Page 3 of Daddy's Little Spy

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The beeping of his watch alerted him to Amara’s arrival home just as he was pulling a batch of her favorite cinnamon rolls from the oven. Judging by the implements he’d found laid out on her bed earlier, she was going to need a bit of coddling this evening. Emilio would glower and scold him for spoiling her, but Benny didn’t mind. Spoiling his cousin’s wife had become one of his favorite hobbies.

He was slathering the icing on the rolls when Amara came sailing in the kitchen, looking as refreshed and relaxed as he could remember seeing her. The six months since she’d taken over her family’s business had taken a toll on her, and he was happy to see her looking more like herself.

Sliding onto one of the stools at the island, she sniffed the air. “Cinnamon rolls?”

“For after dinner.” If he let her have one now, she wouldn’t eat her dinner, and there was no reason to further antagonize her husband.

“But I’m starving.” A bit of a whine wound its way into her voice as she pouted and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Could I have just half of one, please, Benny?”

Nobody listening to their conversation would ever guess that Amara wasn’t just one of the most powerful women in the country, but a stone-cold assassin to boot. It warmed his heart to know he was part of the reason she felt comfortable enough to consider this her home and to drop the facade she wore like a second skin.

“No, Amara. You’re in enough trouble with your daddy as it is.”

Her nose wrinkled at the reminder. “Is he really mad?”

“He certainly wasn’t happy when I spoke to him earlier.”

“Well, he’s probably going to lose his mind when I tell him what happened at the salon. Is he in his office?”

All hints of the little girl he adored had vanished, piquing his curiosity. “Always.”

With a soft sigh and a longing look at her favorite dessert, she nodded. “You should come with me. This concerns all of us.”

Well past curious now, he rinsed the spatula he’d been using to frost the cinnamon rolls and placed it in the sink before following her out of the kitchen and down the short hall to her husband’s office.

Emilio looked up when they entered, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “There you are. I missed you, piccolina.”

Rounding the desk, Amara settled on his lap. “Did you miss me enough to get over being angry with me?”

“Yes.” Emilio’s soft smile widened, and a wicked gleam flashed in his eyes. “But not enough to get you out of the spanking you have coming. Did you enjoy your day?”

“I had a very productive day.”

Closing the door behind him, Benny lowered himself into one of the plush visitor’s chairs in front of Emilio’s desk. Amara pushed to her feet, a subtle shift in the dynamics, but one that both men in the room instantly recognized. They shared a long look before focusing their attention back on her.

“Tell us,” Emilio prompted.

Folding her hands in front of her, Amara straightened her spine, every inch the ice princess she was commonly known as. “There was a woman at the spa with me today. A cop.”

Every nerve in Benny’s body went on alert, but Emilio barely flinched. “A cop?” Emilio pressed. “Who?”

“I don’t know. The name she gave me was Diana Sullivan, but there’s no one by that name at the BPD.”

“And you think she was there for you?” Frowning, Emilio tapped a finger on the freshly polished wood of the desk. “Maybe she was just getting her hair done?”

The look Amara sent him would have been withering for any other man, but Emilio simply raised an eyebrow. “It’s a perfectly reasonable question, Amara.”

“How many cops do you know who can afford two thousand dollars’ worth of hair and skin treatments, Emilio?”

For the first time in his life, Benny saw Emilio rendered speechless with shock. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep from laughing out loud at his cousin’s expression.

“You better be joking, little girl,” Emilio eventually ground out.

“I’m not. We had almost all of the same treatments booked, which seems a little too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Two grand for a trip to the salon? Have you lost your mind?”

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