Promises in Death (In Death #28)(30)

“Your instincts on a very brief acquaintance told you she was a woman of subtlety—not flashy. Comfortable with her sexuality, who took her time and who liked order, respected her own tastes, and who was willing to try something new. A new city, a new man. That’s considerable, I’d say. Your instincts and what you’ve learned since confirm that her work was just that to her. Work. It didn’t drive her life. Given that, it’s very possible, isn’t it, that a sexual woman of taste could find herself attracted to a man like Alex Ricker. And he to her. Wouldn’t that relationship, if one developed, have eventually conflicted with her work, or become somewhat problematic?”

“A cop hooking up with a guy with a shady rep?” She arched her eyebrows. “Gee, why should that be a problem?”

He laughed. “We’re different, you and I.” He put his arms around her. “But it’s interesting, isn’t it, to speculate how a similiar situation might go very, very badly.”

“We could’ve taken a turn, ended up—”

He shook his head, touched his lips to hers to stop the words. “No. We were always meant to end up here.” He pressed the release on her weapon harness. “Always meant to find each other. Save each other. Be with each other.”

She laid her hands on his cheeks. “That’s the Irish. But I like the thought of it. Those weird intersects in the past—your father, mine, Ricker. They didn’t stop us from getting here. Roarke.” She lowered her hands, removed her harness. “When Ricker intersected with us again, it screwed us up for a while. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want wherever this investigation may lead to cause a rift between us again.”

“I wouldn’t want to see you take this investigation into an area that causes a rift. Same goal,” he said at her frown. “Different angles of approach. Do you want me to promise, Eve, that I won’t get pissed off if you put yourself in Alex Ricker’s sights, as you did with his father? I can’t. The name Ricker makes it personal. There’s no way around that.”

“You have to trust me to do my job, to handle myself.”

“I do. Every day of my life.”

She understood then it was his trust in her, his belief in her that held his fear for her at bay. “Then I’ll promise something. That I’ll try to tell you beforehand whenever I have to deal with Alex Ricker during this investigation.”

“Try?”

“If something comes up, if I can’t take the time, or hell, don’t know ahead of time, then I can’t tell you. I can’t make a promise to you I might have to break.”

“All right. That’s fair enough. I’ll promise to try not to get pissed off.”

She smiled now. “I’ll probably have to do something, and you’ll probably get pissed off.”

“But we’ll have tried.”

“Yeah. So in case trying doesn’t turn out to be enough, let me say this now. I love you.”

The pleasure rose warm in him, circled his heart. Again his arms went around her, again his mouth lowered to hers. “No one but you,” he murmured. “Always.”

She wrapped around him, hard and tight, giving what he needed before he asked. All. Everything. It undid him, this love, for her and from her. The depth and breadth of it left him weak and wanting, desperate and staggered.

She poured herself into the kiss and filled him. And still, he thought, there would always be more.

However many times they’d loved each other, how many ways, it was always now, and always new. The taste of her, familiar and fresh, stirred him like the first time. Those strong arms around him, that mouth both pliant and avid. Yes, this was everything. This was all.

His murmur came from the core of his heart, in the language of his blood. “A grha.”

He lifted her. That quick, careless strength, the sensation of being taken made her head spin. His power, hers, combined so she felt just a little drunk when he laid her on the bed, when his body covered hers. The weight, the shape, the feel of him. How could she ever get enough?

Had all the years they’d both starved for love caused this bottomless need for each other? His scent—she turned her face into his throat, breathing him in. His touch—and arched under the stroke of his hands. His taste—that punch of sensation whenever their mouths met.

No one else had ever brought her here. No one else had ever compelled her to take him with her.

Slow, dreamy, drugging, hands and lips, sighs and movement. His shirt and hers peeled away so flesh could meet flesh, so hands could roam over curves, over planes to entice and delight.

The long lines of her never failed to fascinate and arouse him. The shape of her—the subtle curves captivated him with those seductive contrasts. Skin so soft, so smooth over rigidly toned muscle.

A warrior’s body, he often thought. One who gave herself to him and brought him endless thrill, and impossible peace. She trembled for him, rose up and over. Lost as he was lost. And when he slipped inside her, she said his name. Said his name as her body arched up to his, as she twined around him, as their eyes met.

He was inside there, too, he thought. In those eyes, in that gilted brown. Lost, and found. And it was her name on his lips as they took each other.

7

EVE CONTACTED PEABODY WITH ORDERS TO REturn to Central and follow up with EDD. She’d keep her partner in reserve regarding interviews with Alex Ricker. It seemed good strategy for her and Roarke to meet the son of the man who’d enjoy seeing the pair of them slow-roasted over an open fire without additional cop presence.