The standard disclaimer applies: All characters are property of Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. Not mine, not making money.

I'm not one to take risks.

Wait, let me rephrase that. In my profession, I take risks every day – all prosecutors do. It's required, in order to serve justice. But in my personal life, I have a comfort zone that I seldom like to stray from.

I never thought that I'd end up with a man who is constantly challenging me out of that comfort zone, but I have – and I guess that's why life with Michael Cutter is so exciting. In and out of court, he encourages me to take risks.

Sometimes those risks involve things that I'd never dream of doing. Like the time Mike was house-sitting for a friend who was out of town.

It happened late one Saturday, near the end of July. The city was in the midst of a heat wave, and a lot of Manhattanites were holed up in their apartments, trying to keep from being miserable. I was sitting in my living room, directly in the path of my electric fan – it wasn't helping much – and indulging in one of my guilty pleasures, British TV.

I suspected that Mike was doing much the same. We hadn't really made plans to get together – the main objective for each of us was staying cool. The last thing I wanted was to go down into the street, among the throngs of people. But if I had the option to get out of my heatbox of an apartment, I'd take it.

My cell phone rang. I opened it, seeing Mike's number flash on the screen.

"What are you doing?" he asked. We'd done away with greetings long ago.

"Watching Coronation Street and dying of hyperthermia," I replied, wiping the sweat from my brow.

"Coronation Street? Never heard of it. Anyway, I'm at a penthouse on the West Side."

"A penthouse?" I asked, confused. "Did Jack give you a raise that I don't know about?"

"Like that would ever happen," he said. I pictured him rolling his eyes. "I'm house-sitting for an old friend from law school. You should be here, Connie – this place is amazing."

I had just one question. "Does it have air-conditioning?"

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"Welcome," Mike said, giving me a quick kiss.

I stepped inside the apartment, sighing at the refreshingly cool air. As I looked around, I realized that Mike was right – the place was amazing, beyond anything in my wildest dreams. And all I'd seen was the living room, which was airy and spacious and had large windows that offered a spectacular view of the city.

A far cry from the broom closet that I called home.

"Some friend," I said, examining an abstract painting that hung over the fireplace.

"He made a name for himself on Wall Street, while I went on to nobler pursuits," Mike explained. "Let me give you the tour."

Mike led me through the apartment, each room being more luxurious than the last. Once he'd finished showing me a state-of-the art kitchen and a marble-paneled bathroom and a bed so large that one could get lost in it, we stopped outside on the terrace. Much to my chagrin – the comfortable temperature inside made the heat so much more unbearable.

"And last but certainly not least, the swimming pool."

It was kidney-shaped, the water glistening with the lights of nearby buildings. Mike looked at me, giving me the sly smile that usually indicated that he was up to something.

"Wouldn't it be nice to take a dip, Connie?" he said. "Get some reprieve from this heat?"

"You didn't tell me to bring a bathing suit," I replied.

"Why should a little thing like that matter?"

Oh, no. No, no, no. Skinny-dipping was where I drew the line.

"I'm not swimming naked," I said. "People could see me." And it was true – Green and Lupo had a bird's eye view of Dawn Talley's hot tub party from a neighboring building.

Mike bent down to unlace his shoes. "No one's going to see once you're in the water. And even if they did, so what? You'd be the nicest thing they've laid eyes on in a long time." He pushed his shoes and socks aside, and began to unbutton his shirt.

"It's just wrong, Mike!" I exclaimed. "And in someone else's pool!"

"There's no statute against it." He folded the shirt, neatly folding it before placing it on the cement. Then he reached for his belt. "And Larry gave me full use of all the amenities." He removed his pants and boxers, adding them to the pile of clothing.

"Last one in's a rotten egg," he said with a grin before diving into the water. He disappeared beneath the waves, becoming a blurry flesh-colored silhouette. After a moment or two, he emerged, still grinning.

"Come on, Connie, join me. The water's perfect."

"Nuh-uh." I was standing firm. "I'm having no part in this."

"You're so stodgy," Mike said, swimming to the edge of the pool.

"I beg your pardon!" I exclaimed, incredulous. "I am not stodgy!"

He looked up at me challengingly. "Then prove me wrong."

When Mike accuses someone of something, it doesn't matter how right or wrong he may be – it just seems to stick. I've been told before that I was prim and proper, but never stodgy – and if I didn't remove my clothes and jump into the pool with him, that was exactly what I would be. He had me backed into a corner, and he knew it.

Damn him.

I took a deep breath, and looked around. There was no way to tell that we had an audience – and no way to tell that we didn't. To me, the chances were about 50/50.

"I can wait here all night, Connie," Mike said.

Oh, what the hell. I stepped out of my sling-back heels and reached for the zipper at the back of my dress. Once I was undressed, I dipped a toe into the water.

"It's cold," I said, hugging myself against the unexpected chill. "If this guy is so rich, you'd think he would have sprung for a pool heater."

"Nah. It's nice once you get in. And I'll help keep you warm."

"Mike," I said sternly, "we are not having sex in this pool!"

"So, what are you going to do? Stand there naked all night?"

I rolled my eyes at him. Then I counted to three, held my breath, and jumped in. I plunged downward before coming to the surface, trying to adjust to the cold water.

"That's my girl," Mike said, swimming towards me. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right – this was nice. The water was the perfect antidote to the humid air. And it was so pretty. There was a full moon, and the nearby buildings glittered like diamonds.

Not that I'd ever let him know that.

Mike was close, his skin slick against mine. He soon had me pinned against the side of the pool, kissing me hard.

"Mike," I said between kisses, "no sex in the pool, remember?"

He kept right on going.

What he said in Ulster County, about not being like the other dogs? He was telling the truth. It doesn't matter if it's business or personal – when he wants something, he doesn't stop. And he almost always wins, the other party giving the submission signal.

I should have resisted, but right then I was beginning to want him. So I slipped my arms around him, and kissed him back.

If anyone was watching us that night, they received quite a show.

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I didn't notice the white terry bathrobes and bucket of champagne until I was getting out of the pool. The realization dawned on me quickly.

"You sneaky bastard," I said. "You planned the whole thing."

Mike grinned, slipping into one bathrobe and offering the other to me. "Yeah. And I'd say that it worked out rather well."

I sighed. That was Mike – always encouraging me to take risks.

finis