“Your restraint is heroic.”
“See?” She turned toward her office. He steered her toward the bedroom. “What?”
&nb
sp; “Cozy night suggests we get out of work clothes.”
She was a suspicious woman by both nature and training. “Is that just some sly way of getting me naked?”
“It could be, but I was of the mind to enjoy some wine and that cocido in something besides a suit.”
“I figured you liked suits, since you own five or six thousand of them.”
“Like or not, it’ll be pleasant to enjoy wine and stew and a fire on a winter’s night with my wife in something less businesslike.”
She felt a little tug of guilt. “We don’t have to eat in my office.”
“We don’t, no.” As they moved into the bedroom, he unknotted his tie. “But we have a lovely setup there now, don’t we? It works quite well all around.”
Because he’d pushed for it, she remembered. She tugged off his tie herself, tossed it aside before cupping his face for a kiss.
His lips curved. “And is this your sly way of getting me naked?”
“It could be.” She brushed a hand through his hair before she stepped back. “Let’s consider it a preview.”
“Then I’ll look forward to the feature.”
She chose cotton pants, warm and soft as a hug, a years-old NYPSD sweatshirt, and house skids. Roarke chose black, managing to look both dangerous and elegant despite the casual wear.
“Let’s have that wine and dinner before you update your board.”
She could give him that, she thought as they walked to her office. But …
“I just want to check on something. It hit me when we were talking about connections. Question for you: You excel at keeping the private private, but how much could either Caro or Summerset dig out if they wanted?”
“I can’t think of anything, offhand, Summerset would need to dig for. And Caro? While I trust her, and rely on her, she wouldn’t be able to get through anything I didn’t want her to get through.”
“Yeah, but that’s you.”
“It’s me you asked,” he said as he walked over to choose a wine.
“Right. I’m thinking more admins and PAs and like that in general. Summerset would throw himself into any breech before he’d let anyone get through.”
“Well now,” Roarke replied, “listen to you.”
“I know where his loyalties are, and they’re unquestionable, unassailable. I’d say the same for Caro. Mira’s admin would block God himself from getting through her door if Mira was in a session. It’s loyalty, and it’s a kind of possessiveness, too. I’ve never had an admin, thank Christ, but I could say when Peabody was my aide, she’d have put up shields.”
“And so?” he prompted as he brought her a glass of wine.
“Annie Knight’s personal assistant, admin, whatever the hell he is. I didn’t like him. He put up blocks, unnecessary ones. He was aggressively territorial. He was obnoxious about keeping us away from her. Even when we made contact with her, he tried to push in.”
“That’s rather the job, darling.”
“Maybe, and maybe that’s a reason I don’t like admins in general. Caro being the exception—and I probably wouldn’t like her if I were a schmoe trying to get a meet with you. But he got seriously pissed, ordered an underling to lie, then went straight to lawyer. Knight herself was already prepared to talk—but didn’t know, as he hadn’t told her, we were coming in. He blocked her, too, as much as he could.”
Roarke reconsidered. “I rarely meet with schmoes. But an important visitor, an official one? Caro wouldn’t block me, or filter it.”
“Exactly. And Caro knows who you do meet with, and that’s a point. Like Missy Lee, Annie Knight probably believes this asshole didn’t know anything about her problem with Mars. But maybe he did. And her partner, who did know, seems like a solid sort, but maybe. I’d lean more to the asshole than the partner.”