The In Death Collection Books 26-29 - J.D. Robb [83]
“Offer…” Her eyes widened. “This? This house?”
“It’s closer to your clinic than either of our apartments. It’s a nice neighborhood, and it’s…it’s a home, Louise. Not a place to sleep or hang clothes. It’s a place to live, together, to build something together.”
“I need a second.” She put a hand on his chest, eased him back. “You did all this, changed your life, for me?”
“For us. I hope. If you don’t like the house, we’ll find another. Mira said it would probably be better to wait on the house, to consult you there. But…I didn’t.” At a loss, he lifted his hands, let them fall. “It was probably a mistake to buy it without you. But I wanted to give you something. Something solid, I guess, symbolic, and a little spectacular.”
“I thought you were tired of me, that you didn’t love me anymore and didn’t know how to tell me.” She managed a watery laugh. “You’ve been breaking my heart, Charles, for weeks.”
“Louise.” He drew her to him, kissed her damp cheeks, her lips. “It must be loving you so much, and being terrified you wouldn’t want all this, that’s had me screw up so badly.”
“I was going to be so sophisticated and cool when you broke things off. Then I was going to gather up any of your things at my apartment and set them on fire. I’d worked it out.”
“I was prepared to beg.”
She tipped her head back, laid her hands on his cheeks, and smiled beautifully. “I love you, Charles. You didn’t have to do this for me, or for us, but I love that you did. I love that you screwed it up. Oh! Show me the rest!” She spun away and into a circle. “Show me every inch so I can start planning how to drive you crazy with decorating ideas. I’ll nag you so relentlessly over window treatments and wall colors you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to cohab.”
“Cohab?” He shook his head. “For two smart people who’re desperately in love, we’re certainly having a hard time understanding each other.” He slipped a small velvet box out of his pocket, flipped the top. The diamond exploded with light and brilliance. “Marry me.”
“Oh.” She stared at the ring, stared into his eyes. “Oh my God.”
14
WITH THE BURGER DEVOURED, EVE PACED IN front of her wall screens. “What we have to do is divide these into categories, cross-reference. First, the people we know she had multiple contacts with. The more contact, the easier it is to establish a relationship. We put those into categories. Staff, volunteers, beneficiaries.”
“She may have met any number of these people off book,” Roarke pointed out. “Private meetings. The nature of that would make the relationship more personal, more intimate.”
“Yeah, can’t argue. So we divide those up, too. Peabody’s got a good start with the multiples, and with those we have individuals with criminals, and we have the LC angle. We need to press that.”
She turned back to him. “If you were going to have someone killed—”
“Some chores a man just wants to see to himself.”
She blew out a breath, scratched the back of her neck while he smiled serenely. “If,” she repeated. “And if you didn’t want to get your manicured hands dirty, would you exploit someone with some experience in criminal behavior, someone whose past deed or deeds could also give you a lever, if necessary, or would you go with the blank slate?”
“Interesting, as both have their advantages, and their pitfalls. And it would depend, too, on what the criminal behavior consisted of.”
“Yeah, we’re going to do a subset there on violent knocks.”
“Someone who’s killed before—or has a history of violence—would bring that experience or predilection to the table.” He continued to enjoy a glass of the cabernet he’d selected to go with the burgers. “Might be, one could assume, more open to bribe, pressure, or reward. However, that sort may not be as trustworthy or discreet as the clean slate. Whereas, the clean slate