"Your dinner guests," he said, curling his lip, "have arrived."
"Thank you, Summerset." Roarke got to his feet. "We'll have the hors d'oeuvres in here." He held out a hand to Eve.
She waited, deliberately, until Summerset had stepped out again before swinging her feet to the floor.
"In the interest of good fellowship," Roarke began as they started toward the foyer, "could you not mention the stick in Summerset's ass for the rest of the evening?"
"Okay. If he rags on me I'll just pull it out and beat him over the head with it."
"That should be entertaining."
Summerset had already opened the door, and Sam Peabody had his hand clasped, pumping away in a friendly greeting. "Great to meet you. Thanks for having us. I'm Sam, and this is Phoebe. It's Summerset, isn't it? DeeDee's told us you take care of the house, and everything in it."
"That's correct. Mrs. Peabody," he said, nodding at Phoebe. Officer. Detective. Shall I take your things?"
"No, thank you." Phoebe held on to the box she carried. "The front gardens and landscaping are beautiful. And so unexpected in the middle of such an urban world."
"Yes, we're quite pleased with it."
"Hello again." Phoebe smiled at Eve as Summerset shut the front door. "And Roarke. You were right, Delia, he is quite spectacular."
"Mom." Peabody choked out the word as the flush flooded her face.
"Thank you." Roarke took Phoebe's hand, lifted it to his lips. "That's a compliment I can return. It's wonderful to meet you, Phoebe. Sam." He shifted, shook Sam's offered hand. "You created a delightful and charming daughter."
"We like her." Sam squeezed Peabody's shoulders.
"So do we. Please, come in. Be comfortable."
He's so good at it, Eve thought as Roarke settled everyone in the main parlor. Smooth as satin, polished as glass. Within moments, everyone had a drink in their hands and he was answering questions about various antiques and art pieces in the room.
Since he was dealing with the Peabodys, Eve turned her attention to McNab. The EDD whiz was decked out in what Eve imagined he considered his more conservative attire. His periwinkle shirt was tucked into a pair of loose, silky trousers of the same tone. His ankle boots were also periwinkle. A half-dozen tiny gold hoops paraded up his left earlobe.
He wore his long blond hair in a ponytail that was slicked back from his face. And his pretty face, Eve noted, was approximately the color of a boiled lobster.
"You forget the sunblock, McNab?"
"Just once." He rolled his green eyes. "You should see my ass."
"No." She took a deep gulp of wine. "I shouldn't."
"Just making conversation. I'm a little nervous. You know." He nodded toward Peabody's father. "It's really weird making small talk with him when we both know I'm the one banging his daughter. Plus, he's psychic, so I keep worrying if I think about banging her, he'll know I'm thinking about banging her. And that's way too weird."
"Don't think about it."
"Can't help it." McNab chuckled. "I'm a guy."
She scanned his outfit. "That's the rumor anyway."
"Excuse me." Phoebe touched Eve's arm. "Sam and I would like to give you and Roarke this gift." She offered Eve the box. "For your generosity and friendship to two of our children."
"Thanks." Gifts always made her feel awkward. Even after more than a year with Roarke and his habit of giving, she never knew quite how to handle it.
Perhaps it was because she'd gone most of her life without anyone caring enough to give.
She set the box down, tugged on the simple twine bow. She opened the lid, pushed through the wrapping. Nestled inside were two slender candlesticks fashioned from glossy stone in greens and purples that melted together.
"They're beautiful. Really."