Abigail led the way back upstairs, all the while conscious of the big cop right behind her and feeling as if she were letting a dangerous tiger into her apartment. Detective Brody Donovan had left a permanent impression on her brain, including the image of him peeling off his shirt to reveal a broad, muscled chest that had got her heart vrooming and other lady parts positively panting. Thank the lord he’d kept his undershirt on or she might have been in serious trouble there. This was the second time they’d met, and again she looked less than optimal. Maybe not as bad as being squashed into a hot, lumpy costume, but still…her teeth needed brushing, and after the restless night she’d endured, her hair looked like a bird’s nest. To make matters worse, Brody was channeling the James Dean look so perfectly he was even sexier than yesterday, which made this early-morning meeting a little awkward. For her, anyway. He didn’t seem fazed by her untidy appearance, but what did he have to go on, anyway? For all he knew she always looked like a mess. “That’s a fancy thingamajig you’re wearing,” he remarked as they entered her apartment. “Looks like something out of Mad Men.” She glanced from her green silk brocade dressing gown to him, unable to resist raising her eyebrows. “You watch that show?” He didn’t look like a Mad Men watcher; he seemed more the Breaking Bad type. “My sister’s a big fan. She likes the dresses and the décor. She’d think this apartment really cool.” Abigail couldn’t help smiling. “Well, Mad Men is set in the sixties. My Aunt Edna was big on the fifties.” “You must be a fan too, judging by that.” He tilted his chin at her dressing gown, and his gaze traveled over her body in a very male, very frank appraisal, making every inch of her aware she was a woman. She should have been offended. She usually didn’t care for men eyeing her like that. But Brody was different. Maybe she liked him appreciating her. Telling herself not to be so silly, she pointed at his gym bag. “I suppose you want to set up your spy cameras in my bedroom?” “Is it unoccupied at the moment, or should I come back later?” She couldn’t help a spurt of color warming her cheeks. “No, it’s empty at the moment. The orgy only starts in the afternoon.” He grinned right back at her. “I’ll have to check in this afternoon, then. Just to make sure my equipment isn’t being, shall we say, violated.” Shoot, why did she have such a runaway mouth in his presence? “You know I’m kidding.” “You were?” He raised his eyebrows in mock disappointment. “And here I was thinking I’d found some fresh entertainment for my Sunday afternoons.” “I doubt you’ll find anything entertaining around here, at least not your kind.” He considered her for a moment, his eyes becoming thoughtful as he went over her one more time. “You might be surprised.” Before she could reply, he walked down the hall and into her bedroom.