Page 40 of Harmless Secrets

She was dressed in a Frozen nightgown and her hair had been brushed back from her face. She was so damned cute and precious. Devon had to resist the urge to brush his hand over the top of her head. Instead, he grabbed Hawaiian macaroni salad and some cut up fruit.

“I hope you like hot dogs,” he said.

“I do. Mummy doesn’t let me have them often.”

He glanced up at Ali. “Considering the circumstances, I think we can indulge for one night.

As they sat down, he saw Ali survey the area. In truth, he was pretty sure she didn’t even realize she was doing it. It was part of her training, probably from an early age—considering what her father did for a living. It was as second nature to her as breathing was for a normal person.

He stifled a sigh. He hated seeing her that way. There was a fine edge to her nerves and he knew she was stressed. She never let on to Bridget, though. As they sat and ate, she joked with her daughter and talked of plans for Hawaii.

Every now and then, he could pick up on her tension. A glance at her daughter, a sharp look when she heard a strange noise…she didn’t miss anything. Neither did Devon.

“I think it’s time to head to bed, poppet,” she said.

Bridget frowned. “I’m not tired.”

Then she defeated her own argument by yawning.

“Let’s go, Bridget. We’ll have lots of fun tomorrow swimming. You need your rest though. What do you say to Devon for dinner?”

Bridget gave him a sweet, sleepy smile and his heart turned over. How this little slip of a girl could undo him so easily was beyond him. Right now, though, he 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.”

“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’s Bridget.”