Witness in Death (In Death #10)(51)

"Where have you gone?" Charles asked quietly.

She jerked herself back. "Sorry. I guess there's a lot on my mind." She picked up her fork to sample the saucy seafood appetizer. The perfection of it on the tongue nearly had her eyes crossing in ecstasy.

"Your work." He reached across the table to pat her hand. "I'm glad you were able to take a break from it after all and come out tonight."

"We didn't work as late as I thought we would."

"The Draco matter. Do you want to talk about it?"

It was just one more perfect thing about him. He would ask and listen if she chose to unburden herself. "No, not really. Can't anyway at this stage. Except to say Dallas is frustrated. So many levels and angles make it slow going."

"I'm sure it does. Still, she seemed her usual competent self when she spoke to me."

Peabody's hand froze as she reached for her wineglass. "She spoke to you? About the case?"

Caught off guard, Charles set his fork down. "She didn't mention it to you?"

"No. Did you know Draco?"

Charles cursed himself, briefly considered dancing around the truth, then shrugged. He'd never been anything but honest with Peabody and didn't want that to change. "No, not really. I happened to be with Areena Mansfield the other night when Dallas and Roarke dropped by to speak with her. I was working."

"Oh." Charles's profession didn't bother Peabody. He did what he did, just as she did what she did. Maybe if they'd been lovers, she'd have a different attitude, but they weren't.

Damn it.

"Oh." She said again, because his profession did a lot more than bother her lieutenant. "Shit."

"Put simply, yeah. It was awkward, but Dallas and I came to terms."

"What kind of terms?"

"We talked. Delia, I've tried not to say too much because it puts you in the middle. I never wanted that."

"You never put me there," she said immediately. "Dallas did."

"Because you matter very much to her."

"My personal life is -- "

"A concern to her, as a friend, Delia."

The quiet censure in his tone made her wince, then give up. "Okay, I know it. I don't have to like it."

"I think things should be smoother now. She had her say, I had mine, and we both felt better for it. And when I explained to her that we weren't having sex, she -- "

"What?" The word squeaked out as Peabody jumped to her feet. Sparkling silver, glittering crystal danced on the white linen cloth. "You told her that? That? Good God. Why don't you just strip me naked and push me into the squad room?"

"I wanted her to know we had a friendship, not a professional agreement. I'm sorry." Recognizing his misstep too late, Charles rose, lifted his hands. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You tell my immediate superior that I've been seeing a professional for what, nearly three months, and haven't done the mattress dance. No, no, jeez, what could be embarrassing about that?"

"I didn't realize you'd wanted sex to be part of our relationship." He spoke stiffly now. "If you had, you had only to ask."

"Oh yeah, right. I say, how about it, Charles, and I'm a client."

The muscles in his belly went taunt as wire. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know what to think." She dropped into her chair again, briefly held her head in her hand. "Why did you have to tell her that?"

"I suppose I was defending myself." It was a tough admission to swallow. "I didn't think beyond it. I'm very sorry." He moved his chair over so that he could sit close and take her hand. "Delia, I didn't want to spoil our friendship, and for the first stages of it, I was hung up on someone who couldn't, who wouldn't be with me because of what I am. You helped me through that. I care very much about you. If you want more..."

He lifted her hand, brushed his lips over the inside of her wrist.

Her pulse gave a little dance. It was only natural, she supposed. Just as it was natural for her blood to go warm, very warm, when he shifted that skilled mouth from her wrist to her lips.

But doubts churned inside of her, side by side with simple lust. It was infuriating to realize not all the doubts were directed at Charles.

"Sorry." She broke the kiss, eased back, and wondered when she'd lost her mind. There was a gorgeous man she liked very much, and who knew all there was to know about sexual pleasures, ready to show her just what could be done to the human body, and she was playing coy.

"I've hurt your feelings."

"No. Well, maybe a little." She drummed up a smile. "Fact is, this is a first for me. I've completely lost my appetite. All across the board."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Working out of her home office could be an advantage. The equipment, even counting her new computer system at Central, was far superior. There were fewer distractions. And it was next to impossible to run out of coffee.

Eve chose to do so from time to time, even if only to have a fresh view to clear her mind.

Her plan today was to start the morning with something fulfilling. She stood in the center of her home office, smirking down at her old, despised, computer.