Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)(25)

“It couldn’t hurt. Can I just ask you, just personal curiosity: After you kill something, what do you do with it?”

“Since I’m not interested in trophies, I donate the kill to Hunters Against Hunger. Whatever can be used from the animal is processed and distributed to those in need. HAH’s an excellent global organization.”

Eve said, “HAH.”

6

AS WITH CENTRAL, EVE FELT PLEASED TO drive through the gates of home. A different atmosphere, certainly, than her professional house, but like Central it was hers now.

Rich summer green grass spread, a luxuriant carpet for leafy trees, sumptuous blankets of flowers, and madly blooming shrubs. Through the banquet of color, of green, of cooling shade the drive wound through to Roarke’s elegant jewel.

Maybe the house was huge—so huge she wasn’t sure she’d been in all the rooms—but it had dignity and style with its stone towers and turrets, its big and generous windows and terraces. What he’d built out of guile and need and vision held both the warmth and welcome they’d both lived most of their lives without.

It could, she supposed, swallow a dozen or more Brody farmhouses, but now that she’d experienced both she understood, at the core, they offered the same.

Welcome, stability, continuity.

She parked, gathered what she needed for the night’s work, and walked past the flowers into her home.

Where Summerset materialized in the foyer like fog over a headstone. Bony in black, with the fat cat at his feet, he gave Eve the beady eye.

“Your first day back and you manage to come home without dripping blood on the floor. Shall I open champagne to commemorate?”

“Skip it, because I think about dripping blood on the floor. But it’s always yours.”

Insults exchanged, she thought as she headed upstairs with the cat padding after her. Now she was officially home.

She went to the bedroom first to strip off her jacket, change her boots for skids. Galahad wound in and out, in and out of her legs like an engorged ribbon.

“I think you gained weight.” She sat on the floor, hauled the bulk of him into her lap. “You’re a disgrace. You’re like a cat and a half in a one-cat package.” She gave him a good scratch while he stared at her with his bicolored eyes. “No point giving me the look, pal. You are officially on a diet. Maybe we’ll get you one of those pet workout things.”

“He’d just sleep on it,” Roarke said as he came in.

“We could hang food at the end, rig it so he can’t get it until he puts in the time.”

“He’s always been . . . big boned,” Roarke said with a smile.

“He’s got more pudge than he had when we left.” She poked the cat’s belly to demonstrate. “Summerset spoiled him.”

“Probably.” Still in his business suit, Roarke joined her on the floor. Galahad immediately switched laps. “But then, so do we.”

“Look how he’s cozying up to you because I was talking about diet and exercise, and he doesn’t want to hear it.”

Stroking the cat into locomotive purrs, he leaned in, kissed his wife. “I missed you today. I’ve gotten used to having you all to myself.”

“You missed all the sex.”

“Absolutely, but I missed that face of yours as well. And how was your day?”

“Limo driver meets crossbow bolt. Bolt wins.”

“And here I thought my day was interesting.”

“What planet did you buy?”

“Which would you like?”

“I’ll take Saturn,” she decided. “It’s got pizzazz.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

She gave his tie a tug. “I thought you were going to stop wearing so many clothes.”

“They frown on less at global business meetings.”

“What do they know?” She unknotted his tie. “I think you should be naked.”

“Oddly, I was just thinking the same about you.” Reaching out, he hit the release on her weapon harness. The cat gave him a head butt, obviously annoyed the stroking had stopped. “I’ll get back to you,” Roarke promised, and nudged Galahad aside.

Eve took Galahad’s place, wrapped her legs around Roarke’s waist, her arms around his neck. “Maybe I missed your face.”

“Maybe you missed the sex.”

“I guess it can be both.” She laid her lips on his, sank in. “Yeah,” she murmured. “It can definitely be both.”

While the cat stalked away in disgust, she shoved the jacket off Roarke’s shoulders, tugged it off. He simply pulled the sleeveless tank she wore over her head.

“See how much easier mine are? You’ve got all these buttons.” She attacked them while he let his hands roam.

He loved the feel of her, long and lean with that supple core of muscle. Hers was a warrior’s body, agile and strong, and she gave it to him without reservation.

Her fingers, impatient and quick, dealt with buttons, pulled open his shirt. Their eyes met, hers that gilded brown, and aware. Watching her, he cupped her br**sts, slid his thumbs back and forth over her until that awareness deepened.

When he took her mouth again, she pressed against him, center to center.

The beat of his blood quickened to a fierce and primal rhythm, driving, driving the need to possess. But when he would have pushed her back to the floor, she shifted her weight, and took him down.