Immortal in Death (In Death #3)(45)

“Is that what you want?”

“I’d wipe those eight years out of my mind if I could.” She said it viciously, felt it viciously. “They have nothing to do with now. I don’t want them to have anything to do with now.”

“Eve, as horrible as those eight years were, and as obscene, they formed you. They helped build your strength, your compassion for the innocent, your complexity, your resilience. Remembering, and dealing with those memories, won’t change what you are. I’ve often recommended you agree to autohypnosis. I no longer do. I believe your subconscious is letting these memories surface at its own pace.”

If that were so, Eve wanted the pace to slow, to let her breathe. “Maybe there are some things I’m not ready to remember. Still, it doesn’t stop. There’s a dream that keeps coming back. Just lately and constantly. There’s a room, a filthy room with this dull red light blinking in the window. Off and on. There’s a bed. It’s empty, but it’s stained. I know it’s blood. A lot of blood. I see myself curled in the corner on the floor. There’s more blood. I’m covered with it. I can’t see my face, it’s toward the wall. I can’t see clearly at all, but it has to be me.”

“Are you alone?”

“I think so. I can’t tell. I only see the bed, the corner, and that light blinking off and on. There’s a knife on the floor beside me.”

“There weren’t any stab wounds on you when you were found.”

Eyes hollow and haunted lifted to Mira’s. “I know.”

CHAPTER TEN

Eve expected the cold blast of Summerset’s disapproval when she walked into the house. She was used to it. She couldn’t explain what perverse streak she’d developed when she found herself disappointed that he didn’t greet her at the door with some snide comment.

She stepped into the parlor off the foyer, engaged the wall sensor. “Where is Roarke?”

ROARKE IS IN THE GYMNASIUM, LIEUTENANT. DO YOU WISH TO CONTACT?”

“No. Disengage.” She’d go see him herself. A good sweaty workout might be just what she needed to clear her mind.

She took the stairs behind the faux panel in the hallway, descended a level, and cut through the pool area with its black-bottomed lagoon and tropical greenery.

There was a whole world down here, she thought. Another of Roarke’s worlds. The lush pool with an overhead that could simulate starlight, sunshine, or moonbeams at the flick of a control; the holoroom where hundreds of games could be accessed to while away a slow night; a Turkish bath; an isolation tank; the target range; a small theater; and a meditation lounge superior to any offered in the pricey health spas on or off planet.

Toys, she supposed, for the rich. Or Roarke might call them survival tools — a necessary means of relaxation in a world that moved faster every day. He balanced relaxation and work better than she — Eve could admit that. Somehow he had found the key to enjoying what he had while protecting it and gathering more.

She’d learned quite a bit from Roarke over the past few months. One of the most important lessons was that there were times she had to push aside all the worries, the responsibilities, even the thirst for answers, and just be Eve.

That was what she thought of now as she slipped into the gym and coded the door to lock behind her.

He wasn’t a man to stint on his equipment, nor was he one to take the easy way and pay to have his body sculpted, his muscles toned, his organs flushed. Sweat and effort were as important to him as the gravity bench, the aqua track, or the resistance center. Because he was a man who appreciated tradition, his personal gym was also stocked with old-fashioned free weights, incline benches, and a virtual reality system.

He was using the first of those now, doing long, slow curls as he watched a monitor flash with some sort of schematic and spoke to someone on a head ‘link.

“Security’s a priority at the resort, Teasdale. If there’s a flaw, find it. And fix it.” He frowned at the screen, switched fluidly from curls to extensions. “You’ll simply have to do better. If you’re going to have cost overruns, you’ll have to justify them to me. No, I didn’t say excuse them to me, Teasdale. Justify them. Have a report transmitted to my office by oh nine hundred on-planet time. Disengage.”

“You’re tough, Roarke.”

He glanced around as the screen went dark, smiled at her. “Business is war, Lieutenant.”

“The way you play it, killer. If I were Teasdale, I’d be trembling in my gravity boots right now.”

“That’s the idea.” He set the weights down to take off the headset and put it aside. She watched him switch to the resistance center, set a program, and start on leg presses. Absently, she picked up a weight, worked on her triceps, and kept watching him.

The black sweatband gave him a warrior look, she thought. And the dark, sleeveless T-shirt and shorts showed off very attractive muscles and skin gleaming with honest sweat. She watched those muscles bunch, that sweat bead, and she wanted him.

“You’re looking pleased with yourself, Lieutenant.”

“Actually, I’m pleased with you.” She angled her head, let her gaze skim over him. “That’s quite a body you’ve got there, Roarke.”

His brow winged up as she strolled over, reached down to test his biceps. “Tough guy.”