Leverage in Death (In Death 47) - Page 111

She shook her head, told him the rest.

“The room, the other room, so many people. Every time I looked, more people. But not you. I thought you were in the room with the two of them. A prisoner. And I would’ve gotten you out. I would’ve found a way.”

“Of course you would.” He kissed away the tears on her face. It broke his heart when she wept.

“But it wasn’t you.” She had to fight to breathe again, to hold back the horror. “When I could see through the shadows, it wasn’t you. It was me. And then I knew. I knew what they’d done. Then I saw you, in the room with everyone, everyone who matters. I saw you, and the vest.”

Because it threatened to swamp her again, she drank the last of the soother. “I screamed for you—you couldn’t hear me. I beat on the wall, and tried to break through. It started to crack, but you were reaching for the button. I had to get in, had to get in. If I couldn’t stop you . . . I couldn’t stand being without you. I can take anything, but I couldn’t take that. You have to swear to me.”

“A ghrá, it didn’t happen. And it won’t. Didn’t we already say we’d find another way?”

She gripped his hand until her knuckles went white. “You have to swear to me. You have to believe I’d find a way to get out, and swear to me you’d never push the button. Swear it.”

“And if it had been me, a prisoner?”

“You’d find a way.”

He leaned over, touched his lips to hers. “And there you have it, so I’ll say again what we said before. We’d find a way. I’ll swear to you, and you’ll swear to me. There’s trust between us, isn’t there? We’d find a way.”

“Yes.” She let out a breath. “Yes. I swear it.”

“And so do I. Those fucking bastards, and any like them? They won’t win. We won’t let them.”

She rested her head against his shoulder, and let it go.

“You were already up.”

“A holo conference. I’ll reschedule, and we’ll get a bit more sleep.”

Meaning, she knew, he’d put his work aside, stay with her in hopes she’d get more sleep.

“No, I’m getting up. I’ll feel better if I get going, get something done. You need to put on one of your emperor suits.” She ran a hand down his bare chest, felt his heartbeat. “I’m going to get a workout in, sweat the rest out of me.”

“All right then. I’ll be an hour or so,” he added as he moved to his closet.

She sat as she was, wrapped in the throw, holding the cat while he selected a suit. “You’re still a little pissed off, but now you’re worried on top of it. It’s hard to be both.”

Oh aye, his cop knew her nuances, he mused as he chose a shirt, gray as storm clouds. “I’ll manage.”

“Because you’re good at multitasking.”

“There is that,” he agreed, reaching for the tie he wanted that slashed bold blue over storm-cloud gray. He wandered closer to the bed as his clever fingers fashioned the tie into a perfect Trinity knot. “It’s also that over and under and through being a little bit pissed off and worried with it, I love you with all I am, and ever hope to be.”

Her eyes stung again, but she kept them trained on him. “There is that.”

He smiled, leaned down to brush his lips to hers. When her arms wrapped around him, he sat, drew her in. “Rescheduling’s not a problem.”

She shook her head, but burrowed for one more minute. “No, I’m good. Besides, you went from naked to god of all he surveys in about six and a half minutes.” Easing back, she tapped the complicated knot of the tie. “How’d you do that without even looking?”

“Talent.”

“Well, go do your business god thing with your classy tie. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”

“Or so.” He pressed his lips to her brow, left her.

She sat another moment, stroking the cat into thunderous purrs. She’d told him she wanted a workout mostly to stop him from worrying. Still, maybe a good sweat would drown the dregs of the dream.

Rising, she knocked back a quick shot of coffee, pulled on a tank, baggy shorts, and running shoes while Galahad watched her.

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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