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Monday, January 31, 2062
Posted by
jlk
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29 October 2012
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Eve hadn’t been a sexual creature before Roarke. She’d found sex an act to obtain release, nothing more, nothing less. She’d felt minimal attachment to any of the men she’d been with, had avoided spending the night or letting a man spend the night after sex. She shook them off as fast as possible, typically. Roarke had broken that pattern like a whirlwind tearing up a paper factory. She didn’t appreciate his long and extensive history, but knew she benefited by it. So she had routinely taken a back seat when it came to taking risks – Roarke was inventive and demanding enough for both of them. Still … she’d felt empowered the times she’d initiated a seduction. If Eve had picked up one of the books that Mavis was sending over daily, started a disc or two handed to her by Dr. Firestone and Louise, or bothered to look at any of the other media being supplied to her by her husband, majordomo, and psychiatrist, she would have realized that pregnancy can effect sexuality. For both sexes. Roarke’s had been obvious. Eve was feeling a more subtle but no less definite change. So when she got off work on time and came home to find herself alone in a mansion with only a fat grey cat for company, she had time to plan.
Roarke had made it clear he found her attractive in her police blues. Given that, she’d taken a little time to shop at the Sky Mall, and had indeed found what she was looking for. A police cap, plain and black with a shiny bill, and low-slung black jeans with silver belt. The final look was sexy, Eve decided, looking in her closet mirrors. She hooked her handcuffs to the jeans and felt she was ready. A few phone calls and favors, and she felt satisfied that Roarke would be surprised enough to play into his part.
Roarke couldn’t believe it. He had more attorneys than the Mayor and he was still given a court summons. Who would possibly expect him to make a court appearance over various and sundry traffic violations. For Christ’s sake, one of them even stemmed from flying the jetcopter to save the bloody Statue of Liberty from being blown up. And … Eve was a goddamn decorated police Lieutenant with the NYPSD. Anything as puissant as a piddly double parking ticket should have been torn up. And how he’d possibly accumulated over a hundred of the damn things in the past two years was beyond him. It had to be some mix up. And to top it off, Caro hadn’t received the summons until after the court date today, and now he had a warrant out for his arrest. A bench warrant, but still a warrant.
Christ, Eve was going to have a fit. He’d be lucky to sleep on the couch in their bedroom. Of course he could make it all disappear, but since Feeney had already heard and given him a call to suggest his lawyers could keep him out of jail overnight with a quick bond hearing, Roarke had no doubt that Eve would find out. Nothing traveled faster than bad news. The only good thing was that the press hadn’t found out yet.
And come to think of it, he’d given a significant amount to the campaign fund for Judge Ratchety. How the hell had that slipped the old bugger’s mind when he was signing off on the warrant? His link buzzed and Roarke took the call from his lead legal attorney, listening as he was assured that the bond hearing had gone smoothly and no one expected him to show for a hearing scheduled next Monday. Snarling, because he knew damn well that his wife would expect him to show up, Roarke cut the man off and drove through the gates of home, nearly taking down a tree he’d had planted too close to the drive. Eve had admired a weeping willow tree a few years back and Roarke had had one planted where she could see it daily. He’d never checked to see that the damn things grew so big. The one they’d seen had been small enough.
The only question now was when to tell Eve. He could hope for amusement, but given her pregnancy and the hormonal changes, he ran a risk of rage or tears. Tears would be the worst, so that was probably what he would get, Roarke thought in resignation. He should have stopped and got her a gift. He could give her any of the jewelry he’d already given her, she wouldn’t know the difference, but Roarke would no more repeat a gift to his wife than he would stab her with a knife. Chocolate! There had to be chocolate bars or wrapped pieces somewhere in the house. Summerset surely kept some in different Autochefs and hidden in the kitchen for when Eve had a craving. With that thought Roarke parked his car in the garage and headed straight for the kitchen, a man on a mission.
He was in the kitchen reading through the Autochef’s menu when his link rang again. Peabody. Since Eve was in the house, probably upstairs napping in bed, he didn’t have that automatic burst of fear when her partner’s name came on his screen. “Hello, Peabody.” He smiled at her. Unlike Eve who had had her hair returned to its natural color and cut on Sunday, Delia still sported her long black hair and cat-green eyes. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Thanks. It’s a fun look. Listen, Roarke, there’s a problem.”
“All right.” Roarke waited. It could be a thousand things, so he didn’t bother to speculate.
“Look, there’s a warrant out for your arrest” Peabody began.
“I’ve had it taken care of, Delia. Don’t worry.” He’d better tell Eve before some do-gooder called her.
“I don’t think it got taken care of, Roarke. I just got the papers a minute ago.” Peabody shuffled some papers, checked her computer, looking worried. “No. You’re to be brought in for charges and holding. Did you tell Dallas yet?”
“No, I’ve not told her. I just got off the phone with my attorney. He had the bond hearing and I have a court appointment next Monday.” Roarke could feel a headache coming on.
“Roarke, I have a direct connection to the Bond Hearing Office computer and it doesn’t show anything about you or someone representing you. Look, let me call Dallas and she can get it straightened out.” Peabody’s brown eyes shown sincerely.
Roarke swore. Since they hadn’t told Peabody about the pregnancy yet he could hardly expect her to understand that Eve didn’t need this stress. “I’ll take care of it, Delia.”
“Roarke, I don’t think you understand. Someone will tag her and you're expected to be arrested by the first officer who sees you. That would be Dallas.” She was beginning to sound alarmed.
“Fuck it! I’ll go tell her right now.” Roarke ended the transmission. To hell with the chocolate. He’d just have to handle this without a gift. If she cried he’d deal with it. It was a few damn tickets. Not like he’d gone out and robbed a 24/7 corner market. He jogged up out of the kitchen and took the stairs up to their room. Still, he felt in his back pocket for the slender folder that housed various tools including a key for handcuffs. With the way his day was going Trueheart would show up any minute to slap cuffs on him, all the while goggling Eve like she was a piece of candy, Roarke thought nastily. He needed to hire a couple of LCs to keep the boy occupied until the puppy dog crush ended. In fact, he’d just make those arrangements tomorrow …
There room was dark and he called for lights at ten percent quietly as he closed the door. Then felt his heart leap as he was slammed face first against the wall and handcuffed with amazing speed and agility. Only the smell of familiar perfume and the scent that was uniquely his wife kept Roarke from taking aggressive action against his attacker. Instead, he turned his head to look at her. And swallowed.
“You have the right to remain silent …”
