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“Roarke. Lieutenant, you look amazing. The sexy soldier.” He slid a proprietary arm around Louise’s waist. “If I’m ever called to war, I’d want you leading my troops. We were afraid you wouldn’t make it tonight. Delia’s told me how jammed up you’ve been with this hunt for Julianna Dunne.”

It was a constant puzzle to Eve. Here was a man, a professional companion, with his arm around the elegant blonde he was obviously gone over, talking about the brunette he’d dated for months, and nobody looked weird about it.

Add that the brunette he’d dated, and the guy she was currently banging like a hammer on a nail, were both hearing every word through Eve’s mike, and you had something very strange on your hands.

Relationships were confusing enough, she thought. Mix in police work and it arcs clean out of orbit.

“I make time to pay my debts,” Eve said with a glance at Louise.

Louise laughed. “I think the million-dollar contribution already wiped that slate clean.”

“That’s his deal,” Eve returned with a jerk of her head toward Roarke. “Anyway, it’s a nice do as these dos go.”

“Stupendous praise from you, so thanks. We’re going to keep the boring speeches over dinner to a minimum, then liven it up again with dancing. But before we herd this mob to the tables, I need to steal your husband.”

Eve inched just a little closer to Roarke. “I’d as soon keep him. I’ve gotten used to him.”

“I’ll return him, with hardly any wear. The mayor asked specifically to have a word with you,” Louise said to Roarke. “I promised I’d deliver.”

“Of course.” Roarke set his untouched drink aside, skimmed a hand down Eve’s back. “Politics must be played.”

“You’re telling me. Charles, you’ll entertain Dallas for a few minutes, won’t you?”

Eve had to fight the instinct to snatch Roarke’s arm and yank him back. He could handle himself—nobody better. But he’d been no more than a foot from her side since they’d walked into the Regency. She’d wanted to keep it that way.

She watched his back as he moved across the ballroom with Louise.

“I have a message for you, Dallas.”

“Huh? What message?”

“From Maria Sanchez. I’m to tell you you’re solid, and for a cop, you’re a pretty decent bitch.” He sipped his champagne. “I assume those are compliments.”

“More to you than me, I’d say. Odds are you gave her the best conjugal she’s had since they locked her cage, and the best she’ll have until it opens again.”

“Let’s just say that if it should ever be necessary, I’m sure I could use her as a reference. Actually, she was an interesting woman with a very simple outlook on life.”

“Which is?”

“The fuckers are all out to get you, so you’d better get them first.”

“Somebody ought to sew that on a pillow.” When she lost sight of Roarke, her stomach clutched. “Ah, I can’t quite see Louise. What was that color she was wearing?”

“I got him, Dallas,” Feeney said in her ear. “He’s covered on the cam, and Carmichael and Rusk moved in.”

“Silver,” Charles said with no little surprise. He’d never heard Eve express any interest in clothes. “She looks like she’s wearing moonbeams.”

“Got it bad, don’t you, Charles?”

“A terminal case. I’ve never been happier in my life. Do you know what it is to find someone who accepts you for what you are, and is willing to love you anyway?”

She searched the crowd for Roarke, settled just a little when she found him. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“It makes you a better person. It makes you . . . whole. And that’s enough philosophizing for one night.” He shifted, blocking her view of Roarke for a moment. “Those earrings are absolutely fabulous.” He reached out to touch one, and had her earpiece registering the click of finger on metal like a dull gong. “Antique?”

“Yeah.” She re-angled her body, tried to zero in on Roarke again. “They belonged to a solider.”

“They’re perfect for you. Anything wrong?” He touched her cheek now, drew her attention back to his. “You seem a little on edge.”

“Gigs like this make me itchy. People are starting to drift toward the tables. We’d better snag our dates.”

“We’re sitting together. We’ll catch up with them