Read Online Innocent in Death by J. D. Robb - Free Book Online Page A

Especially if you’re not around to see it do its work. Not discounting rage,” she added. “I just can’t find any. Everybody liked him.”
    “That’s what they said about the Icoves,” he reminded her.
    She shook her head. “This guy’s nothing like them. The Icoves were lofty, smug, crazy, sure, but rich and privileged and in the spotlight. This guy was happy in the wings. Going to take a look at his apartment tomorrow,” she said. “Go through his files at school. Maybe he wasn’t the one with a secret. If he knew something, suspected something worth being poisoned for…” She shrugged. “I’ll find it.”
    “No doubt.” Roarke stepped over, touched his lips to her brow. “And you can start the hunt in the morning. You’ve had a long day of cop work and wifely duties.”
    “Guess I have.” She let him take her hand to lead her out. “The Derricks were okay. But I still don’t want to go to Montana.”
    “That’s your cow fear talking. We could go out for a couple of days and stay at the resort. Maybe do a little horseback riding.”
    “Oh, there’s a lifelong dream. Getting up on some animal that weighs ten times what I do and saying, ‘Giddyup.’”
    “It’s surprisingly exhilarating.”
    “I’ll stick with chasing down psychopaths for my thrills, thanks.”
    She wondered if he’d gone horseback riding with Magdelana. She wondered how many time she’d ridden Magdelana.
    Goddamn it.
    She turned in the bedroom doorway, pushed him back against the jamb and pressed her lips to his in an avid, energetic kiss. “Or that’s good,” she said, and took a quick bite of his lower lip, “as second place on the thrill-o-meter.”
    “Second place, is it?”
    “Well, psychos are pretty damn thrilling.”
    “I’ll just have to try harder, won’t I?” He reversed their positions quickly, had his mouth on hers, his hands under her sweatshirt. “Wouldn’t want my wife seeking out homicidal maniacs just for a bit of a rush, would I?”
    “All in a day’s work. But…” She boosted herself up, wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’ve clocked 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.”
    “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