Page 113 of Bonded in Death

“It’s a bit cooler today, and rainy. Go for the leather jacket. You have a black one that’s very thin and flexible leather.”

“How am I supposed to know which one that is?”

He held up a hand, then wary of the cat, took the plates to stow inside the AutoChef cabinet. Shut the door.

He went into her closet and directly to a black jacket.

“This one.”

Simple, she noted, no fuss. Good pockets. And she did have a weakness for leather. “What’s the symbol on the buttons. Flowers?”

“Four-leaf clovers. For luck. You might want those lug-soled boots. Good traction if you have to run down your bad guy.”

“He’s pushing eighty. I think I can take him.”

But she went for the boots, and a black shirt, black trousers.

“Not those, darling.” He took the trousers, exchanged them for another pair. “Those were indigo. You’ll want true black.”

“Black should just be black.”

They both heard the crash from the bedroom.

“Bugger it.”

When they pushed out, the cat stretched up inside the open cabinet, happily licking syrup off a plate.

The dome sat on the floor where it had fallen.

“He opened it,” Eve said. “He opened the damn door.”

“I’m impressed. I’m bloody well impressed. And yet.”

Roarke strode over, plucked up the cat. “I’ll put a lock on it if needs must,” he told the cat, and set him down.

Unconcerned, Galahad licked syrup off his paws. His bicolored eyes zeroed in on Eve’s, and were full of delight.

Amused, she dressed.

“I expect to be on scene by twelve-fifteen,” she told Roarke. “If you want to go in with us, be at Central by noon. Otherwise, I’ll give you a location.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“If he contacts Iris again… she knows how to play it. But I want to know about it.”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

As she loaded her pockets, he walked to her. “Take very good care of my cop today.”

“You’ll be there for part of it, so take care of my gazillionaire, expert consultant, bomb deactivator.”

“Then we have a deal.” He kissed her. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

She glanced at the cat as she started out. “He’s thinking about doing it again.”

“Are you now, mate?” she heard Roarke say. “Are you really?”

She was barely through the gates when Whitney tagged her.

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