He gave himself, as she had given, so they could take each other.
The blood was still roaring in his ears when he managed to roll, drawing her with him so she was cushioned by his body rather than pinned under it.
The storm inside him had burned itself out. His hand was gentle as he stroked over her back.
“Some walk.”
He smiled a little. “Yes, well, a bit of fresh air always does a body good.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was the fresh air that did the trick.” She snickered. “Now I get why people go to the countryside for a little R and R.”
“I’m feeling pretty rested and relaxed at the moment.”
She lifted her head now, studied his face. “Yeah?”
He knew what she was asking. Knew she’d understood. “Yeah. I suppose we’d better tidy ourselves up and get inside. They should be bringing McNab along soon, and I’ve yet to tell Summerset.”
“I’ll leave that happy little job to you.”
“Coward.”
“Bet your ass.” She rolled off him, then looked around on the grass for her clothes. “Where the hell’s my shirt? Did you eat it?”
“Not to my knowledge.” He glanced up, pointed. “There, hanging on the roses.”
“The many uses of the garden,” she commented as she strode over to tug it free. “Visual and olfactory stimulation, sex ’capades and clothes hanger.”
He got up laughing, and the rich, easy sound of it told her they were back on steady ground again.
Once they were inside, Eve made a beeline for the stairs and went straight up to her office. She had work, she told herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid whatever conversation Roarke was going to have with Summerset.
Or it wasn’t just that.
She put in a call to the commander first. The reluctance she’d shown about having Roarke on board as consultant had been smoke. She’d already planned to tag him for it, officially.
But there wasn’t any reason to give him a swelled head about it.
“Permission’s already been granted,” Whitney told her. “Feeney requested that Roarke be asked to consult. I’m told Detective McNab’s been released from the hospital and into your care.”
“Not my care—so to speak.”
“I’ve already spoken with his parents. You can expect a transmission from them.”
“Ah . . .” Her mind began plotting how to pass that along to Summerset as well. “He’s young and he’s fit. I expect he’ll be back on his feet in a day or two. I’ll be working primarily out of my home office, Commander. Unless Feeney feels otherwise, I want Cogburn’s unit transferred here.”
“That’s your call. We have a meeting tomorrow with Chief Tibble, Mayor Peachtree, and Chang, the media liaison. Fourteen hundred, in The Tower. Your presence is required.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get me some answers, Lieutenant.”
When he broke transmission, she sat down at her desk. She might not have the answers yet, but she could line up all the questions.
She made notes, checked prior notes. Shuffled them together and made fresh ones.
Cogburn, Louis K.—playground illegals. Possible to trace purchase of data unit? Search data entries to determine how often he used it—per week, hours per day.
Sudden violence displayed in primitive, physical bludgeoning. No prior VT indicated through witness statements.