Quotes About Roarke

Roarke made some notations on the fax—a

Roarke pointed a finger at Galahad who'd begun his crouch toward the berries. The cat turned his head toward the screen as if suddenly enraptured by the financial new.

The computer hummed, sliced Roarke's face onto the screen. Such an intriguing couple. His background was no prettier than the cop's had been. But he'd chosen, at least initially, the other side of the law to make his mark. And his fortune. Now they were a set. A set that could be destroyed on a whim. But not yet. Not for some little time yet. After all, the game had just begun.

It's her high school—I'm sure of it, as I found this document as well." Roarke called up a blueprint of Hillary Clinton High School. "Certain classrooms, certain areas were highlighted, egresses marked.

Wine?" Roarke said, lifting the bottle. "No. Jesus." Then she took his glass, and a minute sip. "Pretty good stuff. I'm going to let her string him a little longer. So, want to open another bottle when we get home, and have half-drunk sex?" "I think of nothing else every waking moment." He dropped an arm around her shoulders as they watched Peabody work.

Simmering estrogen." Roarke sipped his wine. "Sounds bloody dangerous

Christ Jesus. Torn between amusement and pain, Roarke dabbed at the blood on his lip. You make romance a dangerous business.

Roarke: The bodies of the three men were found floating in the Chattahoochee River. Eve: I think it'd be embarrassing to be dead in the Hoochie-Coochie River. Roarke: Chattahoochee Eve: What's the difference? Roarke: Quite a bit, I'd think.