Innocent in Death (In Death #24)(113)

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. You can’t block me from—”

“I can,” he corrected, so coolly her color ebbed. “I will. You’re going to leave New York, and in fact, the country, within three hours.”

“You can’t control the whole damn country,” she shot back.

“Actually, I’d give that a good try, if only to watch you sweat. But, I don’t need to. If you’re not gone, well gone, within those three hours beginning…” He checked his wrist unit. “…now, Interpol and Global will receive some very interesting and very detailed information on you.”

This time, she went dead white. “You’d betray me that way?”

“Again, listen carefully. I’d crush you like a bug for causing my wife one single moment of pain. Believe it. Fear it.”

“If you tried anything like that, I’d take you down with me.”

This time he smiled. “You could try. I’m so much more than you, you’d never pull it off. And Maggie, you’d find the accommodations in prison very limiting, and not at all to your taste.”

He saw her lips tremble before she managed to firm them. He saw her absorb the shock of the truth. The she shrugged, carelessly. “I don’t need you. I never did.” She strolled away, circling the room. “I only thought we might have some fun together, but obviously you don’t know how to play anymore.”

“The clock’s ticking,” he warned her.

She whirled around. “I prefer Europe any way. New York bores me. You bore me.”

She saw the flash of headlights strike the window glass, and changed tack instantly. “Oh, what the hell.” She let out a robust laugh. “You found me out, shut me down. No point in whining about it. Time to cut my losses and move on. Plenty of fish to fry.”

She looked at him, smiled. “I’ll never understand how you could possibly want her and not me.”

“No, you’ll never understand it.”

She stepped forward as if to pick up the fur she’d tossed over a chair. Smoothly, she turned to hand it to him. And with perfect timing, flung herself into his arms.

The sable fell as he took her shoulders to shove her back.

Eve stepped to the doorway to see Magdelana with her arms locked around Roarke’s neck, his hands on her bare shoulders—one of the ivory straps sliding to her elbow.

“Son of a bitch,” she said.

On cue, Magdelana spun around, her face full of passion and shock. “Oh, God. Oh…it’s not what it looks like.”

“Bet.” Eve strode in.

Actually, Roarke thought, it was more of a swagger. He had a moment to admire it, before Eve rammed her fist in his face.

“Fuck me.” His head snapped back, and he tasted blood.

Magdelana cried out, but even the deaf would have caught the suppressed laughter in the sound. “Roarke! Oh, my God, you’re bleeding . Please, let me just—”

“Don’t look now,” Eve said cheerfully. “But he’s not the only one.” She decked Magdelana with a straight-armed jab. “Bitch,” Eve added as Magdelana’s eyes rolled back and she fell, unconscious, to the floor.

Roarke looked down. “Well, now, f**k us all.”

“You’re going to want to get that mess out of my house.” With this, Eve strode out again.

She passed Summerset in the foyer. She assumed the expression on his face was a grin, but couldn’t be absolutely sure. “You’re going to want to be careful—spreading your mouth like that could split your whole face in half.”

“I thought applauding would be a bit inappropriate.”

She snorted, and kept right on going upstairs.

Face throbbing, sensibilities insulted, Roarke stepped over Magdelana. In the foyer, he sent Summerset an icy look. “Take care of that.”

“With absolute pleasure.” Still, Summerset stood another moment, watching Roarke head upstairs after his wife.

He caught up with her in the bedroom. “Damn it all to hell and back again, you know very well that was a setup. You bloody well know I couldn’t put my hands on her.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, sure.” Eve shrugged off her coat, tossed it aside. “I know a setup when I see it, and I know your face, ace. I didn’t see desire on it, I saw annoyance.”

“Is that so? Is that bloody well so? Well, if you knew it was just what it was, why did you sucker punch me?”

“Mostly?” She turned, cocked a hip. “Because you’re a man.”

Eyes narrowed on her face, he tried to stanch the blood with the back of his hand. “And do you have any sort of idea just how often I might expect your fist in my goddamn face because of my bleeding DNA?”

“No, really don’t.” He looked so furious, so incredibly insulted. She wanted to rip off his clothes and bite his ass. “In fact, I think you’ve earned a good whupping.”

“Bugger that. I’ve had about enough of women altogether.” The absurdity of the entire thing began to wind through his temper. “You’re fearsome and irrational creatures.”

She rolled up on the balls of her feet and back again, flexed her knees. “Afraid to take me on? Come on, hotshot, you got punched for being a man. Act like one.”