Page 106 of Festive in Death

“There’s little more satisfying about giving than in seeing the receiver so genuinely happy.”

“Ha, that slides along with my quick talk with Charles about sex. Case-related sex.”

“Naturally.”

“Plus I wanted to give Louise her thing. I need to get Mira and Nadine and the others to give those things. Then I’ll be done.”

“And if you take a few moments to brainstorm—case-related? I’m fine with it. As long as you dance with me.”

“But—”

The music had changed, turned slow, romantic, a little dreamy. Still, she always felt so damn awkward dancing in public. He gathered her in, circled with her, laughed into her eyes.

“You have such interesting areas of modesty. Couples routinely hold each other when they dance slow.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I bet not that many of them have their commanding officer watching.”

“A dance. I’m not taking off your clothes, Eve.”

“I bet you are in your mind.”

“Well, I am now, so thanks for the idea.”

When she laughed at that, he caught her for a quick, light kiss. She responded by linking her arms around his neck.

“What the hell. It’s a Christmas party.”

Eve always felt strange and a little awkward socializing with Commander Whitney. Her strongest image of him would always be of him behind his big desk, New York City rising up in the window behind him. His dark, careworn face sober, his broad shoulders holding the weight of command.

So seeing him dancing (including the booty shake already mentioned by McNab) with his elegant and somewhat scary wife just threw her world out of kilter.

She didn’t have the knack for mingling—not like Roarke, who apparently knew everyone on or off planet, or had the talent to act as though he did. Still she handled the small-talk thing, even with people she didn’t know. Bigwigs from what she thought of as the Roarke Universe, their spouses or dates, research-and-development types, business colleagues.

Mostly they wanted to talk to each other, or dance or hit the bar and buffets so she could do the duty, and move on.

But it struck her odder yet to see her people mix with his. To see Baxter leaning on one of the tables chatting up one of Roarke’s R&D execs. Then again, the exec was female, single, and sexy, so it wasn’t a shock.

And there was Caro, Roarke’s efficient admin, dancing with the adorable Dennis Mira. Over there, Santiago engaged in an obviously animated discussion with a couple of Roarke engineers over tall glasses of brew.

“Here.” Nadine walked up, handed Eve a flute. “Even in that amazing dress you look too much like a cop just standing over here.”

“The worlds have collided. I observe,” Eve said and sipped. “And there doesn’t seem to be any damage or destruction.”

Nadine scanned as Eve did. “You’ve thrown parties including both worlds before.”

“Yeah, but they seem to get more heavily populated, and the natives from each have more crossover.”

“And still, the planet spins,” Nadine finished. “I love your parties. First because I know there are going to be so many people here I know and like, and people I may not know who are interesting. And second, in a case like tonight, I get a fabulous gift. I really do love that bag.”

“Why do you haul around so much stuff? That’s the question.”

“How do I know what I might need at any given time during the day? It’s better to be prepared for anything. Oh, Morris is going to play with the band. I love when he plays the sax. He’s better,” she said quietly, “but still carrying a lot of sad. I’ve never lost anyone I’ve really loved. I don’t know how anyone handles it.”

“Silver shirt, red tie, silver band through the braid.”

Nadine angled her head. “What?”

“Color. He’s been wearing more color again for a while. He’s getting through it.”

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