“I never had one.”
Rachel knew it was the lawyer in her, but she couldn’t help moving along the line of questioning. “Does it bother you that he’s a cop?”
“Bother me?” Bess’s brows lifted in surprise. “No. Do you mean, will I worry? I suppose I will. But it’s not something I could change, or that I want to change. I love who he is.”
“He’s making you sad,” Mikhail said quietly.
“No.” Bess’s denial was quick enough to startle the dozing baby. She soothed her automatically as she shook her head. “No, of course he isn’t.”
“I see what’s in your eyes.”
He would, she realized, and felt the warmth creep into her cheeks. “It’s only that I know he doesn’t trust me—my feelings. Or, I suppose, the endurance of my feelings. It’s not his fault.”
“He was always one to pick things apart.” There was brotherly disgust in Mikhail’s voice. “Never one to take anything on faith. I’ll speak to him.”
“Oh, no.” This time, she laughed. “He’d be furious with both of us. All that Slavic pride and male ego.”
Instantly Mikhail’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing.” She grinned at Rachel. “Not a thing. I’ll just wear him down in my own way. In fact, I’m going to start tonight. I’m cooking dinner. I thought maybe I could call your mother, find out if he has a favorite dish.”
“I can tell you that,” Rachel offered. “Anything.”
“Well, that certainly widens my choices. Do you think she’d mind if I called her, asked for some pointers? My kitchen skills are moderate at best.”
“She’d love it.” Rachel smiled to herself, knowing her mother would hang up the phone and immediately start planning the wedding.
It was after midnight when Alex let himself into Bess’s apartment with the key she’d given him. He was punchy with fatigue, and his head was buzzing from too much coffee. Those were usual things, as much a part of his work as filing reports or following a lead. But the sick weight in his stomach was something new.
He would have to tell her.
She’d left the television on. In an old black-and-white movie a woman screamed in abject terror and fled down a moonlit beach. As he shrugged out of his jacket, Alex moved across the room to switch it off. Before he reached the set, he saw her, curled on the couch.
She’d waited for him. The sweetness of that speared through him as he crouched beside her. For so many years now, he’d come home alone, to no one. Gently he brushed the dark red curls from her cheek and replaced them with his lips. She stirred, murmuring. Her eyes fluttered open.
“I’m just going to carry you into bed,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”
“Alexi.” She lifted a hand to rub over the cheek he hadn’t shaved that morning. Her voice was thick with sleep, her eyes glazed with it. “What time is it?”
“It’s late. You should have gone to bed.”
She made a vague sound of disagreement and pushed up on one elbow. “I was waiting up, but the movie was so bad.” Her laugh was groggy, and she rubbed her eyes like a child. “It zapped me.” She circled her shoulders before leaning forward to kiss him. “You had a long day, Detective.”
“Yeah.” And maybe, because she was half-asleep, he could put off the rest. “So have you. I’ll cart you in.”
“No, I’m okay.” She sat up, yawning. “Did you eat something?”
“I caught a sandwich. I’m really sorry, I tried to call.”
“And got the machine,” she said with a rueful nod. “Because I’d forgotten the paprika and had to run back out to the market.”
“You cooked?” The idea both touched him and accented his guilt.
“I amazed myself.” It felt good to settle against him when he joined her on the couch and slipped an arm around her. Cozy, right, and wonderfully simple. “Your mother’s recipe for chicken and dumplings—Hungarian-style.”
“Csirke paprikas?”Normally it would have made his mouth water. “That’s a lot of work.”
“It was a culinary adventure—and the cleaning lady will probably quit on Monday, after one look at the kitchen.” She laughed up at him, then scrubbed her knuckles over his cheek when she caught the look in his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’ll heat up just fine for tomorrow’s lunch. Then again...” She snuggled closer. “If you’re feeling really guilty, I’ll take you up on that ride to the bedroom—and whatever else you can think of.”
