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“If it were me, I’d kill the business partner.”
“That’s you,” Eve said with a quick glance. “And I imagine you’d kill both of them.”
“You know me so well.” He stepped toward her, put his hands on her shoulders. “On the financial end, you may want to consider that whatever Cicely’s share of Mercury was, Angelini’s matches it. They held equal shares.”
“Fuck.” She struggled with it. “Still, money’s money. I have to follow that scent until I get a new one.” He continued to stand there, his hands cupping her shoulders, his eyes on hers. “What are you looking at?”
“The gleam in your eye.” He touched his lips to hers once, then again. “I have some sympathy for Marco, you see, because I remember what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that look, and that tenacity.”
“You hadn’t killed anyone,” she reminded him. “Lately.”
“Ah, but you weren’t sure of that for a time, and still you were . . . drawn. Now we’re—” The beeper on his watch pinged. “Hell.” He kissed her again, quick and distracted. “We’ll have to reminisce later. I have a meeting.”
Just as well, Eve thought. Hot blood interfered with a clear head. “I’ll see you later then.”
“At home?”
She fiddled with her coffee cup. “At your place, sure.”
Impatience flickered in his eyes as he shrugged into his jacket. The slight bulge in the pocket reminded him. “I’d nearly forgotten. I bought you a present in Australia.”
With some reluctance, Eve took the slim gold box. When she opened it, reluctance scattered. There was no room for it in shocked panic. “Jesus bleeding Christ, Roarke. Are you insane?”
It was a diamond. She knew enough to be sure of that. The stone graced a twisted gold chain and glinted fire. Shaped like a tear, it was as long and wide as the first joint of a man’s thumb.
“They call it the Giant’s Tear,” he said as he casually took it from the box and draped the chain over her head. “It was mined about a hundred and fifty years ago. It happened to come up for auction while I was in Sydney.” He stepped back and studied its shooting sparks against the plain blue robe she wore. “Yes, it suits you. I thought it would.” Then he looked at her face and smiled. “Oh, I see you were counting on kiwi. Well, perhaps next time.” When he leaned in to kiss her good-bye, he was brought up short by the slap of her hand against his chest. “Problem?”
“This is crazy. You can’t expect me to take something like this.”
“You do occasionally wear jewelry.” To prove his point, he flicked a finger at the gold dangling from her ear.
“Yeah, and I buy it from the street stall on Lex.”
“I don’t,” he said easily.
“You take this back.”
She started to pull at the chain, but he closed his hands over hers. “It doesn’t go with my suit. Eve, a gift is not supposed to make the blood drain out of your cheeks.” Suddenly exasperated, he gave her a quick shake. “It caught my eye, and I was thinking of you. Damn you, I always am. I bought it because I love you. Christ Jesus, when are you going to swallow that?”
“You’re not going to do this to me.” She told herself she was calm, very calm. Because she was right, very right. His temper didn’t worry her, she’d seen it flare before. But the stone weighed around her neck, and what she feared it represented worried her very much.
“Do what to you, Eve? Exactly what?”
“You’re not going to give me diamonds.” Terrified and furious, she shoved away from him. “You’re not going to pressure me into taking what I don’t want, or being what I can’t be. You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing these past few months. Do you think I’m stupid?”
His eyes flashed, hard as the stone between her breasts. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re a coward.”
Her fist came up automatically. Oh, how she would have loved to have used it to wipe that self-righteous sneer from his face. If he hadn’t been right, she could have. So she used other weapons.
“You think you can make me depend on you, get used to living in that glorified fortress of yours and wearing silk. Well, I don’t give a damn about any of that.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“I don’t need your fancy food or your fancy gifts or your fancy words. I see the pattern, Roarke. Say I love you at regular intervals until she learns to respond. Like a well-trained pet.”
“Like a pet,” he repeated as his fury froze into ice. “I see I’m wrong. You are stupid. You really think this is about power and control? Have it your way. I’m tired of having you toss my feelings back in my face. My mistake for allowing it, but that can be rectified.”
“I never—”
