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“What a woman you are,” he murmured, and she heard the emotion in it, the way the Irish thickened just a bit in his voice. And saw it in those vivid eyes when he drew back. “That you would think of this. That you would do this.” He shook his head, kissed her. Like the breath, long and quiet. “I can’t thank you enough. There isn’t enough thanks. I can’t say what this means to me, even to you. I don’t have the words for it.” He took her hands, brought them both to his lips. “A ghra. You stagger me.” He framed her face now, touched his lips to her brow. “You’re the beat of my heart, the breath in my body, the light in my soul.”

“He stepped to her again, laid his lips on her brow. "But I want children with you, my lovely Eve. One day." "One day being far, far in the future. Like, I don't know, say a decade when...Hold on. Children is plural." He eased back, grinned. "Why, so it is--nothing slips by my canny cop." "You really think if I ever actually let you plant something in me--they're like aliens in there, growing little hands and feet." She shuddered. "Creepy. If I ever did that, popped a kid out--which I think is probably as pleasant a process as having your eyeballs pierced by burning, poisonous sticks, I'd say, 'Whoopee, let's do this again?' Have you recently suffered head trauma?" "Not to my knowledge." "Could be coming. Any second.”

“Goddamn Summerset. I've told him to leave my car when I park it." "I think he did." Peabody flipped on her sunshades, pointed. "It's blocking the drive, see?" "Oh, yeah." Eve cleared her throat. The car was just as she'd left it, and fluttering in the mild breeze were a few torn articles of clothing. "Don't ask," she muttered and started to hoof it down the drive. "I wasn't going to." Peabody's voice was smooth as silk, "Speculation's more interesting.”

“Pull yourself together, Detective. You're embarrassing yourself, and more imprtant, you're embarrassing me." "They're going to do it outside. In public." "So the fuck what?" "Public," Peabody said, head still between her knees. "You're being honored by this department and this city for having the integrity, the courage, and the skill to take out a blight on this department and this city. Dirty, murdering, greedy, treacherous cops are sitting in cages right now because you had that integrity, courage, and skill. I don't care if they do this damn thing in Grand Central, you will get on your feet. You will not puke, pass out, cry like a baby, or squeal like a girl. That's a goddamn order." "I had more of a 'Relax, Peabody, this is a proud moment' sort of speech in mind," McNab murmured to Roarke. Roarke shook his head, grinned. "Did you now? You've a bit to learn yet, haven't you?”

“I wasn't going to have dessert, but it was right there, all gooey and sweet. It's like sex. I mean, when it's right there, what are you supposed to do? I wasn't going to have that either--sex--with my parents bunking in the office, but, well, it was right there." "I'll tolerate the gooey and sweet, Peabody, but I'm not thinking about you having sex with McNab, especially in the same sentence as 'my parents.'" "I think they had sex, too." Eve struggled not to wince or twitch. "Do you want me to kick you down four flights of steps and make you walk up again?" "I'd probably bounce all the way down, too, with all this gooey and sweet in my butt. So I guess not." "Good choice.”

“Trina and her consultants will be here by four to start setting up.” “Joy and—what? Who? Trina? Why? What have you done?” “You said no silly games, and no strippers,” Peabody reminded her. “We’re doing the full-out girl party. Champagne, decadent food, body, hair, face treatments. Chick-vids, presents, gooey desserts. Big girl slumber party, followed by champagne brunch tomorrow.” “You mean . . .” The shock was sharp and cruel, a stunner blast against the heart. “Overnight? All night into tomorrow?” “Yeah.” Peabody grinned around her carrot. “Didn’t I mention that?” “I have to kill you now.” “Uh-uh. No games, no strippers. Those were your only rules.” “I’ll find a way to hurt you for this.”

“Kiss me goodbye.” “I already kissed you goodbye this morning. Twice.” “Third time lucky.” He planted his lips firmly on hers. “I’ll be in touch, Lieutenant.” He strolled out. Even before he hit the sidewalk a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and a driver hopped out to open the door. Like magic, Eve thought. “I’d like to be in touch with him. Anytime. Anywhere. Any way.” Eve turned her head slowly. “Did you say something, Peabody?” “Who, sir, me, sir? Nope. Absolutely not.” “Good.”

“She would be a sparkling accent on his arm. She speaks flawless French and Italian, and has a limitless supply of charm when she wishes to dispense it. And'd she'll use him. She'll take, take more. If it was necessary, or if she simply had the whim, she'd toss him to the wolves to see who'd win." He finished the whiskey. "You, Lieutenant, are often crude, you are certainly rude, and have very little sense of how to be the wife--in public--of a man in Roarke's position. And you would do anything, no matter what the personal risk, to keep him from harm. She will never love him. You will never do anything but.”

“Why doesn't it bother her? Seriously, it doesn't. She's not putting on a front. She's in a serious relationship with a guy who has sex with other women for a living, and it doesn't matter to her." "I married a cop." Roarke smiled at her. "We all have our levels of acceptance. He was an LC when they met, just as she was a doctor, and one who often works in dangerous areas of the city." She shot him the same easy smile. "So...if I'd been an LC when we met, you wouldn't have any problem with me banging other guys. Professionally." "None at all, as I'd kick your ass and murder all of them. But that's my level of acceptance.”