Page 71 of Passions in Death
She lay under the weight of him, dazed and drowsy. She felt his heart pounding against hers, or hers pounded against his. She couldn’t quite tell the difference.
The moon held a new place in the sky window, white and clear against the dark.
Her lips curved when he pressed his to the side of her neck.
“I believe I did my job.”
“Damn good job. Kudos. Where does that come from? Kudos? What language is that?”
“Don’t make me have to distract you again.” He shifted her, nestled her in. “Give that mind of yours a rest.”
“You don’t have another distraction in you?”
“Well now, if that’s a challenge—”
“No.” She managed a sleepy laugh. “I’m tapped out.” But she laid a hand on his cheek. “And the cat’s back,” she added when Galahad jumped on the bed again.
As she began to drift off, it occurred to her they had a really big bed, and she ended up sleeping in it night after night, wedged between Roarke and the cat.
And she liked it.
Chapter Eleven
It didn’t surprise her to find herself within a dream. The dead woman preyed on her mind.
Maybe being murdered in the same room where she herself had been targeted for death played into it. Maybe dying right before her wedding as she herself might have played into it.
Whatever reason nudged at her subconscious, she stood in the Down and Dirty with the music pounding, the holo-band rocking. Onstage with them, Shauna Hunnicut and Nadine Furst, both half-naked, danced like lunatics.
There was Peabody, with her bowl cut, giggling like a drunk teenager, and Angie Decker laughing with Mira. Mavis, with no baby belly, standing on a table. Crack at the bar, grinning as he mixed a drink for Lopez.
All of this happened, she thought. Different times, but the same place, and now it blurred together into one wild and singular party.
“They’re having so much fun.” Erin stood beside her wearing the pink heels, the grass skirt, coconut bra. “Celebrating for us.”
“I wasn’t really into it,” Eve said. “I was just coming around to understanding I wanted the whole marriage thing. It still scared the crap out of me, but I wanted it. I just didn’t know why I wanted it.”
“I wasn’t scared, and I wanted it more than I ever wanted anything. More than anything.” Erin said it softly, like a sigh. “But we both loved, you and me. We loved somebody who loved us, and we both had friends who wanted to celebrate that. That’s really mag.”
Erin looked down at herself, brushed a hand over the grass skirt. “I never had a chance to put this on and make Shauna’s dream come true. We never had a chance to put on our white dresses and make the promises you made.”
“No, you didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m no expert,” Eve added, “but I think you’d’ve made a solid life together.”
“Who says you’re no expert?” Erin did a little hula that made the grass skirt sway. “You know people. You get under the skin and know who they are.”
“That’s the job.”
“Yeah. Your job, and you’re trying to find out why I’m dead, and who killed me. I wish I could tell you, but this is just a dream.”
“I know.”
“You got lucky.” The statement held no bitterness, just flat truth. “I sure as hell didn’t. I’m glad you did, since you’re trying to find out why and who. But you got lucky. He wanted you dead, that dirty cop, and if he’d gotten the full dose in you, if you’d been drinking like he figured, you’d be dead.”
“I was getting married the next day. Maybe I didn’t know completely why I was getting married the next day, but I wanted to stay sober.”
“We were supposed to have a few more days before the white dresses. I was a little bit drunk.”
They stood at the doorway of the privacy room now. For a moment Eve saw herself, fighting Casto off. He’d gotten some of the drug into her, and he’d blackened her eye, but she’d taken him down.
