Page 60 of Zero Hour

“I will,” he assured her.

Izzy might put on a brave face, but she couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes. She knew Viper was on a dangerous mission, and she was trying not to think too hard about what could happen.

“He’ll be fine, Izzy,” he said, knowing that he couldn’t promise it would be. “He’s a good operative, and he knows what he’s doing.” At least that much was true.

Izzy took a deep breath and nodded. “Jasmine can have my room,” she said, changing the subject back to him. That mischievous look in her eye reminded him so much of her mother.

He waited for the pang to hit, the familiar tightening in his chest when he thought about Astrid, but it didn’t happen. Instead, his thoughts returned to the woman sitting in his living room.

In a panic, he clutched the stem of the glass. He didn’t want to forget her, didn’t want to get over her death. It had sustained him for so long.

“What?” he said, irrationally.

“My room. She can sleep in my room. I don’t mind.”

“I’ve already made up my room. I’m taking the couch.”

“Don’t be silly, dad. You take my room then.”

He started to refuse, but she put a hand on his shoulder. “I want you to, Dad. Besides, you need to be close to Jasmine in case anything happens.”

She did have a point.

They went back to the living room, where Izzy—the little minx—sank down in the armchair he’d been using, which meant he had to sit next to Jasmine on the sofa.

He was still reeling from his ricocheting emotions, let alone how he was supposed to make conversation with his daughter, who now the shock had worn off, was back to her normal cheeky self, and the woman he was supposed to be protecting, but who filled his house with a presence that he found more unsettling than storming an enemy compound.

He needn’t have worried.

Jasmine took control of the conversation. They talked about Izzy’s fashion business, being a social media influencer and the psychology surrounding that. If he hadn’t been so bamboozled by… well, everything, he’d have found their conversation fascinating. They went on to Jasmine’s job, and her work with vets suffering from post-traumatic shock.

“That’s so interesting,” Izzy was saying, as he struggled to keep up. “I’m sure you and dad will have lots to talk about.”

That he understood loud and clear. “I don’t need my head read, if that’s what you’re implying,” he grumbled.

Izzy chuckled.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Izzy said, then turned to Jasmine. “In all seriousness, he’s been through a hell of a lot in his lifetime, half of which he won’t tell me about.” She sighed dramatically. “But you never know, maybe he’ll open up to you.”

Pat shook his head. She really was incorrigible.

“Well, this has been fun,” he said, clapping his hands together.

Izzy laughed. “Actually, I do have to go. I’ve got an early shoot tomorrow.”

Jasmine said goodbye, and then Pat got to his feet. “I’ll walk you out.”

“I like her.” Izzy whispered, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “She’s great.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunted. “It’s not like that.”

“So you keep saying.” The grin on her face made him feel even more rattled. He’d stared down enemy combatants and survived brutal interrogations, but all it took was a precocious twenty-something to make him flustered.

“If it’s any consolation, she likes you too, dad.”

He frowned, his pulse jumping involuntarily. “What makes you say that?”

“I can tell by the way she looks at you. Once this is over, and she’s safe, you should ask her out. I think she’d be good for you.”

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