Opposite the windows was a library, the doors open and welcoming. She caught a glimpse of arching windows framed in white and floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books before Desi led her onward. Halfway down the hall, a wide, red-carpeted staircase led down to the main level. Next, she passed a large main bathroom and a bedroom with a dark wood canopy bed. The hall ended and turned to the right. Five open doors were spaced far apart. Desi stopped at the first one.

  “I chose this room for you. If you’d rather have another, let me know.” Desi stood aside so she could enter the bedroom.

  A dainty four-poster bed with a white comforter and yellow, sage and brown pillows had a bench at its foot. A yellow rug spread out from the bed over the off-white carpet. On each side, big windows overlooked the pool. To the right were two chairs with a lamp on a table between, and to the left was a bathroom.

  “There is a closet through the bathroom,” Desi said.

  There were no dressers in the bedroom, only a television on a table that matched the design of the bed and bench.

  She turned back to Desi with a smile. “This is lovely.”

  He smiled back and began to leave.

  “Wait.”

  He stopped.

  “How did you know we met in Iceland?” she asked.

  “I overheard him talking to an associate,” he said.

  “An associate?”

  “An ex-CIA operative he asked to watch over you once he realized you looked at his cell phone,” Desi said.

  Ex-CIA? How did Raith know someone like that? This must not be information he wasn’t allowed to share. And she wasn’t surprised Raith had known she’d looked at his phone.

  “Raith watches over everyone he cares about,” he said.

  Having no reply to that, she waited until Desi gave her a bow of his head and left. But his revelation gave her mixed feelings. Kai had hired him because someone had tried to kill him. That suggested Raith had at least a bit of a heroic streak in him. But was that enough to trust him with sharing her news? Autumn wasn’t convinced.

  * * *

  The next morning, Autumn used the stairs she’d passed on the way to the bedroom last night. On the main level, she found herself in a hallway similar to the one above, except this one opened to the right into a spacious living room. One of the turrets arched the line of windows in front. High above, modern chandeliers hung from a thick beam running the length of the room.

  She heard activity in the kitchen and went there. Desi was busy preparing something, some sort of breakfast casserole.

  He glanced back at her. “Make yourself at home. Raith will be out in a few minutes.”

  “Where is he?”

  “In his office.”

  Again? “What’s he doing in there?”

  Desi resumed whisking an egg mixture in a bowl. “I stopped asking him those questions a long time ago.”

  She walked to the kitchen island that divided the living room from the kitchen. “You don’t know what he does for a living?”

  “Oh, I have an idea. But I’ve found it’s best not to ask questions.” He glanced at her again. “I’m sure it’s nothing too terrible.”

  Too terrible?

  “He’s a good man, that’s the important thing.”

  Autumn wondered if that was the case all the time. “You cook for him?”

  “Clean, cook. Shop. Whatever he needs me to do. He asked me to prepare meals while you’re here.” He stopped whisking and looked back at her again. “He said to make them good.” He winked and resumed his work.

  Where did all his romantic ideas come from? “You care about him.”

  “As I’ve said, Raith is a good man.”

  Beginning to feel awkward, Autumn turned toward the dining area. Through an archway to the right, there was a small entry and a double door—the one that led to the front door. Past the dining room, another archway led to what appeared to be a parlor. Intrigued, she wandered there, feeling Desi eye her.

  The parlor was charming, with a piano positioned in a turret, sheer white drapes swooping over four tall windows. A Victorian sofa and two butter-yellow chairs sat before a gas fireplace. Behind the sofa, there was plenty of room to walk along a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.

  Another archway led to a vestibule with three doorways. The one to the left was glass and revealed a portion of an indoor pool. The one to the right had a keypad next to it. Autumn tested the handle to the one ahead and discovered a huge garage. Going to the third door, she entered the code Desi had given her into the keypad. The door didn’t open. But as she pulled her hand free and was about to return to the kitchen, it opened and Raith stood there.

  Beyond him, she caught a glimpse of a large U-shaped desk with several computer monitors and a living area with a kitchenette. He shut the door behind him.

  “What’s in there?” she asked.

  “Security system and my office.”

  “I thought your office was off the front entry.”

  “This connects to that.”

  A secret office?

  “This part is off-limits to everyone but me.”

  She found that both peculiar and believable. “Why? Are you hiding dead bodies in there?”

  His face didn’t even crack a wrinkle of humor, and humor is what would get her through this. Pregnant. By him, this mysterious, black ops man.

  “Your personal assistant won’t even say what it is you do,” she said.

  He cocked his head, possibly a little incredulous over her audacity.

  “People hire you when their lives are in danger.” She’d seen that much. “How do you drum up business? Advertising must be tough. Are you incorporated?”

  “LLC.”

  “You pay taxes?”

  He chuckled. “Yes.”

  “What do you put down as your professional title?”

  “Private investigator.”

  Was he really a P.I.? “Can you be a P.I. without some kind of license?”

  “I’m legal, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “What kind of cases do you take?”

  “The word-of-mouth kind.” He walked past her.

  She followed him through the parlor. “But not the kind that involves the cops.” He didn’t respond.

  “Are you an assassin?”

  In the kitchen, Desi handed a glass of orange juice to Raith, who took it and turned, his eyes hard and on her while he drank. Desi handed her a glass, too, and when she took it, he went back to work on breakfast. He sure was in tune with his boss.

  When Raith lowered the orange juice, he didn’t back down from her eyes.

  “Are you?” she asked, despite his attempt to intimidate her to stop grilling him.

  “If someone shoots at me, I’m going to shoot back.”

  “No one’s ever paid you to kill someone?”

  His eyes remained unexpressive. Shrewd. Cold, even. A chill prickled her skin. What things had this man seen and experienced to make him this way? What had led him down this path?

  Behind him, Desi sneaked a look at them after checking the breakfast casserole he had in the oven. He may not ask about Raith’s profession, but must know something.

  Raith’s cell phone began ringing. He removed it from the holder on his belt and checked the caller ID. An instant later, the indifference in his eyes flared into resentment. Putting the phone back into the holder, he looked at Desi.

  “You’re going to have to answer it eventually,” Desi said, pausing during the task of rinsing out a bowl.

  Raith continued to look at him.

  “He’s going to keep calling until you do.”

  “Who?” Autumn asked.

  When Raith didn’t answer, Desi said, “His father.”

  “Why aren’t you talking to your father?” He’d said he hadn’t talked to him in years. Why was he ignoring his father’s attempts to do so now? She couldn’t imagine not talking to hers. Her mother wouldn’t stand for it, first of all. Family meant everything to her.

  “What’s the point?” Raith asked.

  The bite in his tone told her that somewhere inside of him he did want to talk to his dad. He just hadn’t admitted it to himself yet.

  “He’s obviously trying to reach out to you,” Desi said. “Maybe he’s trying to make amends, have a son in his life for real this time.”

  “I’m not going to pick up where we left off. He had his chance.”

  Autumn sat on one of the stools before the island. “How many times has he tried to call?”

  “A lot,” Desi said, and went on despite the glower from Raith. “Almost every day for about a month now.”

  “He must need to get a hold of you,” she said to Raith.

  Raith looked at her. “Leaman Marshall has a sister in Houston. I need to go meet with her, and I can’t leave you here.”

  “What?”

  “Be ready to fly back there in the morning,” he said. “I made flight reservations for 10:00 a.m.”

  He’d explained that he’d learned Tabor Creighton’s real name. “You’ve been busy in your top-secret office.”

  Raith ignored her and turned to Desi. “Would you bring me some of that when it’s ready?” He gestured toward the oven.

  “Of course,” Desi said.

  With one more hard glance at Autumn, Raith headed back toward the secure door to his hidden office.

  When she heard the door latch and lock, she looked at Desi. “What’s the story with him and his father? He told me he hasn’t spoken to him since he was seventeen and that his mother died when he was fourteen.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes.” Why was that so significant?

  “He never talks about his mother. Never. Not to anyone.” Desi studied her as though she held some kind of magical power.

  “It seemed like a difficult subject for him.”

  Desi moved with a slow, knowing blink to the island and put his hands on the edge. “Difficult is an understatement. Raith’s mother got sick with a severe case of pneumonia. That’s how she died. His father was an alcoholic and didn’t take care of Raith very well. He wasn’t there for him at all.”

  “He also mentioned that his older brother left a few months after his mother died.”

  Desi nodded. “Raith becomes angry when I say it, but he has terrible abandonment issues.”

  Autumn could see how grief and the lack of love from his father could drive a wedge between them, but would it be enough to shut his father out for the rest of his life?

  “His mother died shortly after she discovered his father was having an affair with one of her close friends,” Desi said. “He blames his father for her death.”

  She’d died of pneumonia. Her resistance must have been down, or she’d had other issues going on to lower her immunity.

  “Did his mother drink?”

  “Raith has never called her an alcoholic, but I suspect she did drink more than he likes to reveal. And I also suspect Raith’s father was having affairs long before the one she finally confronted him with.”

  “What happened when she confronted him?”

  “He denied it and she didn’t press him any further.”

  And bottling up all that emotion had led to her death, according to Raith. “That’s so sad.”

  “Yes. For Raith’s mother and for him.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Autumn was unusually quiet as Desi drove them to the airport. She looked out the window as if she was deep in thought. A couple of times he’d watched Desi in the rearview mirror. How much had he told her? Nothing about his work. Raith trusted him with his life in that regard, but when it came to personal matters and matchmaking, Desi couldn’t resist intervention.

  When Desi drove to a stop in front of the passenger drop-off area, Raith got out and retrieved his and Autumn’s luggage, which were both carry-ons.

  Wearing black-and-white leopard-print stockings that drew the eye to her slender hips and thighs, frivolous black high heels and a flowing black shirt that stopped just below her waist, she took the handle of her bag. When he’d first seen her this morning he’d had to stop himself from choking on coffee. “I hope you packed more sensible clothes.”

  She looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”

  “Great for indoor activities, but not much help if you have to run for your life.”

  Her head jerked back a fraction. “I’m going to have to run for my life?”

  He didn’t answer. She knew what he was talking about. She was just being sarcastic.

  “I’ll call you with the return-flight information,” he said to Desi. He and Autumn had open-ended tickets.

  Desi nodded. “Have a safe trip.”

  Autumn waved with a smile and walked with Raith into the terminal.

  “Has your dad tried to call you again?” Autumn asked.

  What was it about his dad that had her contemplating so much? “No.”

  “Desi told me about your mother. I’m sorry you had to lose her that way.”

  Unloved by her husband. Depressed. Unfulfilled. But loving the man who made her so unhappy. “Part of life.”

  They moved forward in the security line.

  “I mean, losing a mother would be hard on any kid. But not having your father’s support at a time like that? I...I just... I can’t imagine.”

  He wished she’d stop. Why was she delving into this, anyway? Why were his mother’s death and his estranged relationship with his father so important to her?

  “Does your brother keep in contact with your dad?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I doubt it.”

  “Maybe if you talked to him it would help.”

  He looked over at her. She was pretty tall compared to his six-three. Most women he ended up with were shorter. He’d never been with anyone with red hair before. Autumn’s was a soft red and shimmered in the light. Her beauty defused some of his angst that she had to bring this up.

  “Why are you so concerned?” he asked.

  Facing forward in the line, she shrugged. “It’s sad and...so different from the way I grew up.”

  “With normal parents? Didn’t you have challenges being a famous movie producer’s daughter?”

  “Well, yeah, but my parents love each other. And they were always there for us—as much as they could be having eight kids.”

  “You’re lucky, but I don’t have any regrets about not being in contact with my father. It doesn’t matter why he’s trying to contact me after all these years. I don’t care why. And I don’t care about him. He is dead as far as I’m concerned.”

  As they approached the security checkpoint, he saw her doubt. She didn’t believe that he didn’t care.

  A small part of him did care, but he wasn’t fooled when it came to his father. Nothing he had to say would change the damage he’d done. It wouldn’t bring Raith’s mother back, and it wouldn’t make the way his father had treated her and his kids forgivable. Raith would never forgive his father.

  On the way to the gate, Autumn fell into another period of consternation. Her somberness didn’t seem to match her sympathy for his years in a broken home.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  Her head snapped up and over, and her green eyes met his briefly. “No.”

  As he walked beside her and observed her profile, he grew certain her answer wasn’t an honest one.

  Chapter 6

  Kamira Marshall lived in an apartment building with tan-wood lap siding. Not the grandest in Houston but not the worst, either. Autumn was still uneasy over her changing perception of Raith. Compassion had offered some insight into the reasons he’d chosen such an atypical career, but was she prepared to tell him about her pregnancy? Doing so would link her to him if he intended to be part of the child’s life, whether they ended up together or not. Having a baby with him made her feel trapped. He debatably had a moral heart. He had a controversial, violent profession. He was essentially a gun-for-hire. Not the ideal father figure. And then there was the whole issue of how she felt about settling down. She had an urge to run. Get away from him and any possibility of tying her down.

  A tiny internal voice whispered, What if he would make a good father? What if he settled down with her and shared the responsibility of raising a child? What if it worked out for them? A secret spot inside of her tickled with hope. But that spot had to be tamed into submission. Her sometimes-public life opposed his secret one. If he wasn’t willing to make drastic changes, letting her heart rule her head was dangerous.

  Autumn had always prided herself on being open-minded. It went along with her sense of adventure and spontaneity. She’d never expected to meet a man like Raith. She couldn’t afford to be open-minded with him. He would have to turn his life upside down the way hers was going to be turned upside down as soon as the baby was born, and she didn’t see him doing that.

  Kamira opened her apartment door, which had an entry to the outside. An average-size woman with light brown hair and eyes, she had blotchy skin and was dressed in jeans and a football T-shirt with an unbuttoned shirt over that.

  “Kamira Marshall?” Raith asked.

  “Yes?” she said warily.

  “We’re here to ask you some questions about your brother, Leaman Marshall.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Raith De Matteis and this is my girlfriend, Autumn. We’re here trying to locate an associate of Leaman’s.”

 

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