"I take Dukes and the mayor tomorrow." She sat on the arm of a chair, but didn't drink the wine. "I split up the interviews after the bust. Gave a push at suspects with various team members and combos. Everybody yelled lawyer, like it was their team cheer. I broke some pathetic housewife in under thirty minutes. Spilled her guts while her lawyer's huffing and puffing about duress. Pleaded her down a couple levels to shut him up, and she rolled over like a puppy."

"You stopped them. You shattered them."

"I took in a judge, two other cops-a retired cop who'd put thirty years in. I took in mothers who were almost as panicked about notifying their child care provider as they were about spending the night in a cage. I took in a boy barely old enough to shave, and a woman who won't see a hundred again. She spit on me." Her voice quavered just a bit on that. "She spit on me when we were putting her in the wagon."

Roarke stroked a hand over her hair, and when she turned her head, cradled her face against his side. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," she murmured. "I just don't know what I'm sorry about. I've got to go to bed." She eased away, stood. "I'll look over the data you and Jamie extracted in the morning."

"I'll be along when I can. I have a meeting shortly."

"A meeting? It's almost three in the morning."

"It's in Tokyo. We'll do a holoconference."

She nodded, then set the untouched wine aside. "Were you supposed to be there? In Tokyo?"

"I can be where I want. And I want to be here."

"I've cut into a lot of your time just lately."

He rubbed a thumb over the shadows under her eyes. "You certainly have, and I expect to be properly recompensed." He touched his lips to her forehead. "Now go to bed. I've work here."

"I could come into midtown sometime, and… consult."

"I'd like to know what I've done to deserve a threat like that."

It helped to smile. "Or, you know, go shopping with you. Help you pick out a suit or something."

"I felt that chill right down to the bone. Go away, Lieutenant."

"Okay. See you later."

"Mmm." And as his holo unit signaled, he watched her go.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

She woke before dawn, and gauged the time by the quality of the dark. She calculated an hour before daybreak, and thought about trying to zone out again for the best part of that.

She'd slept like a woman in a coma, falling facedown on the bed after stripping down to the skin. She hadn't heard Roarke come to bed. But at least she hadn't dreamed.

She shifted to her side and made out the shape of him. It wasn't often she woke before he did. Because of it she rarely had the opportunity to lay in the dark, in the silence of the house and listen to him sleep.

He slept like a cat, she thought. No, quieter than a cat. The light rumble of snoring she heard was from the other side of the bed where Galahad lay sprawled on his back like roadkill.

It was kind of nice, she decided, with everyone all tucked up safe and warm.

Too nice to waste the best part of the hour she had left for bed sleeping.

She crawled on top of Roarke, found his mouth just where she'd left it. And woke him with heat.

She felt his body throw off sleep. A fingersnap. Brace, assess, relax again.

"Work late?" she asked against his mouth.

"Mmm."

"Sleeping in?"

"Not anymore."

She laughed and scraped her teeth over his jaw. "Just lie back. I'll do the work."

"If you insist."

She was warm and naked and still soft from the night. In the dark before light she moved over him like a dream, all scent and touch and shadow. Her lips and fingers stroked over him, stirring needs that were never quite still.

Her hands cupped his face. Her mouth sank to his.

She sighed into him. He heard something wistful in the sound, and as she lay over him, he traced his hands up and down her back, that long, lean line, as much for comfort as seduction.

His cop, he thought. So troubled. So torn. But here, they were safe and sure. Here, they were right.

He knew, she realized, and turned her face into his throat. He always knew. And the gift of having someone who did, who could, was overwhelming.

"I love you. Roarke. I love you." Her mouth met his again, hotter now, with the first taste of urgency. "I love you. For all the times I forget to say it."

The kiss slid back to sweetness. Her heart beat thick, beat steady against his.

In a long, slow movement, he rolled her to her back. He laid his lips on her collarbone as their legs tangled, as hers parted. He could see her now, the shape of her face, the gleam of her eyes. He slid into her, a satin glide of flesh to flesh. A quick and quiet catch of breath.

Again long, again slow, and deep, with her body rising toward his, with his falling toward hers. She shuddered, and groped for his hands. Their fingers linked; their mouths met.

Overhead, dawn broke.

It was still shy of seven when she studied the data Roarke and Jamie had accessed the night before. She frowned over it, chewed over it. Considered.

"Dukes goes down, all the way down. He has to know it. Essentially, he was the button man. Even without a confession, I'm handing the prosecutor a case he'd have to be a baboon to lose."

"Then why do you look annoyed?"

"I just wonder if this guy knows he was the goat. All along. Whatever, whoever goes down, he takes the heaviest fall. He's the name the media will trumpet, the image of the effigies burned once the crowd turns. If he hadn't figured it out, I might be able to use that to convince him to point the finger at anyone I don't have in the box."

"And they will turn," Roarke agree.

"Yeah they will." She frowned. "Politics," she said softly. "Hell of a game."

She glanced over at Roarke. "I'm going to check out a couple things, then head in to start picking him apart. I want a good chunk of time with him before I pass him to Feeney and move onto Peachtree."

"You're doing Peachtree at Central?"

"His house. His involvement remains Code Five until he's formally charged."

"I want to observe the interviews." He looked over from where he sat on the bedroom sofa, monitoring the stock reports on the mini-unit and the morning media report on the wall screen.

"What's the point?"

"The point is closure. I gave way on the bust last night. I want this."

"What's the matter with you, Ace? You're sprung. Job done, game over. You can spike the ball. You can go back to work and buy… Alaska or something."

"I've as much acreage and interest in Alaska as I need for the moment. But if your heart's set on a glacier just send me a memo. You can arrange it, Lieutenant. It's a reasonable enough request."

"For Dukes, yeah, but Peachtree-"

"He's had my support, financially. You're not the only one who's pissed-off by this situation. I want to be there for the end of it."

"Okay. Okay, I'll work it out. But I'm leaving in ten, so you'll have to-"

"Hold on a minute." His gaze narrowed on the wall screen as Nadine Furst came on with a flash bulletin.

"This just in. Forty-three people suspected of being part of the group known as The Purity Seekers were taken into custody last night at the Church of The Savior on Franklin Street. This NYPSD operation was headed by Lieutenant Eve Dallas. Police sources identify some of the suspects arrested as Judge Lincoln, a criminal court judge in this city, Michael and Hester Stanski…"

"Where did she get the names!" Eve exploded and barely resisted punching a fist at the screen. "We're not releasing names yet."

"Listen to the rest," Roarke told her. "This can't be it. There's no point in this kind of leak."