AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Probably not, but it’s a really nice thought.” She angled toward him, tipped her head back, found his lips with hers.
Glided skin to skin.
“And an even better one,” Roarke murmured.
Twin beeps sounded from the ’links they’d both set on the table near the pool.
“What the hell? That’s not my signal.”
“It’s the notification signal, on both,” he told her.
“I didn’t set any notification.”
“I did—on both. Bugger it.” He shoved back his hair, climbed out of the pool, grabbed a towel. “For the bloody medal business this afternoon.”
“What? Today? It’s today?” And how had she managed to completely erase it from her mind. “What’s worse than bugger it? I want something worse.”
He only sighed, tossed her a towel. “We’ll get through it, then it’ll be done.”
“I’ve got a homicidal crazy as lucky as he is stupid to find, and you’ve got a horde of Irish relatives coming in. You should tell Whitney we need to pass—postpone,” she amended.
On the faintest smile, he angled his head. “I should?”
“He’s my superior. I can’t tell him we’re too busy.” She hissed at Roarke’s steady stare. “And neither can you. I mean, you could, but you won’t—and I get it. Damn it. It’s an honor. It really is,” she continued as she dried off. “But why does it have to be a public one? It’s your fault.”
“Mine?” Amusement growing, he hooked the towel around his waist. “And why is that, exactly?”
“Because you’re really rich and famous, so that plays into the politics.”
“Well, that’s an interesting conclusion. I thought that played into the difficult politics of it all, and why they’ve held you back from captain until recently.”
“It’s all stupid politics. Who knows which way they roll?”
“But my fault, whichever direction?”
“Yeah. Yours.”
“And it wouldn’t have anything to do with you being so fucking brilliant at your work?” He arched his eyebrows over eyes dancing with humor.
“I ought to be able to be fucking brilliant at my work without them making me stand in front of crowds of people and cameras and Christ knows. How come I get punished for being good?”
“It’s an honor, remember? And, yes, a punishment from your view. And bloody sticky from mine. It’s what I get for marrying a cop.”
She jabbed a finger at him. “Warned you.”
Laughing now, he grabbed her, spun her around. “I wouldn’t have it otherwise, even with the bleeding medal. So we’ll suck it up, Lieutenant.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and I’ll be putting restraints on Reinhold this afternoon. Even the mayor can’t argue that one.”
“Let’s hope. And let’s eat. I’m starving.”
She ate, even though he pushed stupid oatmeal on her. And since she’d gotten a jump-start on her day, started the next round in her home office. Galahad joined her, sitting in her sleep chair giving himself a casual morning wash.
“The computer likes the model for his next target,” she told him. “I don’t know about that.” While Galahad continued to wash, she rose to study the board. “Female, probably physically weaker, so that’s a plus. But she has a male cohab. She lives uptown—out of his current comfort zone. Even without the police protection he shouldn’t know about, her building has top-notch security. He’s going to want her,” Eve mused. “And yeah, he probably wants her now, but he doesn’t have the chops to get past her security a
nd her cohab.”
Baxter’s report had confirmed Marlene Wizlet rated Extra Frosty with a Side of Yow. More important, he assessed her security—electronic and human—as solid, the cohab as smart, and protective enough to have already hired a bodyguard.
