She stepped toward him, tipping her head to the side as she watched him. “It’s tonight, isn’t it?”
Sean’s blood went cold.
“What’s tonight?”
“Whatever this thing is you came down here to do,” she said. “I’m guessing it’s some kind of raid or arrest or something?”
“Don’t.”
She sighed.
He gripped the edge of the desk, trying to keep a grip on his reaction. This was his fault. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have the slightest inkling of why he was really down here, and she wouldn’t be asking questions about it right now.
Her fake smile fell away. She lifted her hand and traced her fingertip over his jaw, just below his cut.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked.
“No.”
“Are you lying again?”
“No.”
She rolled her eyes. Then she crossed her arms and gave him that pissed-off look that was somehow easier to stomach than the disappointed look she’d had a minute ago.
“Be careful,” she said sternly.
“I will.”
She gazed up at him with so much intensity, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her forehead, even though he knew for a fact that would irritate the hell out of her.
She checked her watch. “I have to go.” She turned and opened the door. “Thanks for letting me know about dinner.”
He stepped into the hallway, then turned and looked back at her.
“Leyla, I’m—”
“Don’t say it again. I know. Just be careful, okay?”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
•••
Miguel drove past the lighthouse and found a space at the end of a long row of cars. He pulled in and parked.
“This okay?” he asked.
Nicole glanced around, still worried about being seen with him. He’d parked facing the beach, but this lot was pretty well patrolled. Someone she knew might see her.
He reached into his back seat and rummaged around. Fast-food bags littered the floor, and the car smelled like cigarettes. He grabbed a foil window screen with suction cups and handed it to her.
“Here,” he said. “You can block the view.”
Nicole pressed the screen against the side window.
“So.” Miguel turned in his seat to face her. “I thought I would have heard from you by now.”