For a moment she was silent, pressing her lips together. Finally she nodded. “I never really thought about the kinds of things you have to see when you go to work. Or the kinds of people you have to associate with.”
He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck, a little shocked that her distress was more for him than for herself. “I don’ think it’s much different from the people you had to associate with as a child, Bijou.”
“They were self-indulgent and permissive, but they didn’t think it was okay to hurt and rape women and no one murdered anyone,” she protested. “I might have been neglected and embarrassed by the behavior, but I never had to deal with the grisly, horrific things you see.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Blue, I know we have so much to talk about and I keep askin’ you to wait for me, but I need you to understand. I can’t have these men runnin’ loose. Even if they aren’t the ones who killed Pete Morgan and Ryan Cooper, they’re dangerous and I need to get them off the street.”
“Of course. There’s no question of that,” Bijou said, frowning at him.
“The point is, I’ll be workin’ all night and maybe most of tomorrow.”
“I figured that out for myself. Remy, I’m not a baby, and I certainly am not someone who has to be with a man every moment. I know what you do. I didn’t have any idea how awful it was for you, but I got together with you knowing you’re a homicide detective. I’m not about to fall apart because you have to work.”
She was hesitant about it, but she cupped the side of his face with her palm. “I can be afraid for you. That’s somethin’ outside my control, but I’m beginning to realize you’re a dangerous man and maybe you can take care of yourself after all.” She sent him a faint smile.
He bent his head and kissed her, needing the taste of her. Needing to know she wouldn’t pull away. He had never thought he would come to need a woman the way he did Bijou. He often reminded himself she hadn’t been back that long, that he barely knew her, but somehow she found her way inside and was stamped onto his bones. He had wanted to tell himself it was his leopard, but he feared his leopard had little to do with it now.
She leaned into him, her mouth moving under his, her slender arms sliding up to circle his neck. His kiss started out gentle but once her lips moved against his and her mouth opened to him, it was as if molten fire poured from him to her. There was no stopping, no thinking, only his woman’s body moving against his, her warmth seeping into his pores and the taste of her sinking into his bones.
“Are you goin’ to wait for me?” he asked.
“I said I would,” she murmured against his lips.
He kissed her again, that whisper of a caress too much to resist. His tongue tangled and danced with hers. “I don’ want you gettin’ any ideas about that Frenchman,” he added. He kissed her over and over.
“Frenchman?” she asked faintly.
He lifted his head, a faint grin on his face. “That’s my woman. Forget about that filthy rich, suave, very talented artist. What could he possibly have that I don’?”
“I can’t possibly imagine,” she said, smiling back at him.
He noticed she didn’t offer to stay home from the gallery showing if he couldn’t make it back in time or had to work the next night.
16
BIJOU dressed carefully for the gallery showing of Arnaud Lefevre’s work. He was always very elegant in his attire, his suits impressive and his manners impeccable. He moved in a far different world than Remy’s. She’d lived so long like Arnaud that dressing up was second nature to her. Red carpets, cameras and the right clothing were a way of life.
She liked her blue jeans and casual clothes, but there was something amazing about wiggling into a designer gown, one that covered her back and arms to hide all the evidence of her crazy sexual nights with Remy. She styled her hair in an elegant updo and put on her makeup carefully. Strappy heels and swinging sapphire earrings completed the look, making her feel very feminine.