“Yeah. He’s told me pieces of it. The old man knocked hell out of him, drunk or sober.” Eve dragged a hand through her hair, walked back toward the window. There was barely a hint of sky traffic.
How, she wondered, did people stand the quiet, the stillness?
“He had Roarke running cons, picking pockets, then he’d slap him around if he didn’t bring home enough. I take it his father wasn’t much good at the rackets because they lived in a slum.”
“His mother?”
“I don’t know. He says he doesn’t know either. It doesn’t seem to matter to him.” She turned back, sat down across from Mira. “Can that be? Can it really not matter to him what his father did to him, or that his mother left him to that?”
“He knows his father started him on the path of, let’s say circumventing the law. That he has a predisposition for violence. He learned how to channel it, as you did. He had a goal—to get out, to have means and power. He accomplished that. Then he found you. He understands where he came from, and I imagine it’s part of his pride that he became the kind of man a woman like you would love. And, knowing his…profile,” Mira said with a smile. “I imagine he’s determined to protect you and your career in this matter, every bit as much as you’re determined to protect him and his reputation.”
“I don’t see how…” Realization hit, and Eve was just getting to her feet when Roarke walked in the door.
“Goddamn it. Goddamn it, Roarke. You went after Skinner.”
6
“Good morning, Dr. Mira.” Roarke closed the door behind him, then walked over to take Mira’s hand. The move was as smooth as his voice, and his voice smooth as cream. “Can I get you some more tea?”
“No.” Her lips twitched as she struggled to control a chuckle. “Thanks, but I really have to be going. I’m leading a seminar right after the keynote session.”
“Don’t think you can use her as a shield. I told you to stay away from Skinner.”
“That’s the second time someone’s accused me of hiding behind a woman today.” Though his voice remained mild, Eve knew the edge was there. “It’s getting annoying.”
“You want annoying?” Eve began.
“You’ll have to forgive her,” Roarke said to Mira as he walked her to the door. “Eve tends to become overexcited when I disobey.”
“She’s worried about you,” Mira said under her breath.
“Well, she’ll have to get over it. Have a good session.” He nudged Mira out the door, closed it. Locked it. Turned. The edge was visible now. “I don’t need a fucking shield.”
“That was a figure of speech, and don’t change the subject. You went at Skinner after I told you to stay clear of him.”
“I don’t take orders from you, Eve. I’m not a lapdog.”
“You’re a civilian,” she shot back.
“And you’re a consultant on someone else’s case, and your authority here, in my bloody world, is a courtesy.”
She opened her mouth, closed it. Hissed. Then she turned on her heel, strode out through the terrace doors, and kicked the railing several times.
“Feel better now?”
“Yes. Because I imagined it was your stupid, rock-hard head.” She didn’t look back, but braced her hands on the railing and looked out over what was indeed one of Roarke’s worlds.
It was lavish and extravagant. The slick spears of other hotels, the tempting spreads of casinos, theaters, the glitter of restaurants were all perfectly placed. There were fountains, the silver ribbons of people glides, and the lush spread of parks where trees and flowers grew in sumptuous profusion.
She heard the click of his lighter, caught the scent of his obscenely expensive tobacco. He rarely smoked these days, she thought.
“If you’d told me it was important for you to have a face-to-face with Skinner, I’d have gone with you.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Oh, Christ. Men. Look, you don’t need to hide behind me or anybody. You’re a tough, badass son of a bitch with a really big penis and balls of titanium steel. Okay?”
He cocked his head. “One minute. I’m imagining throwing you off the balcony. Yes.” He nodded, took a long drag on the cigarette. “That’s indeed better.”