“Vending Machine: "This product has no known nutritional value and may cause irritability or wakefulness in some individuals. Please enjoy your selection and your day."
Eve: "Up yours.”
“I want a riot laser," Eve snapped at Peabody. "Full body armor." She yanked a six-inch combat knife from its leather sheath and watched with glee, as its wicked serrated edge caught the sunlight through her little window.
Peabody's eyes popped. "Sir?"
"I'm going down to maintenance, and I'm going locked and loaded. I'm taking those piss-brain sons of bitches out, one by one. Then I'm going to haul what's left of the bodies into my vehicle and set it on fire."
"Jesus, Dallas, I thought we had a red flag."
"I've got a red flag. I've got one." Her eyes wheeled to Peabody. "I've got under fifty miles on my ride since those lying, cheating, sniveling shitheads said it was road ready. Road ready? Do you want me to tell you about road ready?"
"I would like that very much, Lieutenant. If you'd sheathe that knife first.”
“She turned toward Roarke's office, then stopped in the doorway. He was at his console; captain of his ship. He'd drawn his hair back so it lay on his neck in a short, gleaming black tail. His eyes were cool, cool blue. The colour they were when his mind was fully occupied. He'd taken off his dinner jacket, his shirt was loose at the collar, the sleeves rolled up. There was something... just something about that look that always and forever grabbed her in the gut. She could look at him for hours, and at the end of it, still marvel that he belonged to her.
"Someone wants to hurt you," she thought. "I'm not going to let them.”
“He was heading over the line when he strutted in here thinking he could rattle his federal balls at me.”
“Tag Feeney," Eve ordered when she was behind the wheel. "Have him run like crimes in and around London."
"It would be my honor, Mrs. Lieutenant Dallas Roarke." At Eve's burning look, Peabody only grinned. "Sorry. I just had to do it once. I'm over it.”
“You will be expected to obey orders, or this appointment can and will be terminated. Again, at the discretion of the primary. We run this by the book."
"I've always wondered. How many pages are in that book of yours?"
"And smart mouthing to the primary can result in disciplinary action."
"Darling. You know how that excites me.”
“When his mouth was on hers, when he could feel her about to shatter yet again, he plunged into her, knocking her over the edge with that first rough stroke.
And still he thought: More.
Even as she shuddered, he shoved her knees up and went deeper inside her. His vision blurred, but through the red haze of lust he could see her eyes. Deep, dark, glazed like glass to throw his own reflection back at him.
"I'm inside you." He panted it out as he pushed them both to madness. "Everything I am. Body, heart, mind."
She struggled through layers of pleasure to say the one thing he needed. Her hands wrapped around his wrists to hold the beat of his blood. "Let go. I'll stay with you."
He pressed his face to her hair, let both heart and mind go, and let body rule them both.”
“Worrying about me won't help you get your job done."
"Who says I'm worried?"
He stayed where he was; simply held out his hand.
She crossed to him, took it, gripped hard. "When I met you," she said carefully, "I didn't want you in my life. You were one big complication. Every time I looked at you, or heard your voice, or so much as thought about you, the complication got bigger."
"And now?"
"Now? You are my life." She gave his hand one last squeeze, then released. "Okay, enough mushy stuff. Olympus.”
“I'm not leaving."
"I want you out of the city, and now. If the chalet doesn't suit you, go where you like. But you will go."
"I have no intention of going anywhere."
"Fuck it. You're fired."
"Very well. I will remove my belongings and book a hotel until -- "
"Oh, shut up. Both of you shut the hell up." She fisted her hands in her hair, yanked fiercely. "Just my luck, you finally say the words I've been waiting over a year to hear and I can't do my happy dance. You expect him to put his tail between his skinny legs and hide?" she demanded of Roarke. "You think when you're in the middle of this kind of mess he's just going to bop over to Switzerland and yodel, or whatever the hell they do there?”
“That was the sound of a sneer."
"Was it?" Amused, aroused, he distracted her with a nibble on her bottom lip. "I can never tell the difference. And what sound is this?"
"What sound?"
He drove himself into her, one powerful and deep thrust that ripped a shocked cry from her throat.
"That one." He lowered his head, tasting the heat that rose to her flesh even as her hips arched to meet him. "And that one."
She struggled to get her breath back. "Tolerance," she managed.
"Oh, well, if that's the best we can do." He started to move back. She reared up, wrapped around him.
"I need to practice my tolerance." She skimmed the hair away from his face with her fingers, then fisted her hands. Her lips curved, met his.”
“That works for now." Eve's stomach began to clench and jitter. There were tears swimming in her aide's eyes. Peabody's lips were quivering. "What are you doing?" she demanded.
"Nothing. Sir."
"How come you're going to cry? You know how I feel about crying on the job."
"I'm not crying." And it appalled her that she was on the edge of it. "I just don't feel very well, that's all. I wonder, sir, if I could be excused from the briefing at sixteen hundred.”
“the ground—she was a little thing, barely a hundred pounds—until the lack of oxygen had her going limp.”
“Music on,” he ordered, and the swelling sounds of the aria from Carmen he’d already programmed into the entertainment system filled the room. Gorgeous, he thought,”
“Bet you haven’t had time to rub on the breast cream either.” She turned on Roarke. “Some reason you can’t slap some on your hands before you feel her up?” “I do try,” he said, throwing Eve to the wolves without a qualm. “She’s a difficult woman.” “Let”
“on the site you plan to hit, it’s going to beef up security.” “But we’d be looking for a killer. Not a thief.”
“The service bar in the parlor had been lightly used, some macadamias and”
“He stopped what he was doing and pulled out his magic phone.
Okay, the phone wasn't magic, but it does things my computer struggles with.”
“Measure the hate you feel now, and the shame. That quantity is your capacity also to love and to feel joy and to have compassion.”
“«Such is the irony of life,» Kruppe proclaimed, raising one pastry-filled hand over his head, «that one learns to distrust the obvious, surrendering instead to insidious suspicion and confused conclusion. But, is Kruppe deceived? Can an eel swim? Hurrah, these seeming muddy waters are home to Kruppe, and his eyes are wide with wonder.»”
“We all have a dark side, Reggie. You. Me. The old lady down the street. Henry. Everyone. We make the choice not to embrace it, but the dark is there. It's always there. Inside us.”
“I thought you'd be interested in these things as a government man. Ain't you mixed up in the prices of things we eat or something? Ain't that it? Making them more costly or something. Making the grits cost more and the grunts less?”
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