In Death 24 - Innocent in Death

out.”
    Their mouths met again, hot and seeking. Then she took hers on a crazed journey of his face, his throat. The taste, his taste-it was everything she craved. He was everything.
    She kept her legs locked around him when he lowered her to the bed, wound her arms around his neck. “Tell me you want me.”
    “Always. Endlessly.”
    48
     
    “Show me.”
    Desire. She could feel it in him. In his hands, in the way they moved over her, in what they took, in what they gave. She could taste it on his lips, that heat.
    And still it wasn’t enough. She knew only that she needed more.
    For the first time since they’d come together, she wasn’t sure what that more was. She only knew there was a small, cold place inside her that hadn’t been there before. She needed it warmed, she needed it filled.
    Desperate, she rolled with him, dragging at his sweater, digging her fingers into flesh and muscle. “Touch me,” she demanded. “Touch me. Touch me.”
    Her urgency surprised him. Aroused him. So he feasted on her skin, used his hands to take her over. She moaned his name, a sound of both pleasure and plea. And still she quaked, quivered with needs not yet met.
    “Eve.” He lay a hand on her cheek, wanting to see her eyes, to see into them. “Look at me.”
    She did what he asked, struggling to let herself fall away. Just fall away. “Inside me. I want you inside me.”
    She rose up, not in offer but demand, and guided him to her.
    Linked, as only they could be, she told herself. Their rhythm, their heat, their scent. She watched him watch her until her vision blurred. Until there was only speed and movement, the building-frantic and wild-toward that final, sharp-edged release.
    When she lay curled against him, her skin dewed from passion, there was still that small, cold place inside her where the heat hadn’t quite reached.
    In the morning, he was up and out of bed before she was. But he wasn’t in the sitting area, drinking coffee while he watched the financial reports on screen.
    She readied for the day, keenly missing the routine-the conversation, sharing breakfast.
    Why wasn’t he there, telling her she was wearing the wrong jacket with the wrong pants?
    And the night before? Why hadn’t he pushed himself into her work? Why wasn’t he here, right now, nagging her to eat something?
    She strapped on her weapon harness with an irritated jerk. It was just fine. He was busy, so was she. She didn’t need or want the man in her pocket every hour of the day.
     
    49
    She strode to her office to retrieve files, though she’d already copied them to her unit at Central. She turned casually toward his office door, had taken only one step when she heard his voice.
    “No, I was up. Yes, old habits die hard.”
    On the ’link, Eve realized, and since there was only his voice, he had it on privacy mode.
    “It was, yes, quite a surprise. I would, of course. I’m sure we do. Why don’t we say one o’clock then, at Sisters Three. I think you’ll like it. Shall I send a car for you? No, Maggie, it’s no trouble. I’ll see you then.”
    Maggie, Eve thought as her stomach sank. Not Magdelana, who was glamorous and just a little distant. But Maggie, who was warm and affectionate.
    She stepped into the doorway and saw she’d done the nearly impossible and caught him off guard. Still, she couldn’t read him in that instant when he stared off into some thought or memory that wasn’t hers to share. Then his attention, along with a distracted smile, was on her.
    “There you are.”
    “Yeah, here I am. At your desk early.”
    “I had a ’link conference with London at six our time.” Behind him the laser fax signaled an incoming he ignored. “I was about to head back and talk you into breakfast.”
    “Full of meal plans today. Lunch?”
    “Sorry? Oh, yes. Apparently Magdelana remembered I’m an early riser.” He slipped the date book he had on his desk into his pocket as he got to his feet. “We’ll have lunch.”
    “So I heard. You’re going to want to be careful there, pal.”
    “Of what?”
    “It wouldn’t be the first old friend you’ve had come around hoping you’d dip back into the game for old times’ sake. You might want to remind her you’re sleeping with a cop these days.”
    Irritation, faint as a whisper, passed over his face. “I’ve no intention of dabbling in old habits.”
    “Old habits die hard, didn’t you say?”
    Now a hint of ice came into his eyes, into his voice.