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Do a job in one place, bounce to another, and work there or take a nice holiday until things chilled out again. Hit Paris, zip back to New York, take in the opera, do some shopping, contemplate the view from your penthouse terrace while the French cops are chasing their own tails.
A quick trip to Vegas II, a little gambling to amuse yourself, hit your target, and take a luxury shuttle back home before Interplanetary gets the data up.
She glanced up as Roarke walked in. “Maybe he can pilot.”
“Hmmm?”
“You can’t always depend on public transpo, even premier class. You got delays, equipment failures, cancellations, rerouting. Why risk it? Private plane or private shuttle. Maybe both. Yeah, I can put McNab on that. Be like picking a needle out of a . . . a hill of needles, but we could get lucky. How come the cat didn’t follow you in?”
“Deserted me for Mick. They’re fast mates now.”
He wrapped his arm around her from behind, nuzzled her neck. “Shall I tell you how you looked striding across that restaurant tonight?”
“Like a cop. Sorry. I didn’t have time to change.”
“A very sexy cop. Long legs and lots of attitude. I appreciate you taking the time.”
“Yeah?” She turned. “I guess you owe me one.”
“At the very least.”
“I might have a way for you to pay up.”
“Darling.” His hands began to roam. “Happy to.”
“Not that way. You’re always good for sex.”
“Why . . . thank you.”
“So . . .” She nudged him back before his hands got too busy, then sat on the desk. “I had a couple of meets after the briefing. First was with Peabody.”
“That was good of you.”
“No, it wasn’t. I can’t count on her to focus if she’s moping around, can I? Don’t grin at me. It’ll piss me off.” She blew out a breath. “McNab gave her a hard shot by talking about his hot date tonight.”
“A standard and unimaginative ploy.”
“I don’t know anything about ploys. It hit the mark. Left her all sad and shaky. So I fed her ice cream, and let her dump on me. Now you get to hear it.”
“Do I get ice cream?”
“I don’t want to see anything from the ice-cream food group for at least two weeks.”
She filled him in, mostly because she wanted assurance she’d made the right moves, said the right things. He knew more about the lending a shoulder deal than she did.
“He’s jealous of Monroe. Understandably.”
“Jealousy is a small, ugly emotion.”
“And a human one. At this point, I’d say that his feelings for her are stronger, or at least clearer, than hers for him. It would be frustrating. Is frustrating,” he corrected, skimming his fingers along her jaw. “As I remember very well.”
“You got your way, didn’t you? Anyway, I’m hoping it blows over and they go back to sniping at each other like they used to, instead of groping in maintenance closets.”
“You really should try to rein in that wild romantic streak.”
“I’m not going to say I told you so.”
He laughed at her, at both of them. “Yes, you are.”
