By François Schuiten, Benoît Peeters
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Extra info for Les cités obscures : L'ombre d'un homme
She smiled, too. "Oh, I wouldn't want to sleep if he was hungry," she mused dreamily. " He remembered his wife complaining bitterly about lost sleep, making formula, giving bottles. She hated everything to do with the baby, and couldn't begin to understand his affection for the tiny little boy, who wasn't even... He closed his mind to the anguish that memory fostered, and concentrated on his driving instead. Apparently Cy's men were asleep in the bunkhouse, because the ranch house was quiet when they arrived.
He looked dangerous, something Harley noted with surprise. " Harley went through the kitchen and out the back door without another word. "He really was showing me how to get out of a hold," she told Cy with her hands on her hips. Cy moved toward her, too jealous to think properly. "Was he now? And you've learned the lesson? Show me. " He had her around the waist and flush against every line of his lean, powerful body before she could speak. She opened her mouth to protest and his lips claimed hers, hungry and rough and demanding.
We left the crowbar right where it dropped. The man wasn't even wearing gloves. There are enough fingerprints on it to convict him. " He turned toward her. "A man wearing an Armani suit drove up here a few days ago and introduced himself as my new neighbor. There's a honey packing warehouse on my border. " She stilled. " "Raw cocaine," he replied. "Or, rather, cocaine paste. " she gasped. "Right here," he said. " "They won't find cocaine if they do," he said carelessly. "In fact, I'd bet my boots that they'll phone in a tip about themselves just to draw the law out there to check around.