wanted to beat the shit out of the bastards who had scared her that night in Seattle.
“Thank you, Devon. It was yummy.”
Ali smiled in approval, then she stood and picked her up. “I’ll clean up as soon as I get her in bed.”
He couldn’t talk yet. There was another freaking lump in his throat. He watched Ali take her upstairs and felt something loosen in his chest. Too many emotions were rushing through him, and he needed time to work through them. He had learned at a young age to keep himself busy while he thought out things that were bothering him.
With that in mind, he decided to clean up the dishes.
* * * *
Alicia got Bridget into bed with a minimum of fuss. Bridget barely argued about it, even though she had a pretty long nap on the plane. Alicia sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Bridget’s eyes closed. She brushed a lock of hair off her face.
It seemed so odd that they were in Devon’s house in Hawaii. Less than a week ago, he had been more than a passing thought. No, that was wrong. Every time she looked at her daughter, she saw Devon. Those eyes were unmistakable. If ever a time she thought she could forget about the man who fathered her daughter, Alicia just had to look at her.
When she was sure Bridget was sleeping, Alicia made her way down the stairs to talk to Devon. He wanted answers and she couldn’t blame him. But…she still didn’t trust him completely. He was keeping things from her. Something went on at her house that he wasn’t telling her. Micah and Devon considered themselves good liars, but she could always spot them. It was one of the reasons she’d been trained for interrogation. And those two had not been telling her the truth. They had told her shades of the truth, but important things were missing.
She made her way back downstairs to Devon. It would take her a long time to get used to the house. Everywhere she looked there was wood. It was open, airy, and seemed to be part of the environment. It was hard to tell where the house ended and the outside began. He was sitting at the kitchen breakfast bar. The dishes had been stowed away, the counters were pristine.
“I said I would clean up.”
He shrugged as his gaze followed her every move. The anger had dissolved, but she knew he didn’t trust her. She understood that. Trust was harder to earn than anything else.
“I’ve been cleaning up my own messes for a while.”
She didn’t miss the double meaning.
He sipped at a golden brown liquid she assumed was whiskey. He said nothing, but kept watching her. Something tickled at the back of her throat as she waited for him to say something…anything. And, truth was, she was usually good at this. With all her training, she didn’t normally have an issue with a stare down, but this one was starting to get on her nerves. It made her uncomfortable in so many different ways, she didn’t know which way to move.
“Stop that.”
Cool amusement danced in his eyes. “What?”
“We were both trained, and I know all the tricks. You want answers, ask. Otherwise, stop trying to play games with me, Devon. I promise, you will lose them.”
“Is that the truth?”
“Yes. Remember, I was raised by a master spy. I know all the games. I know the strategies to win and I rarely worry about who gets hurt in the outcome—unless it is Bridget.”
He set his drink down on the counter and sighed. The sound was oddly lonely. She didn’t think a man like him lived a very lonely life. He was a millionaire, if not a billionaire. Those type of people always seemed to be surrounded by others.
In the short time Alicia had spent with him, Devon rarely had handlers. He definitely didn’t have entourage unless she counted sister, brother-in-law, and niece.
“You said you couldn’t find me?”
Right to the point. This she could handle. She nodded.
“But, you found me once. I assume MI-6 sent you.”
“Yes, I found you, but that was all me. I worked outside of the borders of
“Thank you, Devon. It was yummy.”
Ali smiled in approval, then she stood and picked her up. “I’ll clean up as soon as I get her in bed.”
He couldn’t talk yet. There was another freaking lump in his throat. He watched Ali take her upstairs and felt something loosen in his chest. Too many emotions were rushing through him, and he needed time to work through them. He had learned at a young age to keep himself busy while he thought out things that were bothering him.
With that in mind, he decided to clean up the dishes.
* * * *
Alicia got Bridget into bed with a minimum of fuss. Bridget barely argued about it, even though she had a pretty long nap on the plane. Alicia sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Bridget’s eyes closed. She brushed a lock of hair off her face.
It seemed so odd that they were in Devon’s house in Hawaii. Less than a week ago, he had been more than a passing thought. No, that was wrong. Every time she looked at her daughter, she saw Devon. Those eyes were unmistakable. If ever a time she thought she could forget about the man who fathered her daughter, Alicia just had to look at her.
When she was sure Bridget was sleeping, Alicia made her way down the stairs to talk to Devon. He wanted answers and she couldn’t blame him. But…she still didn’t trust him completely. He was keeping things from her. Something went on at her house that he wasn’t telling her. Micah and Devon considered themselves good liars, but she could always spot them. It was one of the reasons she’d been trained for interrogation. And those two had not been telling her the truth. They had told her shades of the truth, but important things were missing.
She made her way back downstairs to Devon. It would take her a long time to get used to the house. Everywhere she looked there was wood. It was open, airy, and seemed to be part of the environment. It was hard to tell where the house ended and the outside began. He was sitting at the kitchen breakfast bar. The dishes had been stowed away, the counters were pristine.
“I said I would clean up.”
He shrugged as his gaze followed her every move. The anger had dissolved, but she knew he didn’t trust her. She understood that. Trust was harder to earn than anything else.
“I’ve been cleaning up my own messes for a while.”
She didn’t miss the double meaning.
He sipped at a golden brown liquid she assumed was whiskey. He said nothing, but kept watching her. Something tickled at the back of her throat as she waited for him to say something…anything. And, truth was, she was usually good at this. With all her training, she didn’t normally have an issue with a stare down, but this one was starting to get on her nerves. It made her uncomfortable in so many different ways, she didn’t know which way to move.
“Stop that.”
Cool amusement danced in his eyes. “What?”
“We were both trained, and I know all the tricks. You want answers, ask. Otherwise, stop trying to play games with me, Devon. I promise, you will lose them.”
“Is that the truth?”
“Yes. Remember, I was raised by a master spy. I know all the games. I know the strategies to win and I rarely worry about who gets hurt in the outcome—unless it is Bridget.”
He set his drink down on the counter and sighed. The sound was oddly lonely. She didn’t think a man like him lived a very lonely life. He was a millionaire, if not a billionaire. Those type of people always seemed to be surrounded by others.
In the short time Alicia had spent with him, Devon rarely had handlers. He definitely didn’t have entourage unless she counted sister, brother-in-law, and niece.
“You said you couldn’t find me?”
Right to the point. This she could handle. She nodded.
“But, you found me once. I assume MI-6 sent you.”
“Yes, I found you, but that was all me. I worked outside of the borders of
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