“Is that what’s troubling you? Having your own step away from you?”
“No.” She shrugged it off. “No, I can handle it.”
“Then, since there’s little to nothing more I can give you on this profile at the moment, I wish you would tell me what is troubling you.”
“I have a lot on my mind.” In dismissal, Eve got to her feet. “I appreciate you taking the time to come here. I know it’s an inconvenience.”
Eve wasn’t the only stubborn woman in the room. “Sit down; I’m not finished.”
A little surprised by the authoritarian tone, Eve sat. “You said—”
“I said to tell me what’s troubling you. You’re unhappy and distracted, and I suspect its cause is personal.”
“If it’s personal,” Eve said coolly, “then it has no place in this consult.”
“Have the nightmares increased? Are you having more flashbacks?”
“No. Damn it. This has nothing to do with my father, with my past, with any of that. It’s my business.”
“You need to understand something. I care very much about you.”
“Dr. Mira—”
“Be quiet.” And the command, in that warm, pleasant voice, brooked no argument. “I care, on a very personal level. However much it may discomfort you, Eve, I look on you as a kind of surrogate daughter. It’s a pity that causes you embarrassment,” she said mildly when that emotion ran over Eve’s face. “You don’t know my children, but I can promise you that they would tell you I am relentless when concerned about their happiness. While I will try not to interfere, I will know the cause.”
Eve was dumbfounded, and she was chased by so many emotions they ran over themselves on their way to clog her throat. She had no mother, no memory of one. And no defense against the offer from the woman who watched her and seemed so determined to stand as one.
“I can’t talk about it.”
“Of course you can. If it’s not your past, it’s your present. If it’s personal . . . it’s Roarke. Have you had a disagreement?”
The term, so tame, so civilized, caused a reaction Eve never expected. She laughed, laughed until her sides ached and she realized to her utter shock the sound was coming perilously close to sobs. “I don’t know what we had. He’s not speaking to me, basically.”
“Eve.” Mira reached for her hand, clasped it. The gesture snapped the last lock.
It poured out of her, everything from the time she’d walked into the bedroom and seen Summerset staggering under the weight of the flowers.
“I went to see Mavis,” Eve continued. “And got drunk. That sounds stupid, but—”
“On the contrary, it sounds perfectly sensible. You went to a trusted friend, one who knows both of you and is herself in a committed, monogamous, and loving relationship. Getting drunk was a release valve, but talking it over with her was an avenue.”
“She said I should . . .” Eve couldn’t quite bring herself to repeat Mavis’s descriptive phrase. “Seduce him.”
“Again, sensible. Sex opens doors to communication and relieves tension. It didn’t work?”
“I didn’t really get the chance to try it out. There was an individual, I can’t give you the name, who has a connection with the case and an older one with me, who was waiting outside. I brought him up to my office to discuss the case, and . . . Jesus . . . I don’t know what got into him. I guess you could say he made a move on me, which I was about to repel, with some violence, when Roarke . . .”
“Oh dear. I imagine he was seriously displeased.”
Eve simply stared for a minute, stunned by the phrase. She was afraid to laugh again. Afraid she wouldn’t stop. “You could say that. Words were exchanged, and then they went at each other. The worst is, for a minute, I just stood there with my mouth open. They’re breaking furniture, and blood’s flying and I stand there, stupid.”
“Not for long, I take it.”
“No, but still. Anyway, I drew my weapon.”
“Good God, Eve.”
“It was on stun.” She made a defensive move with her shoulders. “I fired a warning, which Roarke ignored. Unfortunately for . . . for the other individual, he didn’t and Roarke cold-cocked him. Summerset got the guy out, and I’m telling Roarke to calm his ass down or I’ll stun him. I meant it.”