In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

soldiers to do the job. What a pisser."
    "Speaking as a man, I can say that finding oneself unable to create a child would be difficult to accept." He brushed his lips over her hair. "And if a child was desired, I'd do whatever could be done to fix the problem."
    "Fertility tests... they must be really personal, embarrassing. Especially for a guy with a really whopping ego." She glanced over her shoulder.
    "Are you asking my opinion as you assume I have a really whopping ego?"
    "We could fill Madison Square with your ego, pal. It just runs different than this jerk's. Maybe it explains why he shifted gears from private practice into research -- sexual dysfunction and fertility research. Let's take a look at the daughter. Computer, standard background run on Dunwood, Sarah. Nee McNamara."
    Working...
    "To show how good-natured I am," Roarke began, "I'll ignore that insult and tell you I've just finished my assignment. Transmissions are blocked, and will be diverted to an account I've just created for you."
    "I didn't ask you to divert them."
    "Two services for the price of one." He whipped her around and crushed his mouth to hers. His hands gripped her butt, squeezed, and molded her body against his. "There. That ought to cover it."
    "Stop trying to cloud my brain. I'm on the clock."
    Data accessed... Display or audio?
    "Display," Eve said even as Roarke ordered audio.
    Conflicting command. Holding...
    "Cut it out," Eve ordered as he tugged her shirt from her waistband. "What's wrong with you?"
    "Apparently not a thing." But he laughed and let her muscle away. "Display data."
    "She's fifty-three," Eve said. "Followed in Daddy's footsteps right down the line. Same schools, same training, same hospital residency. And straight into research. One marriage. One child. Carbon copy. Except she got the boy. And look at his DOB. Only a year after the start of the project. She'd already been married eight years. Wouldn't surprise me if she not only worked on the project, but was part of the study."
    She blew out a breath. "And what the hell does that have to do with murder? There's a connect. I know there's a connect. Her husband was part of the team, too. But he's too old for these hits. And the son's too young. What is he twenty-one, twenty-two? He was an infant during the heyday of the project. Still... Computer, access all available data, Dunwood, Lucias. Display on wall screen."
    Working...
    While his data was being accessed a few blocks away, Lucias strolled into the formal parlor of his townhouse. His grandfather rarely paid personal calls, and certainly never spur-of-the-moment visits.
    If the king dropped by, there was a reason. Speculating on what it might be had Lucias's palms going damp. He wiped them distractedly on his slacks before he entered the room, smoothed them over his tight red curls, then fixed a pleased and welcoming expression on his face.
    "Grandfather, what a wonderful surprise. I didn't realize you were back."
    "I arrived last night. Where is Kevin?"
    "Oh, at his computers, where else? Shall I arrange for drinks? I have a very nice scotch. I think you'll approve of it."
    "This isn't a social call, Lucias. I want to speak with Kevin as well."
    "Of course." The sweat that had dampened his palms ran in a thin, nasty line down his back. He gestured casually to the waiting server droid. "Tell Mr. Morano my grandfather's here and wishes to see him."
    "Immediately," McNamara added.
    "Of course. And how was your trip?" Lucias went to the antique cabinet that held the liquor. His grandfather might not want a drink, but he needed one.
    "Productive. A word you've become unfamiliar with since you graduated college."
    "With honors," Lucias pointed out and poured scotch neat into heavy crystal. "Just taking a sabbatical after years of study. And actually, I've been doing some work in my lab. A pet project. You know all about pet projects, after all."
    McNamara turned away briefly. The boy was a disappointment to him. A severe disappointment. He had helped create him, hand-picking the man he'd deemed best suited for his daughter. A man much like himself -- intelligent, driven, strong. Ambitious.
    Their inability to conceive a child had been a monumental frustration for him, but had helped him launch the project. The project that had advanced his career, created his grandson. And had very nearly ruined everything.
    Still, he had risen above it. His name had never been marred. And never would be.
    And hadn't he