Page 77 of Knot a Thief

“She’ll make a lovely mother,” Max says. There’s a wistful tone to his words.

“Are you happy for a nanny to bring up your child?”

“Are you?” Max counters.

Hours later, unable to stay away any longer, I make my way to Ava’s room. The door is ajar, and I pause at the threshold, taken aback by the scene before me.

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine a different life, one where this scene is commonplace, where Ava isn’t our captive but a willing part of our family. The thought both thrills and terrifies me.

Reality crashes back as Lily spots me and chirps, “Daddy!”

Ava’s head snaps up, wariness replacing the soft expression she’d worn moments before.

I stride into the room, my conflicting emotions coalescing into familiar anger. “What do you think you’re doing?” My voice is low and dangerous. “Her nanny is beside herself, looking for her.”

Ava meets my gaze unflinchingly. “She was upset. I was helping because her nanny was nowhere to be seen. Maybe you should think about that.”

“That’s not your job to help Lily when you feel like it,” I spit out, even as part of me wants to thank her for comforting my child. Wants her to be the female in her life. But I know Ava won’t want to be here permanently and I don’t want to hurt my child by her being reliant on Ava.

“I enjoy being around her and she enjoys being around me.” Ava’s voice is distressed as I scoop Lily into my arms, holding her close. “Please. I won’t hurt her.”

“You already have.”

“Daddy. Ava hasn’t hurt me. Ava’s nice.”

“You have to earn my trust.”

As I turn to leave, I glimpse the hurt in Ava’s eyes before she swallows and nods.

“I’ll try. I’m sorry Silas.”

She hasn’t a clue.

I hurry from the room, my daughter in my arms and my heart in turmoil.

All because my alpha wants her, and I feel like a traitor.

Chapter 22

Seb

I grip the wheel of the hire boat tightly, my knuckles white as I navigate the choppy waters around Dupont Island.

I’m at a far enough distance to not be noticed, but not close enough for my surveillance equipment to work.

Squinting as I scan the shoreline, searching for any sign of Ava.

And any weakness in the island’s defenses that I can exploit.

I’ve already booked myself, under an alias, for the next museum visit and studied the blueprint of the island. One way or another, I will rescue my sweetheart.

There’s a constant ache in my chest, a physical manifestation of how much I miss her.

Not just her beauty. Ava is so much more than that. I miss her laugh, her touch, the way her eyes light up when she’s plotting something devious or our next job.

Up ahead is a fishing charter, and I drop my anchor close enough for the boat to make it look like we’re part of the same team. At the same time, I’m far enough away from it to not disturb their fishing expedition.

I take my binoculars and scan the island. There’s a large Spanish-style house dominating the landscape, its white stucco walls gleaming in the sunlight. A red-tiled roof cascades down in levels, giving the structure an elegant, stepped appearance. Wrought-iron balconies jut out from the upper floors, offering glimpses of the interior.

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