In Death 19 - Visions in Death

judging him, ready with her punishing hand, her slashing belt. Ready to lock him in the dark so he couldn't see. So he wouldn't know.
    He'd take care of that. Oh, yes, he would. He'd fix her little red wagon. He'd show her who was boss. He'd show all of them.
    They'd pay. This mother's son would make them pay, he thought as he stared back at the screen. He'd show them what he could do.
    These three. He moved closer to the screen, gritting his teeth as he looked at Eve, at Peabody, at Nadine. They'd have to be punished. Sometimes you had to deviate from the plan, that's all. So they'd have to be punished. You were punished when you were bad. You were punished when you were good.
    He'd save the top bitch for last, that's what he'd do. He smiled fiercely at Eve.
    It was always smart to save the best for last.
    It was a good meal, with good company. For nearly two hours, murder didn't play in her head. She enjoyed, particularly, watching Roarke relate. The way he slid, so smoothly, between Charles's urbane sophisticate and McNab's street-smart wiseass. How he mixed with the women, flattering without being oily, flirting without being obnoxious.
    Effortlessly. Or it seemed effortless. But wouldn't he have things on his mind, too? The big wheels and complex deals that made up his work and a large part of his life. He would've spent the day buying and selling God knew what, coordinating and supervising projects she couldn't begin to imagine. Taking meetings, making decisions, contemplating the enormous chessboard of his empire.
    Then he could sit, over coffee and dessert, telling a story about some bar fight from his youth to make McNab roll with laughter, or exchanging opinions about great art with Charles.
    On the way home, he reached over, brushed a hand over hers. "That was a very nice evening."
    "It didn't even nearly suck." "High praise indeed." She laughed at herself, stretched out her legs. Somewhere along the line she'd taken his advice. She'd relaxed. And after she'd relaxed, damn if she hadn't enjoyed. "I mean it." "Darling Eve, I know you do." "You're a layered guy, Roarke." "I'm nothing if not." "I don't know why I'm surrounded by smart-asses." "Birds of a feather." "Anyway," she said after a beat. "It was educational to watch you schmooze." "I wasn't schmoozing. Schmoozing is business, or business-related.
    This was personal and friendly conversation." "Ha. The things you learn." She leaned her head back. She was tired, but she realized, she wasn't weighed down by fatigue. "There was a lot of conversation. And it wasn't even boring or irritating." "God." He picked up her hand, pressed it to his lips as he drove through the gates. "I adore you." "Lot of that going around tonight, too." "It was pleasant to spend time with two couples so obviously in love." "Hard to miss it with all the gooey looks and pats and strokes. Sex sizzling in the air and all that. You ever think how it'd be if you switched them around?" "Sizzling looks, gooey sex? I think of little else." She snickered as they got out of the car to walk to the door. "No. The people. You put Peabody with Charles and McNab with Louise. It'd be totally screwed up." "You could put Peabody with Louise." "Sick. You're a sick man." "Just playing the game." He took her hand as they walked upstairs to the bedroom. "You seem to have your second wind, Lieutenant." "I think it's my third, maybe fourth of the day. I actually feel pretty good." She booted the door shut behind her. "In fact, sitting around in all that sizzle's got me hyped. How about some gooey sex?" "Thought you'd never ask." Hooking an arm around his neck, she jumped so he could catch her in his arms. She calculated her weight, his, narrowed her eyes. "How far do you figure you can carry me?" "To the bed would be my first guess." "No, I mean how far do you think you could haul me like this? Especially if I'm . . ." She went limp, dropped her weight, let her arms dangle.
    She felt him shift and adjust, not quite stagger. "Tougher this way, right?" "I still think I can manage the bed, where I certainly hope you plan to revive a bit." "You're in good shape, but I bet you'd feel it if you had to carry me, say, twenty, thirty yards like this." "Since I haven't strangled you, yet, I won't have to." She boosted back up as he climbed the platform with her.
    "Sorry. No murder in the bedroom tonight." She kept her arms locked around his neck when he lowered her to the bed. "You touch me." Obviously amused, he