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Games, she thought again. Maybe it all boiled down to games, and she just hadn’t looked closely enough at the rules and players. “What’s wrong with being who you are?”
“It’s not enough for everyone. And this sort of thing attracts the lonely and the egocentric.”
“And fanatics.”
“Certainly. E-services, particularly underground ones, provide the fanatic with an open forum.” He cocked a brow, cut neatly into his steak. “They also provide a service—educational for that matter—informative, intellectual. And can be perfectly harmless entertainment. They’re legal,” he reminded her. “Even the underground ones aren’t closely regulated. And that stems mainly from the fact that it’s nearly impossible to do so. And cost prohibitive.”
“EDD keeps a line on them.”
“To some extent. Look here.” He swung back, tapped out a few keys, and had a display sliding onto one of the wall screens. “See that? It’s nothing more than a somewhat amusing diatribe about a new version of Camelot. A multiuser role playing program, hologram optional,” he explained. “Everyone wants to be king. And there.” He gestured to another screen. “A very straightforward advertisement for a partner in Erotica, a sexual fantasy VR program, dual remote controls mandatory.” He grinned at her knitted brow. “One of my companies manufactures it. It’s quite popular.”
“I bet.” She didn’t ask if he’d tried it out himself. Some data sh
e didn’t need. “I don’t get it. You can rent a licensed companion, probably cheaper than the cost of that program. You get sex in the flesh. Why do you need this?”
“Fantasy, darling. Having control or abdicating it. And you can run the program over and over, with nearly unlimited variations. It’s mood again, and mind. All fantasies are mood and mind.”
“Even the fatal ones,” she said slowly. “Isn’t that what this is all about? Having control. Ultimate control over someone else’s mood and mind. They don’t even know they’re playing the game. That’s the big kick. You’d need a huge ego and no conscience. Mira says Jess doesn’t fit.”
“Ah. That’s a problem, isn’t it?”
She flicked a look down at him. “You don’t sound surprised.”
“He’s what, in my alley days in Dublin, we would have called a fug—cross between a fuck and a pug. Lots of mouth and no balls. I never met a fug who could draw blood without whining.”
She cleaned the steak off her plate and set it aside. “It seems to me that killing in this manner is bloodless. Cowardly. Fuglike.”
He grinned at that. “Well put, but fugs don’t kill, they just talk.”
She hated that she was beginning to agree and had muscled her way down what looked like a dead end with Jess Barrow. “I’ve got to have more. How much longer do you figure?”
“Until I’m through. You can keep yourself occupied with the data on the VR unit.”
“I’ll come back to it. I’m going to go down to Reeanna’s office. I can just leave her a memo about Jess if she’s not back from dinner.”
“Fine.” He didn’t try to dissuade her. She had to move, he knew. To take some action. “Will you come back up when you’re done, or will I meet you at home?”
“I don’t know.” He looked perfect there, she thought, sitting in his snazzy office, manipulating controls. Maybe everyone wanted to be king, she mused, but Roarke was content being Roarke.
His gaze shifted to hers, held. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“You’re exactly what you want to be. That’s a pretty good deal.”
“Most of the time. And so are you what you want to be.”
“Most of the time,” she murmured. “I’ll check in with Feeney and Peabody after I meet with Reeanna. See if anything’s come loose. Thanks for dinner—and the compu-time.”
“You can pay me back.” He took her hand, rose. “I want, very much, to make love with you tonight.”
“You don’t have to ask.” Flustered, she moved her shoulders. “We got married and everything.”
“Let’s say asking is part of the fantasy.” He moved in, just a little; touched his lips to hers, just a whisper. “Let me woo you tonight, darling Eve. Let me surprise you. Let me . . . seduce you.” He laid a hand on her heart, felt the hard, thick beat of it. “There,” he murmured. “I’ve already started.”
Her knees were quivering. “Thanks. That’s just what I need to keep my mind focused on my work.”
“Two hours.” This time he lingered over the kiss. “Then let’s take something for ourselves.”
“I’ll try.” She stepped back while she was sure she still could, walked quickly toward the door. Then she turned back, just looked at him. “Two hours,” she told him. “Then you can finish what you started.”
