In Death 24 - Innocent in Death

thick and Irish. Felt him quiver as he held himself back.
    And that she wouldn’t allow. “You’ll give me all of you,” she said. “All.”
    She shattered his will, undid his control, her hands and lips taking him as he’d taken her.
    Beyond what was reason. Near to delirium, he dragged her mouth back to his, and devoured.
    Lips and teeth and tongues, fingers that demanded and took, bruises be damned. Her breath was burning even as she took from him, gave to him. His blood burned under his own skin.
    “Now, now, now.” She chanted it, arching up.
    When he drove into her, she cried out again, the sound close to a scream. And still her hips pumped fast and strong, whipping him into the glorious dark.
    Her hands lost their grip on his hips, slid away to thump against the floor. Inside her body, everything had been pummeled, twisted, wrung out, then smoothed soft again. Her toes wanted to curl in pleasure, but there wasn’t enough energy left for the movement.
    “Jesus,” she managed. “Holy dancing Jesus.”
    “When I can actually stand up again, some time in the distant future, I’m going to let you punch me in the face again, so we can see if all that finishes up the same way as this.”
    “Okay.”
    “Or maybe we’ll try that romantic dinner. Then you can punch me.” He actually felt her wince. “Problem?” He lifted his head, saw by her face there was. “What?”
    “I’m really sorry.”
    “I think, considering our current positions, and state of being, apologies are unnecessary.”
    But he read the look. “Not sorry for the punch, I see. It’s work?”
    “I didn’t contact you to tell you to hold dinner, because I wanted to tell you face-to-face.
    Which we now are, in addition to other body parts. It’s a lot to explain, but I will. I’ve got something I need to deal with, and I could use your help with it.”
    “All right.”
    300
     
    “Maybe we could fit in the candlelight and so on before midnight, but-”
    “It doesn’t matter, Eve. I promise you.”
    Yeah, we got lucky, she thought. God, didn’t they just. “I got you a present.”
    “Did you?”
    “It’s a book of poetry-romancy stuff. I thought, ‘How schmaltzy is that,’ so it seemed like the thing. Then I screwed up and left it in my desk at work.”
    He smiled, leaned down to kiss her softly. “Thank you.”
    She touched his cheek. “I’ve got to grab a shower and get to this. I planned to dig straight in, so we could maybe have a really late dinner, but then I had to punch you and your blonde tart, and one thing led to another.”
    “Of course. Well, we’ll have a shower and you can fill me in.”
    He listened, saying little as she ran it through for him. “So,” he said, as she pulled on loose flannel pants and a sweatshirt. “You were right about the girl.”
    “That’s no girl, but yeah, I was right. The diary’s going to be one of the nails. I could have it cut open-the box, it’s in-”
    “I can promise that’s not necessary.”
    “Let’s take it in my office.” She hauled up a field bag. “I want it all on record. So maybe you could fumble just a little with the lock.”
    “I certainly will not.”
    “Okay, okay.”
    “I’d like to explain what Magdelana was doing here.”
    She slanted him a look. “Other than trying to lock lips with you?”
    “More specifically,” he said carefully as they started out of the bedroom, “why I allowed her in our home.”
    “I already got that. You needed to deal with it, with her. Needed to spell it out for her, give her the get lost, and put some of the fear of Roarke in her.”
     
    301
    “How fortunate I am, under the circumstances, to have a woman who understands me.
    Fear of Roarke?” he repeated.
    “You can do the fear of God thing, but see, you can’t see Him, and most people feel He’s not going to really-what is it-smite them. You, however, are flesh and blood, and would do a lot worse than a smite. You’re a lot scarier than God.”
    “I don’t know quite how to take that,” he said after a moment. “But meanwhile, do you want to know how this was handled?”
    “Yeah, actually, I would.”
    He told her while they made their way to her office, while she set down her bag, took out the diary. While she simply stood, staring at him.
    “See? See? Holy crap. God wouldn’t have made her insides quiver like that, and you can bet your fine Irish ass they quivered like jelly. Can you really ban her from all your stuff?
    That’s like