Leverage in Death (In Death, #47)

by J.D. Robb

What would you do to save two people you love more than yourself, more than anything?” Roarke laid a hand over hers. “Absolutely anything.”

“You do know it’s leopards that don’t change their spots, not polka dots?” “A leopard’s born, lives, and dies a leopard, so that’s that.” “That’s rather the point of the adage.” “Why need an adage on something that’s just that? It’s a waste of words. If people didn’t have stupid sayings about the obvious, they wouldn’t waste so many words and talk so damn much.”

I never like convenient. It brushes close to coincidence.”

She lay under him, weak, dizzy, empty of anger. And somehow tendrils of sorrow trailed in to fill the void. “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s never you.” “It’s never me you want to distrust,” he countered. “But there are still times, just now and then, when those cop’s eyes are on me and say different.”