Page 24 of Random in Death

“Six it is then.”

“You don’t have to get up at six. You have a free day.”

“To paraphrase Ian, I go with the Boss Cop. No, not to the morgue.” Since she was fading, he guided her to the bed, where the cat sprawled. “But I’ll get you up, Lieutenant.”

“’Kay.”

She yanked off her boots, her clothes, and would’ve fallen facedown on the bed if he hadn’t pulled the spread off first.

She was out before he slid in beside her.

The cat stirred enough to rearrange himself.

Roarke brushed his lips over her hair, closed his eyes. And dropped into sleep with her.

At six, he woke her with coffee, and even through the grogginess, she decided he was the most magnificent human in the history of humans.

Enough so she set the coffee aside, crooked her finger. “C’mere.”

With her arms around his neck, she kissed him, long, slow, deep.

“That’s exceedingly unfair when you’re soft and sleepy and naked.”

“I know.” She dropped her heavy head on his shoulder. “For me, too, and you’re not even naked.”

Then she pushed him back, grabbed the coffee.

“Thanks for this. I’m going to blast myself awake in the shower. Five minutes. And for the second time in a row, I won’t bitch if you pick out some clothes.”

He knew her idea of blasting away meant calling for the shower temp to hit close to boiling. It nearly made him shudder as he strolled to her closet and considered.

Another hot one forecast, he thought, and opted for linen trousers in pale gray, a crisp white shirt with half sleeves, a dark gray vest, boots and belt to match, with a pale gray linen jacket if she did fieldwork and needed to cover her weapon.

Both the vest and jacket had the Thin Shield lining, so she’d be as safe as he could make her.

And look crisp and fresh while she went about it.

He laid out the clothes just as she opened the door, a bit flushed from the heat of the drying tube.

“Great, thanks. Need more.” “More” meant coffee, and she hit up the bedroom AutoChef before she dressed.

“You’ll eat something while you work.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He only lifted his eyebrows. He’d see she had a bacon and egg pocket, with a bit of spinach she’d hardly notice.

“What’re you going to do while I’m at Central?”

“I imagine I’ll find something to occupy myself.”

As she hooked on her weapon harness, she lifted her eyebrows at him. “You’re going to work, aren’t you? Maybe buy a small country.”

“Only a small one?”

“It’s Sunday, so on the small side.”

“Ah, I see. Actually, I may wander out and take a look at your new property. You’ll need to think of a name for the club there. You won’t want to call it Stoner’s.”

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