Imitation in Death by J. D. Robb

Men who treat them as people and wish them no harm." She folded her hands in her lap, and though she met his eyes levelly, he could almost hear the quick beat of her heart.
    "Part of breaking the cycle of abuse is overcoming fear, and reestablishing self-esteem and normal relationships."
    "I wouldn't argue that, but I wonder-if Siobahn Brody had had more fear, would she have survived? I don't know precisely what to say to you," he continued before she could speak. "Or precisely how to say it. I thought I did. First, I want to apologize for taking so long to meet with you again."
    "I've been waiting to be fired." Like his, her voice carried Ireland in it, in wisps and whispers. "Is that why you brought me here today?'
    "It's not, no. I'm sorry, I should've realized you'd be concerned after the way I left things. I was angry and... distracted." He gave a short laugh and had to stop himself from raking a hand through his hair. Nerves, he thought. Well, she wasn't the only one dealing with them. "That's one way to put it."
    "You were furious, and ready to boot me out on my ass."
    "I was. I told myself you were lying." His eyes stayed on hers, level and serious. "Had to be. Had to be sore angle in there for you telling me this girl you knew back in Dublin was my mother. It was counter to everything I'd known, believed, my whole life, you see."
    "Yes. I do see it."
    "There have been others, from time to time, who've wormed their way to me with some story of a relation. Uncle, brother, sister, what have you. Easily refuted, ignored, dealt with."
    "What I told you wasn't a story, Roarke, but God's truth."
    "Aye, well." He looked down at his hands and knew in their shape-the width of palm, the length of fingers-they were his father's hands. "I knew that, somewhere in the belly, I knew it. It made it worse. Almost unbearable really."
    He looked up again, met her eyes again. "You've a right to know I checked on you, deeply."
    "I expected you would."
    "And I -checked on her. On myself. I'd never done so before, not carefully."
    "I don't understand that. I wouldn't have told you the way I did if I hadn't thought you'd know some of it. A man like you would know whatever he needed to know."
    "It was a point of pride to me' that it didn't matter. Wouldn't matter, particularly when I believed my mother was Meg Roarke and I was as glad to see the back of her as she was of me."
    Moira let out a long breath. "I said no to coffee before because my hands were shaking. I wonder if I might trouble you for some after all."
    "Of course." He rose and walked over to open' a panel in the wall. Inside was a fully equipped minikitchen-- When she laughed, he turned in the act of programming coffee.
    "I've never seen the like of this office._ So posh. My feet nearly sank to the ankles in the carpet. You're young to have so much."
    The smile he sent her was more grim than amused. "I started early."
    "So you did. My stomach's still jumping." She pressed a hand to it. "I was certain you were bringing me in to fire me, maybe to threaten legal action of some sort. I didn't know how I was going to tell my family,.or the guests at Dochas. I hated thinking I'd have to leave. I've gotten attached."
    "As I said, I checked on you. They're lucky to have you at the shelter. How would you like your coffee?"
    "Plenty of cream, if you don't mind. Is this whole building yours, then?"
    "It is."
    "It's like a great black spear, powerful and elegant. Thanks." She accepted the coffee and took the first 'sip. Her eyes widened, then narrowed as she sniffed the contents of the cup. "Is this real coffee?"
    And that weight at the base of his skull vanished with a quick, appreciative laugh. Gone, at last. "It is, yes. I'll send you some. The first time I met my wife, I gave her coffee and she had a similar reaction. I sent her some as well. Might be why she married me."
    "I doubt that very much." She kept her gaze steady on his now. "Your mother is dead, and he killed her, didn't he?