In Death 11 - Judgment in Death

anything." She walked to the door, then turned back, her smile waning a little. "You surprised him, Lieutenant. That's not easy to do."
    "Yeah, well," Eve muttered when Caro quietly closed the door, "you ain't seen nothing yet."
    She was revved, edgy, and didn't have any interest in the damn pastries. But she ate one anyway, decided the sugar rush could only help, and started on another.
    She was licking flakes from her thumb when Roarke walked in. He aimed those eyes at her, closed the door at his back.
    Pissed, she thought. Not just surprised but seriously pissed. Good. When you were dealing with the richest and potentially the most deadly man in the world, you needed every advantage you could get.
    "I'm pressed for time, so let's save some," he began. "If you're here for an apology regarding last night, you won't get it. Now, is there something else you need to discuss with me? I've people waiting for me."
    That's how he worked it, she mused. All those deals, all those wheels. Draw your line in cold, cold sand, then intimidate. He was good at it, but there were any number of cons doing time who could have vouched that Eve Dallas was a bitch in Interview.
    "We'll get to that, but since I'm pressed for time myself, let's start right at the beginning and move along. Going to see Ricker was my job, and I'm not apologizing for that."
    He inclined his head. "That's one each."
    "Okay. I don't know if I'd have told you about it or not. Probably not, if I thought I could skate by it. And I didn't intend to tell you about him sending his hammers after me because I dealt with it."
    He could feel temper fighting to get out of his belly and into his throat but said nothing. He merely walked to the bar and got himself a cup of coffee. "I have no dispute over your job, Lieutenant. But the fact is, Ricker and I were connected. You knew that going in. We discussed it."
    "That's right. That's right exactly. And we discussed the fact that I would set up a meet."
    "You didn't indicate you'd move on that intention immediately, without preparation."
    "I don't have to indicate anything when it comes to my work. I just have to do the job. And I was prepared. I knew after five minutes with him that his fondest wish was to get to you. Using me to do that wasn't going to be an option I tossed in his lap."
    He studied the pretty pattern on his china cup, even as he fantasized about hurling it against the wall. "I'm quite able to take care of myself."
    "Yeah, well, me, too. So what? Did you tell me about your plans to corner the market on broccoli?"
    He shot her a look of mild interest. "Excuse me?"
    Oh, she hated when he used that formal, adult-to-idiot-child tone on her. And he knew it. "This deal with the Green Space people. Did you bring me in on it?"
    "Why would I? Have you developed a stirring interest in fresh produce?"
    "It's a big deal, taking them over. It's what you do. You didn't consult me about it. I don't have to consult you about what I do."
    "It's an entirely different matter."
    "I don't see it that way."
    "The representatives of Green Space aren't likely to put out a contract on my life."
    "The way you work, they may want to. But yeah, that's a point. On the other hand, dealing with the criminal element is part of the package with me. You married a cop. Live with it."
    "I do. This is different. It's my head he wants. Taking yours would simply be a bonus."
    "Oh, I got that. I got that as soon as I saw the flowers. Why do you think I panicked?" She strode over, slapped her hands on the bar. "Okay, I panicked, and I don't like knowing it. When I read the card, I was annoyed. And then, it hit me, hit hard what you might do. What he was hoping you'd do, and all I could think was to get rid of them. To make them go away so you wouldn't see them or know about them. Maybe I wasn't thinking at all but just reacting. I was afraid for you. Why isn't that allowed?"
    He had no answer for that and, setting the coffee aside, struggled to put his own thoughts in order. "You lied to me."
    "I know it, and I said I was sorry. But I'd do it again. I wouldn't be able to stop myself. I don't care if it put your dick in a twist."
    He stared at her now, torn between annoyance and amusement. "Do you really think this is about my ego?"
    "You're a man, aren't you? I have it on good authority that what I did put a big dent in your ego, which is the same as a kick in the groin to a man."
    "And who," he said with deceptive sweetness, "is this