“For once, he slept first. She lay in the dark, listening to him breathe, stealing a little of his warmth as her own body cooled. Since he was asleep, she stroked his hair.
"I love you," she murmured. "I love you so much, I'm stupid about it."
With a sigh, she settled down, closed her eyes, and willed her mind to empty.
Beside her, Roarke smiled into the dark.
He never slept first.”
“Eve: "Was that like a cookie?"
Roarke: "Hmmm?"
Eve: "You know, have a cookie. You'll feel better. Were you making me feel better?"
Roarke: "I certainly hope so, it worked for me. I wanted you. I always do."
Eve: "It's funny how men can wake up with their brains in their cocks."
Roarke: "It makes us what we are. Let's take a shower. I'll give you another cookie.”
“Peabody, you never cease to amaze me."
"One day I'll tell you about my granny and her five lovers."
"Five lovers isn't abnormal for a woman's lifetime."
"Not in her lifetime; last month. All at the same time." Peabody glanced up, deadpan. "She's ninety-eight. I hope to take after her.”
“By the way, Dallas?"
"What, Peabody?"
"That's a lovely tattoo. New?"
Eve clamped her teeth together, strode toward the door with as much dignity as she could manage. "See?" She jabbed a finger into Roarke's chest as they walked down the corridor. "I told you I'd be humiliated by that stupid rosebud."
"You've been drugged, slapped, tied up naked, and nearly killed, but a rose on your butt humiliates you?"
"All that other stuff's the job. The rosebud's personal."
Laughing, he swung his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "Christ, Lieutenant, I love you.”
“Christ, she missed him outrageously. Disgusted with herself, she ducked her head under the spray and let it pound on her brain.
When hands slipped around her waist, then slid up to cup her breasts, she barely jolted. But her heart leaped. She knew his touch, the feel of those long, slim fingers, the texture of those wide palms. She tipped her head back, inviting a mouth to the curve of her shoulder.
"Mmm. Summerset. You wild man."
Teeth nipped into flesh and made her chuckle. Thumbs brushed over her soapy nipples and made her moan.
"I'm not going to fire him." Roarke trailed a hand down the center of her body.
"It was worth a shot. You're back..." His fingers dipped expertly inside her, slick and slippery, so that she arched, moaned, and came simultaneously. "Early," she finished on an explosive breath. "God."
"I'd say I was just on time.”
“Pay up."
Eve rolled over, rubbed her bare butt, and wondered if she'd have rug burns. Still vibrating from the last orgasm, she closed her eyes again. "Huh?"
"Fifty credits." He leaned over, gently kissed the tip of her breast. "You lost, Lieutenant."
"I'm naked," she pointed out. "I don't generally keep credits up my -- "
"I'm happy to take your IOU." He rose, all graceful, gleaming muscles, and took a memo card from his console. "Here you are." Handed it to her.
She stared down at it, knowing dignity was as lost as the fifty credits. "You're really enjoying this."
"Oh, more than you can possibly imagine."
Scowling at him, she engaged the memo. "I owe you, Roarke, fifty credits, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve." She shoved the memo at him. "Satisfied."
"In every possible way." He thought, sentimentally, that he would tuck the memo away with the little gray suit button he'd kept from their very first meeting. "I love you, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, in every possible way.”
“I don't want to hear from Traffic that my husband was hotdogging the skyways in his minichopper."
"You won't. I bribe too well.”
“Since we're into witches, let's swing by and check out this Isis at Spirit Quest." She slid her eyes right. Well, maybe she'd rag just a little. "You can probably buy a talisman or some herbs," she said solemnly. "You know, to ward off evil."
Peabody shifted in her seat. Feeling foolish wasn't nearly as bad as worrying about being cursed. "Don't think I won't."
"After we deal with Isis, we can grab a pizza sub -- with plenty of garlic."
"Garlic's for vampires."
"Oh. We can have Roarke get us a couple of his antique guns. With silver bullets."
"Werewolves, Dallas." Amused at both of them now, Peabody rolled her eyes. "A lot of good you're going to do if we have to defend ourselves against witchcraft."
"What does it to witches, then?"
"I don't know," Peabody admitted. "But I'm damn sure going to find out.”
“She let her body go limp, moaned, and combed her fingers through his hair, ran them over his shoulders. "Your jacket," she murmured and tugged at it. When he shifted to shrug free, she had him.
It was a basic tenet of hand-to-hand. Never lower your guard. She scissored, shoved, and pinned him with a knee to the crotch and an elbow to the throat.
"You're tricky." He calculated he could dislodge the elbow, but the knee... There were some things a man didn't care to risk. He kept his eyes on hers and slowly, carefully skimmed his fingertips up her bare torso, circled her breast. "I admire that in a woman."
"You're easy." His thumb brushed lightly over her nipple, quickening her breath. "I admire that in a man."
"Well, you've got me now." He unsnapped her waistband, teased her stomach muscles to quiver. "Be kind."
She grinned, levered her elbow away to brace her hands on either side of his head. "I don't think so." Lowering her head, she caught his mouth with hers.”
“She took a small device out of her bag, slipped it into her pocket.
"Micro recorder?" Roarke clucked his tongue. "I believe that's illegal. Not to mention rude."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"And unnecessary," he added. He turned his wrist, tapped a tiny button on the side of his watch. "This one is much more efficient. I should know. I manufacture both brands." He smiled as the car stopped at the edge of a small clearing”
“When it’s my turn, don’t do this. Recycle the parts, burn the rest.”
“Reaching into his pocket, he took out the amulet Isis had given him the night before, slipped it over Eve's neck.
"What's this for?"
"It looks better on you than me."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Bull. You're being superstitious."
"No, I'm not," he lied and set her plate in with his before he shifted and began to unbutton her shirt.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Passing the time." His hands, clever and quick, swooped down to take her breasts. "It'll take an hour to get there by car."
"I'm not having sex in the back of a limo," she told him. "It's -- "
"Delicious," he finished and replaced his hands with his mouth.”
“Your heart runs deep. It is…choosy. It is careful, but when it’s given, it’s complete.”
“It would be sheer hell to be privy to thoughts and memories without some power to control and block. I don’t like to pry into personal thoughts. And it hurts,”
“shit assignments on.” “Your faith in me is touching, Dallas. Chokes me up.” She hissed at the computer. “Or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve got yellow sheets in here from five years ago that’s choking me. These should have been downloaded to the main and cleared out of your unit after twenty-four months.” “So download and clear now.” Eve’s smile widened as the machine hacked, then droned out a warning of system failure. “And good luck.” “Technology can be our friend. And like any friendship, it requires regular maintenance and understanding.” “I understand it fine.” Eve stepped”
“Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and aide, Peabody,”
“Every religion should be open to questions and change.”
“But where do you go to get away from what’s always there?”
“You underestimate yourself if you think any woman would have to pretend to have feelings for you.”
“Of all reviews, the crushing review is the most popular, as being the most readable.”
“The point is not the honest relief of suffering but the promulgation of a cult based on death and suffering and subjection. Mother”
“I had to rush back into my bedroom because Mum suddenly came out of the room to the kitchen and shouted up to me: "Georgia, I know you are at the top of the stairs. Come down – you have a visitor and your father wants to speak to you."
My father?
Wants to speak to me?
I have a visitor?
It's like Blithering Heights. If Masimo is dressed in tight breeches and wearing a cravat I will truly go mad.”
“La dernière chose qu'on trouve en faisant un ouvrage est de savoir celle qu'il faut mettre la première. (The last thing one settles in writing a book is what one should put in first.)”
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