“You don’t have to get up at six. You have a free day.” “To paraphrase Ian, I go with the Boss Cop. No, not to the morgue.” Since she was fading, he guided her to the bed, where the cat sprawled. “But I’ll get you up, Lieutenant.” “’Kay.” She yanked off her boots, her clothes, and would’ve fallen facedown on the bed if he hadn’t pulled the spread off first. She was out before he slid in beside her. The cat stirred enough to rearrange himself. Roarke brushed his lips over her hair, closed his eyes. And dropped into sleep with her.
