We are Cassandra.
• • •
Peabody strode toward the conference room. She'd just left Zeke and was feeling a little shaky over the conversation they'd had with their parents over the 'link. Both of them had put the pressure on for their parents to stay out west, though each had separate reasons.
Zeke couldn't stand the thought of them seeing him under the current circumstances. He wasn't in a cell, but it was close.
Peabody was determined to clear her brother and put him back on the path of his life in her own way.
But her mother had struggled not to cry, and her father had looked dazed and helpless. She wasn't going to get the image of their faces out of her head any time soon.
Work was the remedy, she decided. Unearthing that lying, murdering bitch Clarissa. Then snapping her skinny neck like a twig.
It was with violence brewing under her starched uniform that she walked into the room and saw McNab.
Oh hell, was all she could think, and she marched straight over for coffee. "You're early."
"I figured you'd be." He'd also figured out what he intended to do, and he took the first step by going over and closing the door. "You're not kicking me out of your way without an explanation."
"I don't need to explain anything to you. We wanted to have sex, we had it. Done and over. The lab reports come up?"
"I say it's not done and over." It should be, he knew it should be. But he'd been thinking about that square, serious face and amazingly lush body for days. Weeks. Jesus, maybe months. He'd damn well say when it was done and over.
"I've got more important things on my mind than your ego, McNab." She took a deliberate sip of coffee. "Like my semiannual dentist appointment."
"Why don't you save up your lame insults until you have a better selection? They don't work. I've had you under me."
And over him, she thought. Around and through. "Had's the operative word. Past tense."
"Why?"
"Because that's how it is."
He stepped closer, pulled the cup out of her hand, slammed it down. "Why?"
Her heart began to pound. Damn it, she wasn't supposed to feel anything. "Because that's the way I want it."
"Why?"
"Because if I hadn't been rolling around with you, I'd have been with Zeke. If I'd been with him, I wouldn't have just told my parents my lieutenant is trying to clear him on murder charges."
"That's not your fault. It's not mine." Her breath had begun to hitch, unnerving him. He was mortally afraid she might cry. "It's on the Bransons. And Dallas isn't going to let him take the heat from it. Get a hold here, Dee."
"I should've been with him! I should've been with him, not you."
"You were with me." He took her arms, gave her a quick, surprising shake. "You can't change that. And I want you with me again. Damn it, Dee, I'm not done."
He was kissing her, with all the helpless rage and lust and confusion that roared through him. She made some little sound, a sound caught between despair and relief. And was kissing him with all the vivid fury and need and bafflement that pumped inside her.
Eve walked in, stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh, jeez."
They were too busy trying to swallow each other to hear her.
"Man." She pressed her fingers to her eyes, half hoping they'd disappear before she lowered them. No such luck. "Break it up." She jammed her hands in her pockets and tried to ignore the inarguable fact that McNab's hands were clamped on her aide's ass. "I said break it up!"
The shout got through. They leaped apart as if someone had snapped a spring between them. McNab hit a chair, knocked it over, then stared at Eve as if he'd never seen her before.
"Oh. Whoa."