In Death 06 - Vengeance In Death by J.D. Robb

Author:J.D. Robb [Robb, J.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

It was nearly six feet in length, with ceiling heads angled down to soak or spray. She went for spray, hot, and struggled to ignore the opening behind her as she soaped and rinsed.

Brian had been little help, she mused, though he had promised to put out the word, discreetly, and try to gather any information on the families of the men who'd killed Marlena. A few of them he knew personally and had laughed off the idea of any of them having the skill, the brains, or the nerve to choreograph a series of murders in New York.

Eve preferred to look at police records and solicit the opinion of a professional colleague. All she had to do was nudge Roarke in a different direction so that she would have the morning free to brainstorm with Inspector Farrell.

Confident that would only take a bit of maneuvering, she ordered the spray off, turned to step out of the shower, then yelped as if scalded.

Roarke was standing behind her, leaning back against the wall, hands dipped casually in his pockets.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting you a towel." Smiling, he reached for one on the warming rack. Then held it out of reach. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, well enough."

"I ordered breakfast when I heard the shower running. Full Irish. You'll like it."

She dragged her dripping hair out of her eyes. "Okay. Are you going to give me that towel?"

"I'm thinking about it. What time is your appointment with the guarda?"

She'd started to make a grab for the towel, then pulled back, wary. "Who?"

"The police, darling Eve. The Dublin cops. This morning, I imagine. Early. By, what, nine?"

She shifted, crossed her arms over her breasts, but it didn't help. "I never said I was meeting anyone." When he only lifted a brow, she swore. "Know-it-alls are very irritating to mortals. Give me that damn towel."

"I don't know it all, but I know you. Are you meeting someone in particular?"

"Listen, I can't have this conversation naked."

"I like having conversations when you're naked."

"That's because you're a sick man, Roarke. Give me that towel."

He held it up by two fingers, and his eyes gleamed. "Come and get it."

"You're just going to try to get me back into bed."

Now his smile spread and he moved toward her. "I wasn't thinking of the bed."

"Step back." She held up a hand, feinted to the right. "I'll hurt you."

"God, I love when you threaten me. It excites me."

"I'll give you excitement," she promised. She'd just judged her chances of getting past him and out the door, found them passable, when he tossed the towel in her direction. When she grabbed for it, he caught her around the waist and had her pinned against the wall before she could decide whether to laugh or swear.

"I'm not fighting with you in here." She blew at her wet hair. "Everybody knows the majority of home accidents involving personal injuries happen in the bathroom. It's a death trap."

"We'll have to risk it." Slowly he lifted her hands over her head then scraped his teeth along her throat.

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