Page 50 of Covert Temptation

He blinked, but it didn’t hide how startled he looked at her gesture.

When she returned from the kitchen, Dante was already seated at his desk. But to her surprise, he’d dragged an old wooden chair over next to his.

A warm balm of pleasure spread across her senses.

As she sank to the seat beside him, he didn’t waste any time and began filling her in. “What I’m about to show you is classified.”

She studied him. “Why are you trusting me now?”

His profile was a blank mask, giving nothing away. “Because you claim you’re trustworthy.”

Her insides gave a little leap of joy that he was granting her this confidence. “Okay…I’m listening.”

He launched into a brief recap of an attack that took out almost an entire special ops team, and Alyssa’s new boyfriend, Julian Chase, was the last man standing. They believed there was a link between that event and the attacks on Alyssa.

Both Alyssa and the special ops team were in the same city at the time of another bombing at a Red Cross in Syria that killed several workers.

As he spoke, Dante watched her closely, as if waiting for her to crack and reveal some secret.

Kennedy held back the sigh of despair fighting its way up her throat. She could argue with him, tell himagainthat she didn’t know how Alyssa’s schedule was leaked. That she had nothing to do with the software found on her phone…and that she never gave anyone access to her phone.

But that old feeling of resignation stopped her.

The words were bottled up, unable to be spoken.

“You still with me, Kennedy?”

“It depends. Is this another interrogation? Because if it is, I don’t want to help you anymore.”

He let out a low sigh and touched the back of her hand. “Let’s put that aside for now. Iwouldlike your help. I’m going to show you some photos and see if you recognize anyone in them.”

Her instinct told her to run away from this—that it was a trap. But then Dante touched her hand again, callused fingers trailing over the back of her knuckles to curl lightly around her wrist.

He was trying. She would try too.

He pulled up a photo, and she found herself studying the image of a young man. With plain brown hair and unremarkable features, he could disappear into any crowd without a second glance.

She shook her head. “I’ve never seen anyone like that.”

“Understandable,” he said slowly, “because he’s supposed to be dead.”

He clicked on a link, and video footage rolled on-screen. “This was taken from security cameras on the day Alan Shaw was shot.”

Her insides gripped at the reminder of a good friend lost. Sadness drew her lips into a tight line, but she nodded for Dante to show her.

“Slowing playback speed now. Tell me if you recognize anyone at all. Even someone Alyssa worked with,” Dante said, his voice low and focused.

Kennedy leaned over his shoulder. The glow of the laptop screen caught the sharp line of his jaw and the tightness surrounding his eyes.

She redirected her attention to the screen. A figure passed across the frame.

Something about the man tugged at Kennedy’s memory.

“Wait.” She touched his wrist lightly. “Go back. Just a few seconds.”

He hit rewind, letting the footage crawl frame by frame. Kennedy leaned closer. “There.” She tapped the screen. “Pause it.”

Dante froze the image. “What is it?”

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