Promises in Death (IN DEATH #28) by J.D. Robb EPUB & PDF– eBook Details Online
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- Authors: J.D. Robb
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
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- Size: 2 MB
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EVE STEPPED OUT OF THE SHOWER AND INTO the drying tube.
While the warm air swirled around her, she shut her eyes and wallowed.
She’d snagged a solid eight hours’ sleep and had woken early enough to
indulge in what she thought of as water therapy.
Thirty laps in the pool, a spin in the whirlpool, followed by a twentyminute hot shower. It made a hell of a nice way to start the day.
She’d had a productive one the day before, closing a case within two
hours. If a guy was going to kill his best friend and try to pass it off as a
mugging, he really shouldn’t get caught wearing the dead friend’s inscribed
wrist unit.
She’d testified in court on a previous case, and the defense counsel’s
posturing, posing, and pontificating hadn’t so much as cracked a hairline in
her testimony.
Topping off the day, she’d had dinner at home with her husband, watched
a vid. And had some very excellent sex before shutting down for that eight
straight.
Life, at the moment, absolutely did not suck.
All but humming, she grabbed the robe on the back of the door—then
paused, frowned, and studied it. It was short and silky and the color of black
cherries.
She was dead certain she’d never seen it before.
With a shrug, she put it on, and walked into the bedroom.
There were ways for a good morning to get better, she thought, and here
was top of the list. Roarke sipping coffee in the sitting area while he
scanned the morning stock reports on-screen.
There were those hands that had worked their magic the night before, one
holding a coffee mug, the other absently stroking their fat slug of a cat.
Galahad’s dual-colored eyes were slits of ecstasy—she could relate.
That beautifully sculpted mouth had turned her system inside out, twisted
it into knots of screaming pleasure, then left it limp and satisfied.
Just shy of two years of marriage now, she mused, and the heat between
them showed no signs of banking down. As if to prove it, her heart gave a
leap and tumble in her chest when he turned his head, and his bold blue
eyes met hers.
Did he feel that? she wondered. Could he possibly feel that every time?
All the time?
He smiled, so both knowledge and pleasure spread over a face, she
thought foolishly, must make the gods weep with joy over their work.
He rose, moved to her—all long and lean—to take her face in his hands.
Just a flutter of those clever fingers over her skin before his mouth found
hers and made a better morning brilliant.
“Coffee?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thanks.” She was a veteran cop, a homicide boss, a tough bitch
by her own definition. And her knees were jelly. “I think we should take a
few days.” He programmed the AutoChef for coffee and—if she knew her
man—for the breakfast he intended her to eat. “I mean maybe in July. Like
for our anniversary. If you can work it in between world domination and
planetary acquisitions.”
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