“It’s not her—” I break off when I realise the clarification doesn’t matter. Not in this moment when instead of running like she has every reason to, Isabelle is stampeding towards me.
Accepting me.
My heart is full of relief and even as my mind insists it can’t be this easy, she can’t be this perfect, my mouth widens into a smile.
Alice’s eyes darken as they bounce back and forth between us. “What the fuck are you talking about? You haven’t even known each other for a week.”
“Swear,” Sophia says, then chews on her knuckle when her mother’s raging glance comes her way.
“Yes,” I say, giving my daughter’s hair a quick finger comb to break their eye contact. “That’s a gold coin in the swear jar.”
“She’s a suspect in my daughter’s kidnapping for goodness’ sake.”
On top of Meri’s half-hearted accusations, I expect Isabelle to go on the defence. Instead, she lazily raises one shoulder, the world’s least ambitious shrug. “Guess my new hubby will have to keep a close eye on me.” She waggles a finger in my direction. “Never let me out of your sight for a second.”
“For sure. Until we find another culprit, I’ll keep you chained to our bed.”
Sophia wriggles and gives a soft sigh. She mightn’t be old enough to discern the full scope of the banter, but the subtext of our shared affection isn’t lost on her. “Can Mummy come to the wedding?”
“We’ll send her an invite when we set the date. Then we’ll see.”
Sophia sends an optimistic glance at my ex-wife, and I wonder what sort of scenario is playing out in her small head. Sometimes, I wish my grasp of reality were as fluid as hers.
Alice’s eyes glint at me like daggers. “At least now you’ll be able to attend the Petrovic girl’s birthday party together.”
She leans nearer Isabelle and turns up the volume on her gleaming smile, like a lioness already tasting the antelope grazing nearby. “They only allow syndicate or family members.” Her gaze flicks to me for a moment, then back to my fiancée. “We must coordinate our outfits. I wouldn’t want Baxter to dress you the same.”
As she sits back in her chair, loosening one heel to dangle it from her toe, I have an inkling I know which mutual ‘friend’ was the one to pass on the information about the party… and by extension, the abduction. Andrej obviously didn’t think I was paying enough attention.
Meanwhile, Isabelle sits, calmly waiting for someone to fill her in. “Ciprian Petrovic is a colleague,” I explain. “He’s very traditional and his daughter’s coming-of-age party is a big deal. He’s probably announcing her engagement at the same time.”
“What he means is that Ciprian is filthy rich,” snaps Alice. “Nobody is going to pass up the opportunity to kowtow to him even though most of us wouldn’t know his daughter if we ran her over in the street.”
“Sounds fun,” Isabelle says, completely deadpan. “I’ve never been to an office party before.”
Sophia is wriggling again, and I set her on her feet, clasping her hand to keep her by me.
“Don’t you want to come and sit on Mummy’s lap?” Alice asks and when Sophia bows her head instead of answering, I almost feel sorry for the stricken look in her eyes. Almost.
“I’ll send you the summary reports from the field,” I tell her. Edgar will have to pick them clean of anything flammable, but it’ll still give her hours of material to wade through. Then I wince. Not Edgar. He’s gone.
My mind drifts as I try to think of another team member who’ll know what to do without handholding. Antonio is another name that springs to mind, and I bare my teeth. Sophia jerks her hand free of mine and I realise I’ve been squeezing it too hard.
“Sorry, love. Why don’t you go with Yuri to the nursery and let me and Mummy catch up some more?”
“Don’t bother. I’m going.” Alice’s gaze scours the assembled group, searching for easy targets, then she pokes her nose in the air. “And keep those men around my place, will you? It makes me feel better to know someone’s keeping watch.”
In another set of circumstances, I’d think she was trying to double bluff me into removing them, then she rubs behind her ear, her tell for nerves.
“They’ll stay for as long as you need them,” I reassure her. “This should soon be over.”
Probably wishful thinking but saying it aloud to someone else makes it seem more likely to come true.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
BAXTER
I’m late putting Sophia to bed, later still to dinner. A dozen fires cropped up during the afternoon and I had to leave my property to be on hand to douse their flames before they could spread. Mostly distribution issues, and one narrow escape from a serious storage problem, but the increasing regularity of these disruptions makes me wary.
