She pushed herself up, swayed, and might have tumbled if Feeney hadn't gripped her arm. "Head rush. I'm okay, just a little queasy. Lowell's in there, secured. You need to haul his ass in. Your collar." "No, it's not." Feeney gave her arm a squeeze. "But I'll haul his ass in for you. McNab, help the lieutenant upstairs, then get your butt back down here and start on the electronics." "I don't need help," Eve protested. "You fall on your face," Feeney murmured in her ear, "you'll ruin your exit." "Yeah. Yeah." "Just lean on me, Lieutenant." McNab wrapped an arm around her waist. "You try to cop a feel, I can still put you down." "Whatever your condition, Dallas, you still scare me." "Aw." Touched, she slung an arm around his shoulders. "That's so sweet.
( J.D. Robb )
[ Creation in Death ]
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