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Murder was work. Some went about the job devotedly, others carelessly. And for some, murder was a labour of love.
On the day of his sixtieth birthday, Walter C. Pettibone is blissfully unaware of his impending death. His final act in life is to accept a glass of champagne by a woman with startling green eyes. A big mistake.
Homicide lieutenant Eve Dallas knows she faces a deadly foe - one with a frightening vendetta. And as the chase draws Eve dangerously close to her own dark past, her focus slips.
But then Eve's billionaire husband's name is put on Julianna's fatal list - and Eve ups her game. Luring Julianna into a dangerous trap which puts everyone at risk, Eve finds herself fighting for more than justice.
385 pages, ebook
First published March 5, 2002



The bed was covered in a spread exploding with what she thought might have been poppies ...

Watching her, knowing he had no choice but to watch her live the nightmare, Roarke broke inside.


"Darling Eve." His lips found hers again, rubbed gently. "So beautiful."
He made her feel beautiful. Made her feel clean. Made her feel whole.

She picked up the teardrop diamond he'd once given her, looped the chain over her neck. And added the St. Jude medallion to it.


“By the way, Peabody looked wonderful. Love’s in the air.” (Luise)
“Something’s in the air,” (Even grumbled)

”I know where I am and when I am. And that we’ve got an anniversary coming in a couple of days. And, Carlo, I’ve never loved you more.” (Eve)
”I feel exactly the same way, Miranda. ---- If you’re feeling better, perhaps I can let the children in. Carlo Junior, Robbie, Anna and little Alice are anxious to see their mum.” (Roarke)





He could want her, every minute of every day. Was certain he would go on wanting her after he was dead and gone. She was the pulse, the reason, the breath.

Watching her, knowing he had no choice but to watch her live the nightmare, Roarke broke inside.
When he saw her there his heart shattered. “I don’t know what to do for you.” His voice was thick with emotion, with the accent that took over when his defenses were most compromised. “What to say to you.”

“No.” She framed his face, let the tears come. “It’s so right. It’s so perfect. Can’t you see?” She lifted to him again. “Can’t you feel?” She smiled even as the tears sparkled on her cheeks. “You’ve made me beautiful.”



