Then stood, lean and limber, in the tiniest excuse for a bra and briefs nearly the same color as her skin.
His lips curved. “Yet another reason to be grateful every day.”
She flicked him a look before pulling out a nightshirt. She peeled out of the underwear, then yanked on the nightshirt.
“I have to think.”
“You’ll think in your sleep, no doubt of it. And let me add something to your thinking. I’ll be of help here. I know what it takes to plan a job like this, and there’s no planning such a job without a client at the ready or a way to put the Suite on auction, in the underground with those who’d not only covet it but have the wherewithal to pay what I believe would rise up beyond half a billion USD.”
“Half a fucking billion.”
“The notoriety, Eve. It’s been lost for nearly two decades. More, it’s recognizable. It’s famed. It couldn’t be fenced in ordinary ways. And it would be undeniably stupid to break it up, to pop any of the stones. The value would plummet.”
She followed all that—simple logic. But couldn’t quite just slide over the half a billion.
“He knew it was in there. He knew about the vault and he knew the emeralds were in it. How?”
“That I don’t know. But I’ll be thinking about it myself. And I’ve a few lines I can tug you can’t.”
“Other thieves.”
“And former associates. So to speak.”
He’d already removed his jacket, loosened his tie.
He came to her now, took her hands. “I never put a fistful of jewels, a painting, a piece of art however exquisite over a human life.”
“I know that. I couldn’t be here if I didn’t know that. I need to find someone who did.”
“And I’ll help in any way I can. You need some sleep, and I could do with some. I’ll wake you. Tell me when.”
He would, she thought, whatever time she said.
“Seven-thirty will do it. Enough time to write this up, set up my board, think, then get downtown to the morgue. Saturday morning, traffic shouldn’t suck too hard.”
“Half-seven then.”
She got into bed. The cat stirred himself to belly up, then curl at her back. When Roarke joined her, he drew her close, kissed her brow, her lips.
“They say it takes a thief to catch one.”
“In my world it takes a cop.”
He brushed his lips over hers again. “We’ll blend our worlds on this. We’re good at it.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Even as her mind circled, she dropped into sleep.
The next thing she knew was coffee.
The scent of it, rich and dark, sliding into her senses. And when she blinked open her eyes, there it was, strong and black, the seductive steam rising over a tall white mug.
And there he was, sitting on the side of the bed, holding it out to her.
She pulled herself up to sit, reached for the mug with both hands. The fact he wore jeans and a T-shirt threw her off.
“Where’s your suit?”
“Which one?”
