“You mean to the bedroom.”
“Yeah. I know my way around what we’ll be doing there.”
The smile flickered in her eyes, around her mouth. “I’d be disappointed if that wasn’t true.”
He kept her hand as they walked back to the living room, up the stairs. “Considering what we’ll be doing, and I hope you don’t question my size and virility for the question, but how does Bert handle the process?”
“He’s very well trained, so theoretically he won’t interfere.”
Brooks glanced back at the dog. “Theoretically’s a tricky word. And byinterfere, do you mean he won’t rip my throat out?”
“He shouldn’t.”
At the door to the bedroom, Brooks turned her around, narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re being funny.”
“Humor can smooth over awkwardness, if there is any. I can’t tell. But if Bert thought you hurt me, or tried to, his first response would be to protect me—to stop you. He’s seen you touch me, and I’ve instructed him you’re a friend, and to stand down. He sees I’ve brought you up here without duress, that I touch you.”
She laid a hand on Brooks’s chest, then glanced at the dog, gave him an order.
“What language was that?” Brooks asked when the dog walked over to a generous dog bed, circled three times and lay down with a windy sigh.
“Farsi.”
“Seriously? You and Bert speak Farsi?”
“Not very well, but I’m working on it. I told him to rest. I don’t want to put him out of the room. He wouldn’t understand.”
“Okay. Is that a stuffed bear in his bed?”
“Dogs are pack animals.”
“Uh-huh, and a stuffed teddy bear is Bert’s pack?”
“It comforts him. I’d like to turn down the bed.”
“I’ll give you a hand.”
“No. I have my—”
“Own way. Fine.” He wandered over, studied the computer station set up very like the one on the first floor.
“It makes you wonder.” She folded the simple duvet onto the padded bench at the foot of the bed. “I’m in the business. I believe strongly in security, and feel a separate obligation to use and test products and systems.”
“I think that’s true. But that’s not all.” He turned around, watched with appreciation when she took a condom from the nightstand drawer and set it on the table by the bed. “And we don’t need to talk about it now. Is it okay if I put my weapon on the desk here?”
“Yes. Should I undress?”
“No. I havemyown way.”
After he took off his gun, set it down, he crossed to her, trailed a hand down her hair, her cheek, her shoulder. “I like finding out for myself what’s under there.”
He kissed her, testing, teasing, his fingers still skimming, over her face, down her side, up her back. Light and easy as he could feel her holding back, holding in.
“You have good hands.”
“I haven’t put them to much use where you’re concerned yet.”
“But you will. I’d like to see,” she said as she began to unbutton his shirt. “You don’t wear a uniform like your deputies.”
