Innocent in Death (In Death #24)(19)

She did what he asked, struggling to let herself fall away. Just fall away. “Inside me. I want you inside me.”

She rose up, not in offer but demand, and guided him to her.

Linked, as only they could be, she told herself. Their rhythm, their heat, their scent. She watched him watch her until her vision blurred. Until there was only speed and movement, the building—frantic and wild—toward that final, sharp-edged release.

When she lay curled against him, her skin dewed from passion, there was still that small, cold place inside her where the heat hadn’t quite reached.

In the morning, he was up and out of bed before she was. But he wasn’t in the sitting area, drinking coffee while he watched the financial reports on screen.

She readied for the day, keenly missing the routine—the conversation, sharing breakfast. Why wasn’t he there, telling her she was wearing the wrong jacket with the wrong pants?

And the night before? Why hadn’t he pushed himself into her work? Why wasn’t he here, right now, nagging her to eat something?

She strapped on her weapon harness with an irritated jerk. It was just fine. He was busy, so was she. She didn’t need or want the man in her pocket every hour of the day.

She strode to her office to retrieve files, though she’d already copied them to her unit at Central. She turned casually toward his office door, had taken only one step when she heard his voice.

“No, I was up. Yes, old habits die hard.”

On the ’link, Eve realized, and since there was only his voice, he had it on privacy mode.

“It was, yes, quite a surprise. I would, of course. I’m sure we do. Why don’t we say one o’clock then, at Sisters Three. I think you’ll like it. Shall I send a car for you? No, Maggie, it’s no trouble. I’ll see you then.”

Maggie,Eve thought as her stomach sank. Not Magdelana, who was glamorous and just a little distant. But Maggie, who was warm and affectionate.

She stepped into the doorway and saw she’d done the nearly impossible and caught him off guard. Still, she couldn’t read him in that instant when he stared off into some thought or memory that wasn’t hers to share. Then his attention, along with a distracted smile, was on her.

“There you are.”

“Yeah, here I am. At your desk early.”

“I had a ’link conference with London at six our time.” Behind him the laser fax signaled an incoming he ignored. “I was about to head back and talk you into breakfast.”

“Full of meal plans today. Lunch?”

“Sorry? Oh, yes. Apparently Magdelana remembered I’m an early riser.” He slipped the date book he had on his desk into his pocket as he got to his feet. “We’ll have lunch.”

“So I heard. You’re going to want to be careful there, pal.”

“Of what?”

“It wouldn’t be the first old friend you’ve had come around hoping you’d dip back into the game for old times’ sake. You might want to remind her you’re sleeping with a cop these days.”

Irritation, faint as a whisper, passed over his face. “I’ve no intention of dabbling in old habits.”

“Old habits die hard, didn’t you say?”

Now a hint of ice came into his eyes, into his voice. “Eavesdropping now, Lieutenant?”

“I was standing in my office. Your door was open. I have ears.”

“Then use them to hear this. I’m having lunch, nothing more or less.” His head angled slightly while those wild blue eyes narrowed speculatively on her face. “Or don’t you trust me?”

“I’d trust you a hell of a lot more if you didn’t refer to her as an old friend when we both know she was a hell of a lot more.”

“What she was is nearly a dozen years in the past. Years before I ever set eyes on you.” Now simple bafflement joined the irritation and the ice. “Christ Jesus, are you jealous of a woman I haven’t spoken to, seen, or thought of in years?”

Eve only looked at him for one long moment. “You’re thinking of her now,” she said, and walked away.

She jogged down the steps, and there was Summerset, Roarke’s majordomo, his guardian, his man of all work. And the chronic pain in her ass. He stood, tall and thin in unrelieved black, his pewter hair swept back into wings, and cool disdain in his dark eyes.

She only grabbed the coat, which was draped over the newel post. “If you say a word to me, just one f**king word, I’ll yank that stick out of your ass and beat you bloody with it.”

She strode toward the door, then spun around. “And tell your keeper if I were the jealous type I’d have beaten him bloody two years ago. Goddamn it.”

Summerset arched his brows, speculated, then glanced up as Roarke came to the top of the stairs.

“The lieutenant seems more abrasive than usual this morning,” Summerset commented.

“She’s having a mood.” Hands in his pockets, Roarke frowned at the front door. A damned uncharacteristic mood, he thought. “Magdelana’s in town. We’re having lunch today. Apparently, Eve doesn’t like it.”

He met Summerset’s eyes and the expression in them had the temper he’d barely gotten back under control straining again. “Don’t start on me. I’ve had enough drama for one day, and it’s not even eight in the bloody morning.”