hair product now?” She curved against the doorjamb like a long, lean cat.
    He rubbed the gel between his hands. “It’s that or get a haircut.”
    “Don’t do that. I like your hair longer.” She tilted her head. “How do the big boys feel about the long hair?”
    “They haven’t said one way or the other, but then I don’t see much of them.” He rinsed his hands off in the sink and grabbed a towel.
    “I’m sure they’re just thrilled to get you back, long hair and all.”
    He stuffed the hand towel over the rack. “There are a couple of restaurants within walking distance to the hotel, but since we’re going to hit the bookstore