Page 85 of The Billionaire's Son

An assault rifle? And Kelly was looking forward to this operation with the FBI?

“But you’ll stay back as an observer, right?” he asked. “You won’t be rushing into the structure with the federal agents?”

“Hell, yes, I’m going in with them. I’m not hanging back anywhere.”

“Don’t go,” Trey said before he could stop himself. “You could be hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be wearing my vest.”

He’d noticed how bulky her upper body was under her uniform. Jason called it lumpy. That meant she wore a Kevlar vest, but the reality of that fact, what it actually meant, hadn’t truly registered.

Kelly was a law enforcement officer doing a job she loved, maybe a job she was meant to do—and he understood why, now that he knew her history.

But this beautiful new light in his life could be extinguished in a matter of hours. What would that loss do to Jason?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

KELLY PEERED CLOSELY at Trey. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Or maybe that he’d just learned Santa Claus was a big fat myth.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Not really. It just hit me how dangerous your job is.”

“I’ll be fine, Trey.”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, something she’d recognized as a tell that meant he was anxious.

Was he worried about her? She ducked her head to hide a smile. She shouldn’t want anyone to worry about her, but the thought that this sexy and powerful man might care about her safety on the job created a warm glow in her chest.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. The sooner she got off this island the better.

“Have you finished packing?” he asked in a tone that told her he’d accepted the fact she was leaving.

“Yes,” she replied. “Listen, can I borrow a car for a few days until I can make other arrangements?”

“Of course,” Trey said. “Keep it as long as you like. How about an Italian sports car, maybe a convertible?”

“Maybe not. Do you have anything a little less showy?”

“An SUV?”

“That’ll work. Thanks.” She’d need to disguise herself, put her hair under a cap and wear sunglasses when she drove off the ferry. She’d be in an unfamiliar vehicle, and the paparazzi—if they were even waiting—would ignore her.

A silence fell between them, and Kelly followed his gaze to look out over the stunning elegance of his lit pool deck. She breathed in the sweet fragrance of Trey’s night-blooming jasmine, a scent she’d always associate with these amazing nighttime swims. She really would miss this place.

And its owner.

Feeling a chill now that she’d stopped moving, Kelly tightened the robe around herself. She’d fallen into the luxury of Trey Wentworth’s life far more easily than she could have imagined. Would she ever see him again? Yeah, in a tabloid or maybe on an entertainment television show.

She switched her gaze to his profile. What was he thinking? With a sinking feeling she understood he wasn’t going to say anything about them hooking up after she’d moved out. Or even about her spending tonight in his bed.

Of course she’d planned to refuse that offer, if it came—it would only make her leaving harder—but damn if she hadn’t wanted the invitation.

God, she was such a loser. She’d actually been holding out the ridiculous hope that Trey Wentworth would want to see her again. Would want to make love to her again. He might not want her standing in front of a bullet, but that was just common decency. It didn’t mean anything more.

“Well, I’d better turn in,” she said. “I’ve got an early morning.”

“I’ll make sure there’s something for you in the breakfast room,” he said.

“That’s not necessary.”

Trey shot her a look, which only confused her. Why was it so hard to say goodbye to this man?

“About that car?” she prompted.

“I’ll instruct Hans to leave the SUV in the driveway for you. The keys will be in the ignition.”

“Perfect,” she said, coming to her feet. Should she stick out her arm and shake his hand? No, she’d just pretend this was like any other night, even though it was likely the last time she’d speak to him.

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