Because, had she lived, she wouldn’t have been able to identify him by description. More, Eve thought, she wouldn’t have been sure what had happened. They’d had drinks in public, where, according to the server Eve had interviewed that evening, she had been very cozy with he
r date. Hand-holding, kisses, quiet laughter, long, soulful looks. The server, according to his statement, had assumed they were lovers.
The security cameras would not only follow that theme but add to it. She’d not only let him into her apartment, she’d pulled him inside.
That had been clever of him, Eve thought now. Waiting, letting her make the move. For the record.
If she’d lived, he’d have gotten away clean.
She wondered now if he’d done it before.
No, no. She began to pace along the wall. If he had, why would he make the mistake of overdosing her? It seemed like a first time. But she’d run a probability on that.
If there were another it was another channel to explore, another route to tracking him. To stopping him.
Pulling out her memo book, she plugged in key words.
Chat rooms
Poetry
Rare, expensive illegals
Wig, cosmetic enhancements
Pink roses
Pinot Noir ’49
Sexual deviant
Tech skills
Chemistry knowledge
After scanning her own words, she tucked the book back in her pocket. Maybe she’d have that shower, that meal, and work after all.
And turning, she saw Roarke.
It didn’t matter that they’d been together more than a year. It occurred to her that she would, very likely, have this leap of heart, this dazzling rush, every time she saw him for the rest of her life.
Eventually, it might stop embarrassing her.
He looked like something fashioned from fantasy. The long, rangy body clad in black, would have looked just as natural in a billowing cape or tarnished armor.
His face, framed by that silky sweep of black hair, would have suited either poet or warrior with its chiseled bones and full sensuous mouth. His eyes, that wild and wonderful blue, still had the power to weaken her knees.
No, she realized, it would never stop embarrassing her.
It would never stop thrilling her.
“You’re back early.”
“A bit. Hello, Lieutenant.”
At the sound of his voice, that subtle and rich lilt of Ireland, everything inside her tumbled. Then he smiled, just the faintest curve of his lips, and she took a step toward him. By the second she was running.
He caught her halfway, lifted her right off her feet even as his mouth found hers.