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"I assume you'll take the body back yourself."
"Yes."
The burn in her gut spread to her heart. "I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know when you've finalized your plans."
He looked up then, and the emotions swimming in those beautiful eyes stabbed her heart. "Did you think I would send her back alone? That I would wash my hands of it and go about my business?"
"No. I've got work."
"For Christ's sake."
It was the tone, impatience, frustration, and just a whiff of amusement that had her whirling on him. "Don't take that line with me, pal. Don't try to make me feel like an idiot. You loved her. Okay, fine. Do what you have to do, and so will I."
He was swearing viciously by the time he caught her. Even the whiff of amusement was extinguished. "Yes, I loved her, and what we once had was important to me. Even so it wasn't so much as a shadow against what I feel for you. Is that what you want to hear?"
Shame rushed over her, smothering temper. "I don't know what's wrong with me. It's all pushing into my head." Feeling helpless, she lifted her fingers to press at her temples. "None of the others mattered because… I don't know, they just don't matter to me. She does, and I hate myself for being jealous, even for a minute, of a dead woman."
"Eve." He laid a hand on her cheek. "From the first moment I met you, every other woman paled for me."
She only felt more foolish."I wasn't groping, it's just—''
"You're all," he murmured, touching his lips to each pounding temple in turn. "You're only."
The burning around her heart turned to an ache, sweet and strong. "I need you." Her arms came tight around him, her mouth fused to his. "For so many things."
"Thank God." He deepened the kiss, gentled it until she sighed. "We'll take that hour now. Together."
*** CHAPTER ELEVEN ***
She could think again. Until she'd met Roarke, Eve hadn't realized how many benefits sex had to offer. Feeling limber, focused, and energized, she settled down in her office.
The new computer Roarke had arranged to have installed that morning was a beauty. Eve indulged herself, admiring it, tinkering with the tonal qualities. Her mood lifted even higher as it gobbled up the data she inp
uted like a hungry, yet well-mannered wolf.
"Oh, you honey," she murmured and stroked its sleek, stylishly black armor. "Okay, let's see what you can do. Run probability scan, file A data. What is the probability that victims Brennen, Conroy, and O'Leary were murdered by same perpetrator?"
Working, the computer announced in a creamy baritone enlivened with a hint of Parisian French. Before Eve could finish her grin, the scan was complete.
Probability ninety-nine point six three percent.
"Dandy, remain in file A. What is the probability that suspect Summerset committed murders?''
Working…. Probability eighty-seven point eight percent. With current data arrest warrant for murder, multiple, first degree, is recommended. Please advise if list of available judges is desired.
"No thanks, Bruno, but I appreciate the advice."
Please advise if you wish to contact the prosecuting attorney's office.
"Eve."
She looked over, saw Roarke in the doorway. "Hold on, Bruno." Eve swiped her hair back, rolled her shoulders. "I told you I was going to work."
"Yes, so you did." He wore only jeans, unhooked at the waist and obviously tugged on as an afterthought.
Despite the fact that her blood was still warm from him, it heated now. She found herself fantasizing about tugging those unfastened jeans off again, then maybe nipping her teeth into his firm, naked butt for good measure.
"Huh?" she managed when his voice got through her fantasy.
