Page 26 of The Devil's Pawn

Awesome.

Not.

He comes back in carrying a black leather satchel.

It’s a nice handbag. Very much my style, but I’m not sure how much I’ll be using it, considering I won’t be going anywhere. But maybe I can once I’m out of here.

“Thank you,” I say reaching for it as he comes to stand before me.

His lips slant up into a lopsided grin that has my stomach knotted up. “Open it.”

“Okay?” I curiously unzip it once I place it on the table.

Then I gasp, tears springing into my eyes.

No way.

“Wha— How?” I stammer, running my finger past the stethoscope.

There’s practically everything I had in my own bag, plus more.

“So you like it?” he questions knowingly.

“Are you kidding me?” I wipe a tear or two from my eye, not believing he did this. “I love it. I had one, but I left it at home. You don’t know how badly I needed this. But it’s too much. How did you even know?”

“I figured every doc needs her stash.” He slips his hands into his black trousers, his shirt pulling against the muscular width of his chest as the buttons practically beg me to undo them. “You’ve helped me more than you realize. I wanted to do something in appreciation.”

“This is amazing. Thank you,” I whisper, zipping up the bag as my gaze finds his, unable and unwilling to let it go. “You’ve been so good to me.”

His eyes search mine, his jaw twitching, the breaths slipping from his lungs fighting for space with mine.

“I have to go,” he says gruffly, ripping apart that spark of connection that was there seconds ago. “I’ll be at work all night. Damn overseas clients.”

“Okay.” I don’t know what else to say from the change in his demeanor.

He starts to walk away, but suddenly freezes in place.

“Don’t wait,” he throws over his shoulder. “Go to sleep without me. You’re safe here.”

I feel so alone already. This house is too big for just me.

“How will I reach you if I need you?”

How will I survive without a phone? I’m so cut off from everyone.

“If you need me, ask one of my men to call me. I’ll always be available for you.”

“Thanks.” I wish he’d stay a little longer, but his back is already turned.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

* * *

DANTE

“Sir, we’re positioned,” Roger alerts Dom through his walkie-talkie as our van comes to a stop. “We see some movement inside. Two men so far. Both armed.”

Roger is one of those dudes who, by day, seems like the nicest person alive—and I guess he has to be, considering he runs a martial arts school—but no one would know he’s one hell of a killer, and an ex-army sniper.

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