Page 76 of Unravelling The Hitman: A BWWM Romance

After Rhia’s visit last night, that was for the best.

Sand scattered like glitter from her sun-kissed brown skin. She straightened when she was satisfied and looked at me. “You coming or…?”

“You two go ahead. I need to speak with Miguel.”

“Come on, Reid.” Angel offered her hand.

My son shook his head and held tightly to his paintbrush.

I twisted his hips, turned him to face me and leveled him a firm glance. “Son, listen to Angel.”

His lips trembled and, for a moment, I feared he would put up a fuss. With a sniff, he tossed the paintbrush down and allowed Angel to pick him up. She swooped him into her arms and caught him on her hip. He easily wound his hands around her neck.

It had only been a couple of days, but it seemed my son had taken to her just as much as I.

“I’ll come back and clean up later,” Angel said.

“Don’t bother. I’ll do it.”

“Okay. We’ll be upstairs.” She hoisted Reid higher on her hip. I sensed the wariness in her gaze as she looked at me, as she fought the attraction we both felt.

She’d, undoubtedly, heard when I called out Rhia’s name last night in the hotel room. It must have left her with questions, but answering those questions would lead to even more.

Maybe it was better I let her think Rhia was some woman I’d picked up on my trip.

Or maybe not.

I’d worked so hard to gain her trust, throwing it away like this, even if it was for her own good, angered me.

Angel lingered. “I’ll give him a bath and then finish dinner.”

“If you wait a bit, I can bathe him.” Our gazes locked. I reached out but didn’t touch her. “Thank you, Angel.”

She nodded and left.

I watched them to make sure they’d gotten in safely before I headed to Miguel’s cottage.

The tiny yellow bungalow sat within walking distance of the villa. The sandy path was littered with squatting palm trees.

Miguel was waiting for me on the front porch. He stood when I approached and gestured to the front door.

I shook my head and lifted my hands to ask him, “Did you find any signs of intrusion?”

“No.” He signed back.

“Thanks. Keep an eye out.”

“Wait.” He handed me a plastic bag. “For Angel.”

“What is it?”

“Something that belongs to her.”

Curiosity surged. What kind of gift would Miguel give to Angel? Were they closer than I’d thought?

I opened the bag.

It was Angel’s missing bra from the night we’d spent in the hammock.

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