Witness in Death (In Death #10)(92)

"I came close to losing it, right out on the street. I nearly -- "

"But you didn't." He gave her a little shake before she could speak again. "You irritate me, Eve. Why must you beat yourself up like this? You haven't slept in over thirty hours. You've entered into a phase of this investigation that hits so close to a personal horror most people would run away or shatter. You've done neither."

"I broke."

"No, Eve. You chipped." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Then you came home. Lie down for a bit. Close your eyes. Turn it off."

"I shouldn't have told you to leave me alone. I didn't mean it."

"It hardly matters." The innate arrogance in his voice nearly made her smile. "I wouldn't have. I won't."

"I know. I wanted you to be here." She slid into him before he could nudge her back. "I needed you to be. And you were." Her mouth turned to his. Seeking. "Roarke."

"You need to sleep."

"I'm empty, and it hurts." Her hands roamed up his back, kneading. "Fill me with something. Please."

Love filled the voids and hollows, no matter how deep, no matter how wide. He would give it to her, take it for himself. With patience, with tenderness.

His lips brushed hers, settled, sank, until he felt hers warm and yield. Gathering her, he trailed kisses over her face, her hair, her throat. First to comfort.

She turned into him, offering more. But his hands were light as wings, floating over her, slipping under her shirt to her flesh with long, slow strokes. Then to soothe.

And when she sighed, when her body melted back against the pillows, he undressed her. His lips followed the trace of his fingers, gently stirring pulses. Now to arouse.

She opened for him, as she never had for anyone else. For him, she could lay herself bare. Body, heart, and mind. And know, and trust, he would do the same.

Without heat or demands or urgency, he nudged her up, let her linger on the crest, slide over, until her system glowed with the pleasure of belonging.

Her heart swelled, matched its beat to his, and her arms wrapped around him like ribbons to draw him close.

"I love you." He watched her face as he slipped inside her. "Completely. Endlessly."

Her breath caught, sighed out again. She closed her eyes to hold on to the beauty of the moment. And let him bring her home.

She held him close, needing for just a bit longer to have his body pressed so intimately to hers. "Thanks."

"I hate to state the obvious, but it was my pleasure. Better now?"

"A lot. Roarke -- no, just stay like this a minute." She kept her face turned into his shoulder. "When we're together like this, it's not like it's ever been with anyone else. It's like there never was anyone else."

"For me either."

She laughed, relieved that she could. "You've had a lot more anyones."

"Who's counting?" He shifted, rolling over so that she ranged over him. The fragility was gone, he noted. There was the smooth and agile flow to her movements that characterized her.

Her cheeks were no longer pale, but her eyes were heavy, bruised, exhausted. It made him regret not pouring a tranq into her after all.

"Cut it out." She scooped her hair back and nearly managed a scowl.

"Cut what out?"

"Thinking about fussing over me. You don't have to take care of me." She didn't need the amused glint in his eyes to tell her how ridiculous that sounded under the circumstances. "All the time," she amended.

"Let's take a nap."

"I can't. I don't imagine you can, either. I've already messed up your day. You were probably buying a solar system or something."

"Only a small, largely uninhabited planet. It's not going anywhere. I can use a break, and you need to sleep."

"Yeah, I do, but I can't."

"Eve -- "

"Look, I'll catch some downtime soon. You're one to talk. You haven't had much more than me lately."

"Our engines don't run at the same speed."

That stopped her from her slide off the bed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Just that."

She frowned, considered. "It sounds like something that ought to piss me off. But I can't figure out exactly why. When I do, I might have to pop you one."

"I'll look forward to it. If you won't sleep, eat. You need something in your stomach. And what are you grinning at?"

"You. You're such a wife," she said as she headed toward the shower.

He sat for a minute, stunned. "Now I'm pissed off."

"See, now you know how it feels. Well, order me something to eat," she called out. "Water on, one hundred and two degrees."

"Bite me," he muttered and ordered her some soup with a high-protein additive.

She ate every drop, as much to please him as to kill the hunger. Her mind clear again, she dressed, strapped on her weapon. "I have to go by the hospital, see what I can get out of Stiles."

"Why? You've already figured it out." When she just stared at him, he shrugged. "I know you, Lieutenant. You let it churn around while you were eating, settle into place. Now you're revving up to finish it."