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385 pages, Hardcover
First published February 20, 2007
“No. No, I don't believe you'd betray me with her. I don't believe you'd cheat on me. But I'm afraid, and I'm sick in my heart that you might look at her, then at me. And regret.”
The maître d’ swooped down on her like a vulture on readkill.
“Mademoiselle. I regret, we cannot seat walk-ins.”
“How do you seat anyone if they don’t walk in?”
““She would be a sparkling accent on his arm. She speaks flawless French and Italian, and has a limitless supply of charm when she wishes to dispense it. And she’ll use him. She’ll take, take more. If it was necessary, or if she simply had the whim, she’d toss him to the wolves to see who’d win.”
He finished the whiskey. “You, Lieutenant, are often crude, you are certainly rude, and have very little sense of how to be the wife—in public—of a man in Roarke’s position. And you would do anything, no matter what the personal risk, to keep him from harm. She will never love him. You will never do anything but.”
”She looked at him as she put it on. “He’s okay. We’re okay. She’s not going to be a problem for him anymore.”
“Or for you?”
“Or for me.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
“I know you are. Appreciate it.”
“I’ve brought that unfortunate vehicle you’ve yet to wreck around in anticipation of your departure. I hope you won’t leave it soiling the front of the house much longer.”
“Kiss my ass, scarecrow.”
“There.” He smiled at her. “We’re back to normal.”
”He stretched out on the backseat on the drive, and from the movements Eve caught in the rearview, and Peabody’s muffled giggles, he was snaking his hand between the front seat and the passenger door to tickle his cohab.
“You want to retain use of that hand, Detective, you’ll keep it off my partner until your personal time.”
“Sorry. Your partner shatters the power of my will.”
“Keep it up, and I’ll shatter all your fingers.””
"Fuck me," Roarke muttered. "What bloody bullshit ... Christ Jesus, Eve."
“He lifted his glass, smiled over the rim at Eve. And when someone said his name, and he glanced toward them, Eve saw something come into his eyes, just a flash of it. A something she'd only seen when he looked at her.
It was gone, shuttered down into polite pleasure. But it had been there. Very slowly, Eve tracked her gaze over, and saw her.”
MIRA - "I dislike her intensely."
EVE - "She speaks French and Italian."
MIRA - "That bitch."
"It's very cold, Eve."
He spoke her given name quietly, and nearly shattered her last line of defense
He finished the whiskey. "You, Lieutenant, are often crude, you are certainly rude, and have very little sense of how to be the wife--in public--of a man in Roarke's position. And you would do anything, no matter what the personal risk, to keep him from harm. She will never love him. You will never do anything but."
"Fuck. that! Fuck it, Eve. Am I to be tried and condemned."