Devil s Due Page 0,87

the intercom calling for attention. Two, Ben McCarthy had rolled out of bed on the opposite side, and he had a gun in his hand as well.

They shared rueful smiles, and she kept the weapon in her hand on the way to the keypad, to press the call button. "Yes?"

"Sorry to buzz you so early, Ms. Garza, but there was a special delivery for you. The guy said to tell you that it's a package from back East. That make any sense? I can't read the label."

"No, that's fine, I'm expecting it. I'll be down in a minute, thanks." She turned back to find McCarthy pulling on his briefs, then his jeans. She walked to him without hesitation and stepped into the circle of his arms, her bare skin pressed against his from the waist up. The luxury of it nearly overwhelmed her. His left hand moved lightly up the curve of her arm, and in the morning light she saw a fine lacework of lines around his eyes when he smiled at her. They deepened when she stroked her fingers through the warm mat of hair on his chest.

"No regrets?" he asked her.

"Why in God's name would I have regrets?"

He traced the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. "I'm old, you know."

"Older," she acknowledged. "Didn't slow you down."

"Oh, it did," he said, and dropped a slow, warm Mss on the skin of her collarbone. "But that has compensations. Lets me concentrate on getting the most out of every... single...moment."

"I noticed." When had her voice taken on that particular low purr? You can't be distracted like this, some cold part of her brain said. You're drunk on him, Sober up. There are things to do.

She couldn't stop touching him.

His lips moved across her throat, up to the column of her neck.

"I have to...get...the package," she murmured.

"Yes, you do."

"Things to do."

"Important things."

Her fingers curled in the waistband of his pants.

"I just got those on," he murmured against her skin. His hands were wandering, too, down her back, down the smooth curve of her hips. Inward.

"Stop." She tugged at his pants, pulling him harder against her when he tried to move back for better access. "I have to go downstairs."

"Like that? They'll be thrilled."

"Dressed. I have to get dressed." She finally found some strength to put behind that statement. "Ben, no. I have to do this."

He stopped playing, and the smile slowly died. "Do you?" He searched her face intently. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure that I can't live like this. And neither can you, or Jazz, or for that matter, Simms and Borden. If Simms is right, I could be the only one left standing if I don't act. So yes. I'm sure." She read the fear in him. "I'll be all right."

"Simms sold out about twenty of his friends, so far as I could tell. Forgive me for not trusting him with your life."

She stopped him with a kiss, a long one. "I have to go."

She dressed quickly, just underwear, jeans and T-shirt, feet in a pair of flat shoes. Her hair still looked loose and tumbled, and she could smell McCarthy all over her skin.

She reset the alarm on the way out - native paranoia - and took the stairs to stretch the soreness out of her leg muscles. Marsh glanced up as she came out the fire door, took in the way she looked, and wisely said nothing beyond a polite, "Good morning, Ms. Garza." She signed the clipboard and picked up the package. It was, as Gregory had predicted, heavy; not something one could slip easily into a purse. She'd need a duffel bag, or a backpack.

She was thinking about it on the way back up the stairs, but the extra weight in her arms made her slower. She stopped to readjust the weight on the third floor landing, and as she did, she heard the ground floor door open, and hard-soled shoes coming up. Men's shoes, from the sound of it. Two or three pairs of them.

" - both there. Be ready. She's a tough little bitch, and McCarthy's a stone-cold killer. He'll fight to protect her. I don't want any shooting if we can help it."

"If it comes to that - "

"If it comes to that, kill McCarthy, but don't kill her. We need her. Understand?"

Voices carried. Lucia ran almost soundlessly up another flight, eased open the fire door and sprinted for the elevator. There was an intercom button next to the Up