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“I just can’t think how you investigate murders.”
Eve glanced back at Natalie. “First I need a body.” She felt Roarke’s hand pat her thigh twice. “It’s a lot of details,” she continued. “And not nearly as interesting as it comes across in a vid or on screen.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. But I don’t suppose we want to talk of unpleasant things.” Natalie beamed again. “Sam was just about to tell the story of how he caught the biggest bass in Jasper County.”
“Wow.” It was all Eve could think to say, and she was grateful for the glass of champagne now in her hand. And the fact that Roarke had given her free one a squeeze under the table.
Just look at him, she thought, sitting there as though he couldn’t be more interested or enthralled to hear about some stupid fish. And of course, he’d know that every eye in the place would be turned on him at some point during the evening.
She couldn’t blame them. He sat, at ease, the half-smile on his gorgeous face, the light of interest in those laser-blue eyes. Candle-and lamplight gleamed in his hair, that thick mane of black.
When his lips curved more fully, her heart actually bumped her ribs. He could still do that to her, chase her heart to a gallop, stop her breath, melt her bones. And do all of that just with a look.
At some point she was given a menu, and on a quick scan saw that it was, indeed, the sort of fare that caused mild fear in her rather than hunger.
Sam and Natalie weren’t as terminally boring as she’d imagined they would be. Though there was a lot of talk about the sort of outdoorsy activities that caused more discomfort in her than fancy French food.
Hunting, fishing, hiking, riding in boats on rivers, sleeping in tents.
Maybe it was a kind of cult Roarke wanted to infiltrate.
But there was some humor in them, and an obvious enjoyment of the moment.
“This is just wonderful. Sam, this lobster puts your big bass to shame. You have to have a taste. We don’t spruce up very often,” she continued as she held her fork up for her husband. “We’re country people, and that’s how we like it. But it sure is fun to do the big city in a big way. I guess you’re used to it,” she said to Eve.
“I don’t spruce up very often either. Obviously.”
This time when Natalie smiled, there was more warmth to it. “Honey, if I looked like you in pants and a sweater, I wouldn’t wear anything else. Next time, you’ll have to come out and see us, and we’ll throw you a real Montana feed. Roarke, you’re just going to have to bring Eve out to see us.”
“I’ll have to do that.” He lifted his glass, smiled over the rim at Eve. And when someone said his name, and he glanced toward them, Eve saw something come into his eyes, just a flash of it. A something she’d only seen when he looked at her.
It was gone, shuttered down into polite pleasure. But it had been there. Very slowly, Eve tracked her gaze over, and saw her.
She was stunning, in a bold red dress that managed to be both elegant and sexy. Long legs ended in the glitter of paper-thin silver heels. Her hair was a long, waving stream of delicate blond, clipped at the sides with something small and sparkling. Her eyes were brilliantly green, full of life and excitement that translated to sexual power. Her lips were full, very red and lush against luminous skin.
“Roarke.”
She said it again in a kind of throaty purr that brought up the hackles on Eve’s back. And she glided as such women do, to the table, holding out her hands for his.
“‘Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,’” she murmured as he rose, and lifted her face for a kiss.
“Magdelana,” he said with the Irish in his voice cruising through the name, and he brushed her lips very lightly with his. “What a surprise.”
“I can’t believe it’s you!” Magdelana laid her hands on his cheeks, stroked. “And as handsome as ever. More. The years agreed with you, lover.”
“And with you. Eve, this is an old friend of mine, Magdelana Percell. Magdelana, my wife, Eve Dallas, and our friends, Sam and Natalie Derrick.”
“Wife? Oh, of course, of course. I heard. One does. I’m delighted to meet you. And you,” she said to the Derricks. “You’ll have to excuse me for breaking into your meal. All I saw was Roarke.” She smiled down at Eve, that glitter in her eyes. “You understand.”
“Oh, yeah.”
With another full-wattage smile, Magdelana dismissed Eve, then all but melted into Roarke. “I’ve only been in town a few days. I was going to contact you, see if we could make a date to catch up. It’s been, my goodness, ten years?”
“Nearer to twelve, I’d think.”
“Twelve!” She rolled her exquisite eyes. “Oh, Franklin, forgive me! My escort, Franklin James. This is Roarke, his wife, and the Derricks.”
“We know each other.” Roarke held out a hand. “Hello, Frank.”
