Page 58 of Zero Hour

Pat bolted upstairs, hurriedly stripping his bed and throwing on fresh sheets. He stuffed the used ones into the laundry basket and shoved that into the closet. Then, after cracking open a window to let in some air, he jogged back downstairs.

The doorbell rang.

He frowned, reaching for his weapon. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

It rang again.

He heard a female voice through the wood. “Pat, open up. It’s me—Izzy.”

Izzy. What was she doing here?

“Who is it?” Jasmine appeared in the living room doorway, alarm written all over her face.

“Don’t worry,” he said, raising a hand. “It’s just my daughter.”

Even saying the word out loud felt weird.

Her eyes widened. “Yourdaughter?”

More knocking. “I know you’re in there. I can see the light is on.”

She knew him too well.

He opened the door, and Izzy stood there with her signature grin.

“Hi, Dad.”

Despite himself, he broke into a grin. “You don’t have to call me that if you don’t want to.”

She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “Idowant to. You’ve been more of a father to me than Richard ever was.”

Something warm curled in his chest.

She pulled back. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I reacted before. It was a shock, that’s all. I’m over it now.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry I sprung it on you like that. Subtlety has never been my strong point.”

She laughed, then waltzed past him into the hallway—pausing when she spotted Jasmine.

“Oh.” Her grin widened. “I didn’t realize you hadcompany.”

“It’s not like that,” he said, quickly.

When he didn’t continue, Jasmine stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Jasmine. Your father is letting me stay here for a while, until it’s safe for me to go home.”

Izzy’s eyebrows shot up. “Safe? Are you in danger?”

“Izzy—”

“Your father’s company has it under control,” she said, smoothly. Pat was impressed by her warmth and composure. He could see how she’d won Al-Jabiri over. Jasmine held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Same.” Izzy shook it, casting a sideways glance at him. He shifted awkwardly, unable to meet her gaze.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, his throat tight.

Izzy chuckled, which irked him even more. “Sure. A glass of wine if you have any.” She glanced at Jasmine. “Join me?”

“Why not?” Jasmine replied. “I could do with something a little stronger than tea.”

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