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“If I have to explain it, the joy is lost.”
“And how have you spent today?” Roarke asked her as the waitress brought four glasses and a bottle of red to the table.
“Shopping—I can’t stop myself—and I spent a wonderful two hours in the Metropolitan Museum. Had a late lunch.” She smiled at Webster when she said it.
A hot beam of a smile, Eve thought. Like a tropical sun.
Roarke sampled the wine, approved. “Plans for the evening?”
“The theater. My first Broadway musical. I’m looking forward to it. To all of it,” she added, then lifted her wine. “Since we’re about to enjoy this lovely wine, I assume both lieutenants are off duty.”
“Looks like it,” Eve murmured. “For now.”
“Good.” Darcia angled over, leaned in, kissed Webster—light, soft, like that tropical sun through palm fronds. “Hello.”
He grinned like a moron—in Eve’s opinion. “Hi.”
Eve raked a hand through her hair. “This is just weird.”
“I think it’s delightful.” Roarke lifted his glass. “To new friends.”
Roarke took the wheel for the drive home. “Are you sulking, darling?”
“I’m not sulking. I’m thinking. I have a lot on my mind.” Sulking, she thought. What a crock. And speaking of crocks. “What the hell are they thinking, starting this up? They don’t even live on the same planet.”
“Love finds a way.”
“Love? Jesus, they met five minutes ago.”
“A bit longer than that, obviously.”
“Like a day. And now they’re all shiny-eyed, late lunch, theater going, and if they haven’t banged each other yet, that’s the entree on the after-theater menu.”
He swallowed a laugh, barely, and sent her a pseudo-sympathetic glance. “A little jealous, are you, watching a former flame light up for someone else?”
“I’m not jealous! I didn’t have any flame. He had the flame, and I never wanted him to have any flame. You damn well know I didn’t—” She broke off, and the sound she made was nearly a growl. “You did that on purpose, to trip me up.”
“Irresistible. I thought they looked wonderful together—and happy.”
“Happy-sappy, that’s not the point. I need Webster focused. This whole thing’s going to break, and soon. And he’s busy falling for somebody—somebody completely inappropriate given their situation.”
“Ah, that takes me back.”
“What?”
“How two other people who could have been considered completely inappropriate for each other, given their situation, fell in love when you needed to be focused on a difficult investigation.”
He took her hand now, brought it to his lips. “Love found a way. And justice was served.”
He made it hard to argue—and the old standby that was different sounded stupid even in her head. “You have to think it’s weird.”
“I think possibilities often come unexpectedly, and what you do with them, how much you’re willing to risk for them, can change your life and make it more than you ever imagined it could be. You changed mine.”
“This isn’t about us.”
“If you’d followed logic, a grha, if you’d followed the part of your head that said no, this is inappropriate, and impossible, you’d never have let me in.”
“You’d have broken in,” she muttered.
