In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

light candles, put on music, give you more laced wine. He'd sprinkle pink rose petals on the bed."
    "Bullshit." But she'd gone white. "That's bullshit."
    "You wouldn't think of it as rape while it happened. You'd do everything he told you to do. When he gave you the second drug, you'd lap it right up for him. While your system overloaded, your heart would give out; you wouldn't even know you're dead."
    "You want to scare me?" Stefanie got to her feet, paced. "You're doing a damn good job."
    "That's right. I want to scare you. That's what he plans, that's what might have happened tomorrow afternoon. But it's not going to happen because you're going to do exactly what I tell you."
    Stefanie lowered into a chair again. "He doesn't know where I live. Tell me he doesn't know where I live."
    "He probably does. He's spent some time watching you. Get any flowers lately?"
    "Oh Jesus. Pink roses. The son of a bitch sent me pink roses yesterday. In my quarters in London. I hauled them home with me. They're in the bedroom."
    "Would you like me to dispose of them for you, Pilot Finch?" Peabody asked.
    "Dump them in the recycler?" Stefanie rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm shaking. I piloted that death trap across the Atlantic, and I'm sitting here shaking. I was feeling pretty pumped about meeting him. Imagined I'd start this really nice, satisfying relationship. The bastard ex is looking better all the time."
    "You're not going to speak or contact anyone about this. As far as Wordsworth is concerned, you're meeting him tomorrow. Were there any plans to confirm the date?"
    "Only to cancel. I was to let him know by noon if I had to cancel."
    "Stand up a minute."
    When Stefanie obeyed, Eve rose as well, circled her, judged build, height. "Yeah, two can play the disguise game. When we're done here, you can play it two ways. You can pack what you need and I'll arrange to have you put in a safe house tonight. Or if you want to stay here, I'll have a couple of cops stay over with you. Either way, you'll sleep better."
    "Oh yeah, I'll sleep like a baby tonight."
    Eve wasn't the only one putting in overtime. McNab was on a mission of his own. He'd fueled himself up for it with two bottles of home brew, which were currently burning at his stomach lining. He wasn't drunk. He'd stopped short of getting drunk. Because he wanted to be clearheaded when he kicked Charles Monroe's pansy ass.
    Unaware he'd become the target of a jealous and slightly queasy e-detective, Charles nibbled on Louise's fingers. They were sharing a late supper in his apartment.
    "I appreciate you agreeing to start the evening so late."
    "We both have odd schedules. It's wonderful wine." She sipped. "Wonderful food. And I like your home very much. More than a restaurant."
    "I wanted you to myself. I've wanted you to myself all day."
    "I told you I haven't had much luck with relationships, Charles." She rose to wander to the windows. "I'm single-minded, driven, and haven't given any relationship I've been in the attention it needs. Deserves."
    "I think your luck's about to change." He turned her to face him. "I know mine has. Louise." He lowered his head, skimmed his lips lightly over hers, once, then twice, drawing her in. He circled her into a dance, deepening the kiss when her arms came around him. Bringing her closer when she trembled.
    "Come to bed with me," he whispered. "Let me touch you."
    Her head fell back as his mouth trailed along her throat. "Wait. Just... wait. Charles." She eased back. "I've thought about this. I spent entirely too much time thinking about this today, and last night. Since I first saw you. Part of my problem is over-thinking things."
    She stepped away, needing a little distance. "There's such a pull. I haven't felt a pull like this... ever," she managed. "But I'm not going to bed with you. I can't."
    He kept his eyes on hers, nodded slowly. "I understand. It's difficult for you to accept the idea of being intimate with me."
    "Difficult," she said with a half laugh. "No, I wouldn't say difficult."
    "You don't need to explain. I know what I am."
    She shook her head. "What you are?"
    "Licensed companions don't generally have a lot of luck with personal relationships either. Not real ones in any case."
    "I'm sorry." She held up a hand. "You think I won't have sex with you because you're a professional? Charles, that insults both of us."
    He walked back to the table, picked up his wineglass. "I'm confused."
    "I don't want to sleep with you