Page 9 of Prodigal Son

A knock sounded at the door.

They traded matching suspicious looks. “What–” they started at the same time.

The knock sounded again. “Boys,” Eden’s voice called through the door. “You aren’t going to make a lady wait out in the hall, are you?”

“Jesus fuck,” Fox said.

The same moment Devin said, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

At least they weren’tidenticalexclamations.

Since Devin made no move to get up, Fox jumped to his feet – damn it, why was he jumping for Eden? He told himself it was because of her threat about the cops – and went to let her in.

She was dressed not for a meeting, but for practical work: dark jeans, Docs, black t-shirt and her trench coat, hair in an untidy bun at the back of her head. The contrast from her appearance yesterday, the shock of seeing her the way he remembered her, all business and no play – unless you knew how to ask right – sent a rippling shudder through his system. The nervousness in her eyes didn’t help either; she looked like she used to back when she needed him.

She didn’t care about his flashback, though. Her gaze flicked to the glass in his hand. “Starting early, aren’t you?” And when he didn’t respond. “Charlie, let me in, this is serious.”

And…thatwas why they’d split up. Thanks for the reminder, love.

He shook off the fog of remembrance and stepped back, letting her slip inside before he scanned the hallway – empty – and relocked the door. When he turned around, he found Devin on his feet, executing a gallant bow across the coffee table. Jesus.

“Hello, darling,” Devin said, flashing her his best lady-killer grin, the one that showed his dimples and a bit of charmingly crooked teeth. “Delightful to see you again.”

Eden shot Fox a flat look. “Is he serious right now?”

“He’salwaysserious about pretty girls.”

“Guilty as charged,” Devin said, still grinning like a shithead.

Eden made a quiet sound of disgust and shook her head. “Anyway. Gentlemen, I’m afraid I haven’t come with good news.” She slid right into her old secret service persona seemingly without effort, hands on her hips, one booted foot cocked out to the side.

Those damn boots were distracting; Fox had always liked her in more practical clothes, when she was stripped down to her truest – and in his opinion – best self.

Hehadto stop thinking about her like this.

He pulled on his Serious Personality. Such as it was. Walked back to the couch and sat down hard, so as not to be seen keeping on his feet and acting chivalrous or anything like that. “Let me guess. You turned him in?”

“No.” She sounded insulted. “Of course not. But the company left a message with my assistant: they’re dropping me because I couldn’t deliver fast enough. They’ve hired another firm – one that I’m sure won’t do you the courtesy of letting you know that Pseudonym’s after you.”

Devin groaned and sank back onto his couch. “Which firm?”

“Cavendish.”

“Shit,” he said, with feeling. “They’ve seen the video?”

“Oh, so you’ll admit you were on video forher,” Fox complained.

“I have no way to confirm that, but I would think so,” Eden said. “And I’m willing to bet some of the boys at Cavendish will recognize your face.”

“Yeah. Bollix.”

“Who knows where you live?” Fox asked.

Devin shrugged.

“Which, okay. Been meaning to ask. What’s up with this place? I feel like I walked into an Ikea showroom. It actually smells…good.”

“I’m insulted,” Devin said.

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