Page 97 of Concealed in Death

“Sure I can. It’s my dream, and I’m in charge here.”

“I don’t like when people fight.” Iris put her hands over her ears, began to rock. “People shouldn’t fight.”

“Where’s your dog?” Eve wondered. “Didn’t you have a dog?”

“We don’t have to listen to you!” Shelby shouted, running to each girl, hauling her up to stand. “We don’t have to talk to you. We don’t have to do anything you say. Because we’re dead! And it’s not my fault.”

“Jesus. Shut up. Shut up so I can think.”

“You’re the one doing all the talking.”

Eve blinked her eyes open, looked blurrily around the dimly lit room. “What?”

“That should be my question.” Roarke stroked a hand over her hair. “Who needs to shut up?”

“Shelby. The girls came back. That Shelby. Bitching, whining, bitching. I probably would, too, if somebody drowned me in the tub. What time is it?”

“Early.” He leaned over to touch his lips to hers. “Go back to sleep.”

She sniffed him. “You’re up, just out of the shower.”

“Can’t fool an ace detective.”

“Your hair’s still damp.” She walked her fingers through it. “And you smell really good.” And her detective skills told her he wore nothing but a towel. “I bet you have a ’link conference with Pluto and a holo-meeting with Istanbul or somewhere scheduled.”

“And a mind reader as well. What a lucky man I am.”

“You could get luckier.” She skimmed a hand down his chest, down his belly, down. And grinned. “But I see you knew that.”

“I’ve deductive powers of my own.”

She used her other hand, tugged him down by his hair. “What else you got?”

“Apparently a randy wife.” His hands got busy as well, skimming up and under the thin nightshirt she wore. “Pluto can wait.”

“Now, how many people can say that?” She tugged again so his lips came to hers.

And in the thrill of the long, lazy kiss, wrapped her arms, her legs around him, holding him tight and close.

Because she was lucky, and wouldn’t forget it. She had lived through it, all that had come before. And she was in the big warm bed with the frostiest guy on or off planet. The man who loved her, wanted her, tolerated her, and understood her.

Whatever the day brought when it dawned, she had this, she had him, to begin it.

“I love you.” She tightened around him. “I really mean it.”

“I love you.” She felt his lips curve against her throat. “I really mean it.”

“Show me.”

She arched toward him. He slid into her.

On the slow rise, the slow fall, he watched her face in the quiet light. Happy, he thought, there in her eyes, in the easy, fluid move of her body, in the quickening beat of her heart.

Whatever had troubled her in dreams she’d set aside, for this, for him. For them.

He touched his lips to her cheek, then the other, her brow, then her lips. To show her.

Dawn crept closer as they gave pleasure and took it. She sighed, a simple sound of bliss, stroked her hands down his back, up again until her fingers tangled in his hair.

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