My voice chokes off, not quite a sob.
“You’re okay, duchess,” he whispers.
“Dad? What’s wrong?” Dan whispers cautiously from behind us.
Kane eyes me, and I suck in a breath. The keys are clenched between my fingers now like little blades, just like Ethan taught me years ago.
I guess it’s an old habit after years of doing that on late nights in New York City parking garages or outside at night when I’m at the curb, waiting for a lift.
I’m not helpless.
If push comes to shove, Icandefend myself.
I can even protect his kids.
Kane must reach the same conclusion. He nods curtly.
“Stay with them,” he tells me, then looks behind him, ushering the kids into the house and shutting the front door behind us. “Dan, Soph, hang out with Margot while I check the house.”
“Daddy?” Sophie’s voice is high and unsure.
She’s seen the plate.
“We’ll be just fine, kidlet,” he says, casting a fierce look over his shoulder. “Margot has you guys covered. Stay put.”
I nod back at him, wishing I had his intense confidence.
For their sake, I’ll find it again.
For a second, I panicked, but these adorable children give me good reason to harden up.
Ineedto keep it together.
“We’re cool, guys,” I whisper, holding out my arm and pulling Sophie closer. “Kane, be careful… okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. Odds are we’re alone,” Kane says sharply, already stalking through the great room, scanning every corner.
Sophie wraps her thin arms around my waist, but Dan tries to follow his dad.
“I’ll come too. Backup,” he announces.
“No!” I catch his arm. “Dan, I know it sucks, dude. But your dad asked us to stay here. It’s better to have strength in numbers, right? Plus, we can use an extra strong man around while Kane checks things out up there.”
“Yeah,” he says with a determined look. “I guess you’re right.”
Thank God.
I’m glad it’s easy to flatter a little boy’s ego.
We huddle awkwardly in the kitchen, pressed up together near the island.
Dan doesn’t want to admit he’s worried, but his silence says everything.
Meanwhile, Kane prowls through the house, a wall of bristling muscle with the lightest footsteps.
What did he do overseas, anyway?
Wherever he learned to charge into danger, I’m grateful.
