Page 5 of Wilde and Deadly

Her smile fell flat. “Of course. I just… I’d like to see my big sister?—”

“You’re seeing me now.”

“In person,” Rue stressed. “Before I go on my next trip.”

Something about the way she said the word “trip” made the little hairs prickle at the back of Rowan’s neck. “Where are you going?”

“Just taking some scientists to Antarctica. No big deal.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Antarctica? In January? That sounds dangerous.”

Rue waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. January is summer down there, and I’ve done plenty of cold-weather expeditions before.”

“Yeah, but… what kind of scientists? What are they studying?”

“Just some climatologists and geologists. Boring stuff.” Rue’s eyes slid away from the camera. “Look, can we not talk about my work?”

The abrupt change of subject set off alarm bells in Rowan’s head. “Rue, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Probably about as much as you’re not telling me,” she shot back. “You share, I share.”

“No.”

“Then, also, no.” Rue sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just miss you, okay? Mom and Dad miss you. Why don’t you come home?”

A lump formed in Rowan’s throat. “Is Dad losing his mind?”

“You know he is. Mom practically had to tie him down to keep him from coming after you.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s grumpy.”

“He’s always grumpy. But he’s healing well?”

After decades of dealing with a busted-up foot from a car accident that happened before they were born, Gabe Bristow had finally been forced to have the limb amputated below his knee late last summer. Rowan had waited until he’d made it safely through surgery, then took off, figuring she’d have a good head start with him in the hospital for two weeks. Of course she’d expected Dad to send one of his guys after her—probably Jackson Quinn or Wyatt Warrick, since they were poised to take over the team when Dad finally decided to retire. What she hadn’t expected was for him to hire the job out to Wilde Security Worldwide—to Davey, the one person she needed to avoid at all costs, the one person who was like gravity, constantly pulling her back into his orbit.

Did Dad know how she felt about Davey?

Maybe.

Probably.

And, as usual, Dad had out-maneuvered her.

“Yes, he’s healing,” Rue said in answer to her question. “He’s started using the prosthetic, but he can’t move as quickly as he’d like. And that pisses him off. He hates the walker more than he hated his old cane.”

Rowan smiled at the image of her big, tough father using a walker. Hewouldhate that. He’d barely tolerated the cane, using it only when absolutely necessary.

Unlike Audrey Bristow, who had embraced aging by letting her hair go steel gray—according to her, she was in her “witchy era”—Gabe steadfastly refused to admit he was getting older. He had a workout regimen that most men half his age wouldn’t be able to keep up with, and at the rate he was going, he would live to be one hundred and fifty.

Unless something happened to him.

Unless Rowan’s enemies went after him to get to her.

And he was vulnerable right now, healing from a major surgery, learning to use his prosthetic.

Her smile faded at the thought. “I can’t come home. I’ll put everyone in danger.”

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