Obsession in Death (In Death 40)

Then found herself dragged to her knees to experience a full body and lip lock.

With relief surging through her she gave it a minute—maybe two—before she shoved at Roarke. “On duty.”

“Alive.”

He rested his forehead on hers. Murmured to her in Irish—words he’d translated for her before, and that would’ve mortified her if anyone in the room understood.

“Okay.” She clamped a hand on his a moment, held it tight. “Back at you.” Then she got to her feet, turned first to Reineke. “Nice shot, Detective.”

“Nice jump, boss. Ah hell.”

To her shock he threw his arms around her, lifted her to her toes in a giant bear hug.

“Okay, okay. Hey.”

“Just went back for a cup of christing coffee. Stuck back there, my family out here. I can’t do squat.”

“Going for christing coffee and keeping your head saved your family. So . . .” She gave him a punch in the shoulder. “Good work. Everybody . . . take a couple minutes. Settle. And if somebody would get me some christing coffee, I might hug them.”

Her knees felt too fluid—and God, she could use a chair.

But not yet.

“Get her out of our house,” she ordered with another glance at Lottie. “Have her examined and cleared. I want her in the box within the hour. I’m going to take her apart, piece by lunatic piece.”

“Happy New Year.” Peabody, eyes still damp, offered her a cup of coffee.

“Yeah. Hell.” Eve took the coffee, passed it off to Roarke. And hugged her partner.

• • •

She took a little time to settle herself. She had to admit to being a little light-headed.

“Have you eaten since breakfast?” Roarke asked her when she dropped into her office chair.

“Maybe not.”

With a sigh, he pulled out his ’link.

“What are you doing?”

“Ordering pizza—for your division—and more for the E and B team. And don’t give me any bloody grief about it. I’m a bit on edge here as I couldn’t get through the bloody, buggering door for more than five minutes—and that was after Feeney started on it before me. And my wife about to be blown to bits on the other side.”

She knew the fear, the soul-emptying terror of it. She’d felt it for him a time or two. All she could do now was try to ease it.

“I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“Weren’t you now?”

“Nope. I wasn’t going to let the last words I said to you be ‘Later, honey.’”

Since it made him laugh, she sat back, closed her eyes for one blessed moment while she heard him ordering twenty-five (good God!) large pies with a variety of toppings.

She heard the brisk click of heels, opened her eyes, and waited for Mira.

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“Still on shift,” Eve reminded her.