Page 61 of My Beautiful Sin

He shakes his head “Nope. Cooks clean their own messes.”

“Do they?”

“But you can help. And then we can share the shower. Conserve water. Save the planet.”

I grin, then bite my lower lip in anticipation of shower time. “You know what? I think that sounds like a very good plan.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Devlin moved on autopilot on the way to the office, his frustration growing and his good mood fading as he thought about the conversation he needed to have with Anna.

Surely, it wasn’t true. Surely, he was wrong. Surely, he was crafting wild scenarios in his head.

Too bad he knew better.

Devlin wasn’t the kind of man whose instincts tended to be off target. If he was spinning scenarios, it was because they were likely true and he’d missed seeing them.

He didn’t like being wrong—who did? But with Devlin, his instincts were so rarely off that when he did miss something, it grated like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Today, however, he hoped he’d missed the mark by a mile. Because if the story he’d spun in his head was right…

He let the thought drift away as he pushed through the main door of the Devlin Saint Foundation.

“Good morning, Mr. S—”

“Where’s Anna?”

Paul’s eyes widened, but the young man didn’t falter. “At her desk, sir, as far as I know.”

“Thanks,” Devlin said, wanting to kick himself for taking his mood out on his receptionist. “And good morning, Paul. Sorry for being short. It’s going to be a busy day.”

“Yes, sir. No problem, sir.”

He kept walking, feeling Paul’s eyes on his back as he climbed the four flights of stairs to his office. As Paul had said, Anna was at her desk, and she looked up in surprise when he reached the landing.

“You walked up? What? Did you skip your workout this morning?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. My office,” he said, heading for the doors that were opening like magic for him. “Now.”

She hurried in after him. “What’s going on?” Her voice followed him. “You’re supposed to be in Vegas. Did something—”

He rounded on her. “Were you fucking Peter White?”

She hesitated, her eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

It wasn’t a denial, and as far as Devlin was concerned, that was answer enough.

“Oh, Christ,” he said, then rubbed his fingers against his temple against the start of a pounding headache.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the electronic whoosh of his office doors closing. Then he heard that final snick of the doors shutting, and it was as if that sound was a signal.

“Tell me,” he demanded as Anna shook her head.

“Devlin, come on. Where is this coming from?”

That was twice she hadn’t denied.

“I’m serious,” she pressed. “This is coming out of nowhere.”