The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [557]
A bit over the top, he supposed, but why the hell not?
“Roarke.”
“Hmm.” He acknowledged Summerset as he completed his selections, set the programming.
“Magdelana is at the gate.”
“She’s what?”
“At the gate,” Summerset repeated. “Asking to come in, a bit tearfully. She claims she must speak with you, even for just a moment. Should I tell her you’re unavailable?”
That would be the easy way, Roarke supposed, and damned if he wasn’t tempted to take it easy. But if he didn’t deal with this now, he’d just have to deal with it later. And he could admit to a certain curiosity. Just how would Maggie explain herself this time?
“No, let her in. Show her into the parlor. I’ll deal with her.”
“The lieutenant should, I believe, be home within the hour.”
“Yes, so make it quick. Let’s move this business along and be done with it.”
Troublemaker, Roarke thought as Summerset went to give Magdelana access. He’d always known she was one, and had, in fact, found that attractive. But he hadn’t seen, not clearly, just how deep the penchant for stirring up the pot went in her.
He knew how to handle troublemakers. Once he had, she’d go off, understanding him perfectly. And that would most definitely be that.
He took his time going down. Do her good to cool her heels, he thought. And Summerset would make certain she didn’t palm any of the silver.
As he expected, Summerset remained in the parlor, and had given Magdelana, who looked pale and delicate in ivory satin, a glass of wine.
She stood by the fire, at the optimum distance, the perfect angle for the flames to sprinkle light over her skin, to glow light through the satin.
Setting the stage had always been a skill of hers. Only this time he’d been the mark. And as far as she was concerned, he still was.
“Roarke.” She lowered her head, as if in shame. But not before the thinnest sheen of tears sparkled over her eyes. “Oh, Roarke, can you ever forgive me?”
“You’ll excuse me?” he said to Summerset.
As Summerset left the room, she set down the wine with the slightest tremor in her hand. “I feel absolutely dreadful about this. I just…Roarke, I’ve been out of town for the last two days, only just got back. But I heard—and saw. I tried to contact you before I left, as soon as I…But—”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Avoiding me,” she said with those tears in her voice. “I wasn’t sure you’d see me at all. Damn paparazzi. They should all be hanged.”
“Even they have to make a living.”
“But to imply something so completely innocent was…was something illicit. We should sue them. But, of course, that only makes it worse. I know, I know.” She lifted a hand, waved it distractedly. “I can’t imagine how upset you are. And your wife. Is she very angry?”
He angled his head. “What do you suppose?”
“In her place, I’d be furious! They made it look as if we were…We were only saying good-bye. You and I know, Roarke, we were only saying good-bye.”
“We do yes, and we were.”
“Perhaps if I tried to explain to her. Is she here? I could try—”
“You’d already know she isn’t here.”
Magdelana closed her swimming eyes. Regroup, he thought. Reconfigure.
“All right, yes. I admit it. I wanted to speak to you alone first, so I called downtown. They said she was in the field, so I came right over. God, I’m such a coward.” She touched her fingers to her lips. “But if it would help, even a little, I’d try to explain to her.”
“I think not. She’s perfectly aware of the circumstances.”
“Oh. Good. Good. What a relief.”
“Perfectly aware that you set it up, that you staged it, and paid the camera to get the vid out.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. That’s…Roarke.” She said his name with a soupçon of injured feeling, just the right addition to shock. “How could you possibly think I’d do something like that? I understand you’re angry and upset—so am I—but to accuse me of deliberately trying to hurt you and your wife. For what purpose?”
It was hardly a wonder they’d done so well, professionally speaking,