Nodding, Banner took a hit of caffeine. His eyes went wide and glassy. “Sweet Baby Jesus, what is this? Is this New York coffee?” “Not exactly. It’s real coffee. I’ve got a connection.” “Real coffee.” He said it like a prayer, with awe and reverence. Remembering her first taste of Roarke’s coffee, she smiled. “Need a minute?” “It could take days.” He smiled back, and she saw, beneath the fatigue, a great deal of charm. “Wait till I tell the boys back home.”
