“Or a knife at your throat.”
“Gee, Nadine, I’m going to start to think you care.”
“I think I do.” She spent a moment studying Eve’s face. “I’ve worked with, around, and through cops for a long time now. You get instincts on who’s putting in time and who gives a damn. You know what worries me, Dallas? You give too much of a damn.”
“I carry a badge,” Eve said soberly and made Nadine laugh.
“Obviously you’ve been watching too many old videos, too. Well, it’s your neck—literally. I’ll see to it that you get it exposed.”
“Thanks. One more thing,” she added when Nadine stood again. “If this theory has weight, then future targets would fall into the well-known, media-hyped female variety. Keep an eye on your own neck, Nadine.”
“Jesus.” Shuddering, Nadine rubbed fingers over her throat. “Thanks for sharing that, Dallas.”
“My pleasure—literally.” Eve had time to chuckle between the time the door closed and the call came through from the commander’s office.
Obviously, he’d heard about the broadcast.
She was still stinging a bit when she bolted up the steps of the courthouse. The cameras were there, as Nadine had promised. They were there in the evening at the New Astoria when she stepped out of Roarke’s limo and tried to pretend she was enjoying herself.
After two days of tripping over a camera every time she took three steps, she was surprised she didn’t find one zooming over her in bed, and she said as much to Roarke.
“You asked for it, darling.”
She was straddling him, in what was left of the three-piece cocktail suit he’d chosen for her to wear to the governor’s mansion. The glittering black and gold vest skimmed her hips and was already unbuttoned to her navel.
“I don’t have to like it. How do you stand it? You live with this stuff all the time. Isn’t it creepy?”
“You just ignore it.” He flipped open another button. “And go on. I liked the way you looked tonight.” Idly he toyed with the diamond that hung between her breasts. “Of course, I’m enjoying the way you look right now more.”
“I’m never going to get used to it. All the fancy work. Small talk, big hair. And I don’t fit the clothes, either.”
“They might not suit the lieutenant, but they suit Eve. You can be both.” He watched her pupils dilate when he spread his hands over her breasts, cupped them. “You liked
the food.”
“Well, sure, but . . .” She shivered into a moan as he scraped his thumbs over her nipples. “I think I was trying to make a point. I should never talk to you in bed.”
“Excellent deduction.” He reared up and replaced his thumbs with his teeth.
She was sleeping deeply, dreamlessly, when he woke her. The cop surfaced first, alert and braced.
“What?” Despite being naked, she reached for her weapon. “What is it?”
“I’m sorry.” When he leaned over the bed to kiss her, she could tell from the vibrations of his body that he was laughing.
“It’s not funny. If I’d been armed, you’d have been on your ass.”
“Lucky me.”
Absently, she shoved at Galahad who’d decided to sit on her head. “Why are you dressed? What’s going on?”
“I’ve had a call. I’m needed on FreeStar One.”
“The Olympus Resort. Lights, dim,” she ordered and blinked to focus as they highlighted his face. God, she thought, he looked like an angel. A fallen one. A dangerous one. “Is there a problem?”
“Apparently. Nothing that can’t be handled.” Roarke picked up the cat himself, stroked it, then set Galahad on the floor. “But I have to handle it personally. It may take a couple of days.”
“Oh.” It was because she was groggy, she told herself, that this awful sense of deflation snuck in. “Well, I’ll see you when you get back.”