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He had the screen on, and a news report was humming. His desk ’link beeped and was ignored.
There was a scent to the room that was money, that was power. That was Roarke. Inside her rose a need basic as breath.
And he turned to her.
With her eyes locked on his she crossed the room, jerked him to her by his shirtfront, and captured his mouth with hers.
In the headset a voice continued to buzz in his ear, dim under the stirring of his own blood. He caught her hips, pressed heat against heat.
“Later,” he muttered into the headset, then pulled it off, tossed it aside. “Welcome home, Lieutenant, and congratulations.” He lifted a hand to brush it over her hair. “I caught your press conference on Seventy-five.”
“Then you know it’s over.” She offered the verbena. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome.” He sniffed the flower. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“As a matter of fact.” She tugged the band out of his hair. “I’ve got another assignment for you.”
“Really? My schedule’s a bit tight right now, but I want to do my civic duty.” He tucked the little flower behind her ear. “What sort of assignment is it? And be specific.”
“You want me to be specific?”
“I do, yes. Very . . . very specific.”
With a laugh, she boosted herself up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. “I want you to get naked.”
“Ah, an undercover assignment.” Bracing her hips, he started toward his office elevator. “Is it dangerous?”
“It’s deadly. Neither of us may make it out alive.”
Inside the elevator, he pressed her back against the wall. Felt the strength of her—and the yielding. “Master bedroom,” he ordered, then ravaged her mouth. “I live for danger. Tell me more.”
“It involves a lot of physical exertion. Timing . . .” Her breath clogged when his teeth found her throat. “Rhythm, coordination has to be perfect.”
“Working on it,” he managed and swung her out of the elevator into the bedroom.
The cat, stretched across the bed like a fat, furry rag, leaped up with a hissing complaint when they dropped onto the mattress beside him. Roarke reached out, gave him a light shove that sent him jumping down with a thud.
“This is no place for civilians.”
With a snort of laughter, Eve locked her arms tight around him. “Naked.” She raced kisses over his face. “Get naked. I want to sink my teeth into you.”
Tugging at clothes, they rolled over the bed. Her shirt tangled in her weapon harness, making her curse breathlessly as she fought free of both. Their mouths met again, a frantic mating of lips, teeth, tongues that had the blood rushing hot through her veins and her body plunging under his.
She tugged at his shirt, yanking it down from his shoulders so she could dig her fingers into that hard ripple of muscle and test strength to str
ength.
But he caught her hands in his, drew her arms over her head. Stared down at her with those depthless blue eyes until her own muscles began to quake.
“I love you. Darling Eve. Mine.” He lowered his mouth to hers in a soft, soft kiss that turned those trembling muscles to water.
His mouth left hers to skim along her jaw, down the column of her throat. He would know, she thought as her heart shuddered. He would know she needed more than the flash and the fire. She needed the sweet and the simple.
She relaxed and drew it in.
He felt her open, surrender herself. There was, for him, no more powerful seduction than the yielding of her to him, and to herself. When she accepted the tenderness inside him, he found himself filled with bottomless wells of it.
Gently, his lips slid over her skin, savoring the flavor. Gently, his hands played over her body, cherishing the shape. Her heart beat thick under the glide of his tongue. And she reached down to cradle his head against her when he nuzzled lazily at her breast.
