Page 14 of Wired Strong

“You aren’t worried about the evidence they’re gathering against you?” Fernandez asked Sophie. “They could charge you with conspiracy to defraud, at least.”

“The worst they can do, by proving I helped cover up for Remarkian, would be to strip the company and his possessions from me.” Sophie shrugged. “But it would be a battle I think I’d win.”

“It’s significant,” Fernandez warned.

But Sophie was upset about something else. “I can’t believe Dad knows everything.” She let loose a sharp stream of invectives in Thai. “I can’t believe he’d lie to me. Pretend like this.”

“That’s not all on the subject of your father, unfortunately.” Raveaux walked over and sat down on the end of the couch furthest from Sophie. He met her gaze squarely. “The ambassador asked to meet. During that meeting, he made it clear he . . . wanted Connor captured. He was providing intel to the task force, and cooperating with them voluntarily.” Raveaux leaned forward, his fingers laced between his knees. “I want you to know everything. It might hurt now, but will save you pain later.” Raveaux swallowed apprehensively. “Your father made it clear to me that—he didn’t approve of your choices in men.”

Sophie snorted. “Screw him. He’s hardly in a position to pass judgment on me, after marrying Pim Wat.” She stood up abruptly. She wore a swirl of red skirt like a matador’s cape with a narrow top that showcased her superb upper body, and no jewelry but that flash of Jake’s diamond on her hand. “I knew Dad didn’t mean it when he said he supported me in this pregnancy. I knew he was hiding something!”

Raveaux froze, and absorbed this as best he could without giving away shock. Many years as an investigator helped him keep his facial expression neutral, his voice even. “You’re—pregnant?”

“Yes, Pierre, I am. And it’s none of your damn business.” Sophie spun around, that skirt flaring.

Fernandez leaned forward and harrumphed. “Sophie, this is big news to anyone working with you. I would have wanted to know that, myself.”

Sophie glared at Fernandez. “How is it any of your business, either? The fact that my uterus is now occupied has nothing to do with my legal defense. I’m sick and tired of these patriarchal responses. And don’t you dare tell me I’m being overly emotional. I went to my father for protection, only to find out he’s helping the enemy.” Her hands gripped her hips.She was magnificent. “I’m going to the restroom. And when I get back, you two better have some useful suggestions for me.”

The carpet was too thick for her stride to make much sound, but Raveaux felt her power as she swept out of the room. The heavy door shut soundlessly behind her.

Raveaux stared at that door.She was pregnant, with Jake’s baby.A tiny bloom of happiness for her warmed him, somewhere beneath his sternum. That child would be such a comfort to her. “What a beautiful thing to come from sorrow,” he said.

“Yes. And Sophie is right; her pregnancy is none of our concern.” Fernandez retrieved a briefcase from beside his seat. He set it on the coffee table and popped the latches to remove some papers. “I’m afraid, in light of all this information, I’m going to have to refer you, Monsieur Raveaux. I have a colleague who deals with international and immigration law. She’s a lovely woman to work with; I think you’ll be an excellent fit, and I’ll give her a call today to ensure that she makes room in her schedule to take you on.” He handed Raveaux a card. “Now, what other suggestions are we going to have for Sophie when she returns?”

Raveaux accepted the card. His mind was whirring. “Thank you. The referral will be fine. And in the meantime, I do have some ideas for her.”

Chapter Twelve

Sophie

Sophie stompedpast Paula at her desk and went on to the main women’s bathroom in the hall. Once inside, she flipped the deadbolt to lock it—she wanted complete privacy. This restroom was well-appointed with a sitting area, a vanity with good lighting, a shower and dressing room, and a series of toilet stalls.

Sophie hurried into the nearest stall and dealt with her overactive bladder. She’d never understood this stage of pregnancy: the baby was hardly taking up any room, but she still needed to pee every hour or so.

She washed her hands, examining her image in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes still wide with anger.

When had she ever let herself go like that? Raising her voice? Swearing at a man?

Her early marriage to an abusive husband had taught her to retreat, to close down, to conceal all emotion behind a frozen mask. Maybe she was coming out of that, finally—or maybe it was just hormones.Not that either of them would dare accuse her of a hormonal outburst—she had made sure of it.

Remembering the expressions on their faces made her snort.

And then she laughed, and then that became hysteria, and then tears.

Definitely hormones.

But behind her anger, was hurt.

Betrayal.

Even shame.

Her father didn’t approve of her choices. Frank was trying to manipulate and protect her by making some kind of deal with that infernal investigation team. Sophie needed protection—from her foolish choices in men, from Connor, and from Pim Wat and her powerful consort, the Master. That’s what his rationale would be, she was sure of it.

The Secret Service must have been how they got to him. Sophie could imagine Kate Smith, with her honest blue eyes, approaching Frank with a proposal that he help his daughter get free from the taint of involvement with the Yam Khûmk?n and her deadly mother; and from Connor, a man with questionable motives.

That would not have been a hard sell. Her father’s hatred for his ex-wife had been ignited afresh by finding out that Pim Wat was not only a manipulative depressive, but a spy and an assassin who had likely used him to gain information. Sophie still remembered the pain in his eyes when the truth about Pim Wat came to light.

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