Sin and Sacrifice by Danielle Bourdon Page A

tapestries
lining the walls.
    Rhett stepped ahead of her
after bypassing a handful of rooms and let Christian go in ahead of
them at a door marked 214.
    Gun drawn, Christian went
in with it raised, ready for trouble. Rhett monitored the hallway,
a swivel-check each direction, until the agent returned.
    “ It's clear,” Christian
said. He exited into the hallway, taking up a post against the
opposite wall.
    “ Let's go.” Rhett guided
her over the threshold with a hand at the small of her
back.
    If Evelyn hadn't known
better, she would have thought the agents had performed this dance
a hundred times before. Their overlapping protection had few
wrinkles, little room for mistake.
    She got her first look at
what was more than just a hotel room. It was a suite, with several
doors leading off the main living area to other bedrooms and a
bathroom. Heavily Egyptian, the red and cream color scheme sported
accents of brown and gold trim. The material looked new and fresh,
the furniture heavy and solid.
    A set of french paned glass
doors drew her out onto a narrow balcony that overlooked the market
below. She could see clearly from one end of the street to the
other.
    The structure across must
have been a business with residential quarters above. Balconies
like hers jutted out from the stucco, some decorated with potted
plants, others used as a drying spot for colorful rugs.
    “ You can sleep in here,”
Rhett said behind her, motioning to one of the open
doorways.
    “ Thanks. Did Christian
talk to you about my...Galiana?” One of these times, she was going
to call the girl her sister. Chiding herself to think before she
spoke, she stepped in from the balcony and closed the doors behind
her. The barrier only cut the noise in half rather than obliterate
it completely. Evelyn wasn't sure how anyone could get any sleep
with that cacophony outside.
    Rhett watched her like a
hawk.
    “ Yes. We're waiting word
from our boss. He's supposed to call before too long.” Rhett
consulted the watch on his wrist. “Probably within the
hour.”
    “ Great. How's your wound?”
she asked out of the blue, turning her mind from dead sisters and
funerals she wouldn't be able to attend.
    Rhett dropped his bag on
the coffee table and speared a hand through his hair before sliding
his coat off.
    “ It's fine. You're looking
pretty good yourself.” His eyes traced her face and the bruises
that had faded to all but indistinguishable shadows. She knew they
were hardly recognizable from the state he'd found her in and that
the healing was curious if not questionable.
    Evelyn didn't know what to
do or say about it. This was another thing that could trip her up
if she wasn't careful.
    “ I've been icing it every
night. It helps.” She hadn't had time to ice it. Every second she
turned around there was a crisis to deal with.
    “ Mm.” He rumbled a
noncommittal noise, still studying her, like maybe he was trying to
suss out the reasons she might be healing so quick. As if he didn't
buy her icing explanation.
    “ I'm going down to talk to
the clerk on duty, have a look around,” Christian said from the
hallway.
    Rhett ticked his chin in
goodbye.
    The door clicked when
Christian closed it.
    Evelyn didn't have time to
give a goodbye of her own. She broke eye contact with Rhett and
made her way into the bedroom he'd indicated. Better to settle in
and let the topic of wounds pass by. The few hours sleep she got on
the yacht healed the remaining wounds on her hands, leaving her
fingers looking normal, the redness gone.
    Spacious and as well
decorated as the rest of the suite, the room had a queen bed and
its own small bathroom. Setting the purse she'd been carrying on
the dresser, she sank onto the mattress and flopped back. It felt
like she'd been on the run for weeks instead of an intense few
days.
    “ You hungry? I'm going to
order up.” Rhett called from the living room.
    “ Actually...yes. Will you
choose something for me?” Feeling whimsical,