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things, and many more, came to mind. Bob had never bothered her to this degree, had never interfered with her thought processes.
    A round of applause jerked her back to reality. Amanda joined in the audience’s appreciation, even though she hadn’t paid much attention to the orchestra’s performance. Brady’s enthusiastic clapping didn’t improve her humor any. Did he have to look so relaxed, so at ease? Didn’t he realize he was supposed to feel out of place? Instead, here she was, feeling out of sorts.
    The drive back to her house was done to the accompaniment of the car’s police band radio. The gravelly noise made her think she had inadvertently stumbled into a
Police Story
episode, and she fully expected it to be interrupted by a commercial at any moment. Brady pulled the car in front of her darkened house with a smoothness that denoted confident control. The porch light was on, illuminating the path up to the front entrance.
    “You don’t have to escort me all the way to the door,” she protested as Brady unfastened his safety belt.
    “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”
    Amanda knew what was coming before he stopped at the door and leaned his dark head toward her. Tension flooded over her, and defenses were automatically employed. Brady wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t noticed the change.
    “Relax.” His reassuring voice was tinged with exasperation. “I’m not going to attack you, Mandy. Just kiss you good night.”
    There was no way of explaining that it wasn’t him she was afraid of, but herself. Steeling herself to remain calm and impassive, Amanda prepared to coolly accept his kiss. Brady lowered his head with unhurried deliberation. His lips got as close as they could without actually touching hers. Amanda found the evocative proximity nerve-racking, and it required all her powers of resistance to stave off the trembling weakness of her limbs.
    Just when she thought she couldn’t resist the temptation a moment longer, he slowly pulled away to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. Viewing her evident surprise, Brady accounted for his restraint. “Isn’t that how a librarian expects to be kissed?”
    Nothing he
could have said would have angered her more or made her more determined to prove him wrong. Which is, of course, why he’d said it in the first place. Amanda, who had heard this approach before, decided to give Brady enough rope to hang himself.
    “Librarians do not kiss any differently from other women,” she snapped, getting into her role of a woman insulted.
    “Really?” Brady’s voice held just the right amount of calculated doubt.
    “You sound unconvinced,” she purred.
    He made matters worse by explaining, “It’s the cop in me. I only go on facts, not on wild claims.”
    Really, Brady was asking for it, and Amanda considered herself woman enough to give it to him. “Would you consider an example as admissible evidence?”
    “That’s all right, Mandy,” he excused with condescending generosity. “I realize it would be hard for you.”
    “Let me worry about that,” she sweetly commanded, raising her arms to clasp them around his neck.
    Brady stood before her, outwardly unmoved by the feel of her soft body pressed against his. But inside he was experiencing the first twinges of doubt about the wisdom of this little game. Amanda Richards had raised his blood pressure since the first time she’d placed her investigating fingers in his pants pocket searching for his ID.
    Now that he’d spent some time with her, he knew that that first ember of attraction burned deep. But she was so damned stubborn at times that he couldn’t resist taunting her. At the moment though, his protective instincts were telling him that he was about to get more than he’d bargained for.
    Amanda could discern none of those thoughts from Brady’s impassive expression. Stung by his apparent unresponsiveness, she sliced her fingers through the coiled strands of dark hair that