Page 30 of Vicious Temptation

This was always the assignment. I’m supposed to get close, gain her trust, and take whatever she’s willing to give me so I can get what I need. Kissing her was never part of the plan, and wanting to do it again sure as hell wasn’t either.

“Who is that?” I ask, finally forcing myself to move as I start packing up my own gear.

“Family.” She throws the bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

And just like that, I’m being dismissed.

“Wait, Remi.”

She turns back to me, but before I can figure out what the hell I’m trying to stop her for, another voice cuts through the room.

“Everything all right, Rem?”

A man steps inside with a little girl, maybe five or six, trailing behind him. The guy is tall, damn near eye level with me, which doesn’t happen often. He looks younger than I expected, but there’s nothing uncertain about the way he assesses me before his attention shifts back to Remi.

I recognize the protectiveness immediately. What I don’t recognize is the ugly twist in my gut when I look at him.

“Of course,” she says, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Then the little girl spots her. “Remi!”

Whatever tension was left in Remi’s body disappears as the kid races toward her, and she bends just in time to catch her.

“Hey, menace. How was school today?”

She huffs out an exaggerated breath, her little shoulders sagging. “They sent me home.”

Remi kneels in front of her and tips her chin up. “Again, baby?”

The girl shrugs, sending a head full of caramel-colored curls bouncing forward. “They just don’t understand me, Remi.”

I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve interacted with a kid in the last ten years that wasn’t job-related. Back in Texas, it was mostly me, my aunt, and a handful of cousins my age. We all went our separate ways once we reached adulthood, and my Aunt Priscilla is the only one I still keep in touch with.

I don’t know who got married or had kids. I don’t even know where most of them live anymore.

Watching Remi with this little girl affects me more than I expected. I’ve spent the last several weeks reading about the Cains and everyone connected to them, and the files only paint a bloody picture of assassins for hire.

None of that prepared me for this.

The little girl looks at Remi like she hung the fucking moon, and from the way Remi smiles back at her, the feeling clearly goes both ways.

I lift my gaze to the man still standing near the door, watching us. He’s dressed as if he stepped off a plane from Europe, all tailored clothes and Italian leather. His eyes, two different colors, don’t waver from mine. Neither does his stance. There’s a confidence to him that feels older than it should. I could be wrong, but he looks too young to be the girl’s father. Maybe her brother.

“Who’s he?” the girl asks, looking up at me with a bright smile.

I can’t help but return it. She’s about the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

“That’s Thiago. He was just leaving.”

“Thiago,” she repeats. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No, Zara. He’s just a guest.”

“Oh.” Her gaze shifts back to Remi. “Do you kiss all your guests on the lips?”

Remi’s eyes widen before shooting toward the man by the door, who hasn’t moved. His shoulders are rigid, and whatever suspicion was in his expression before is nothing compared to the way he’s looking at me now.

And I wonder exactly who he is to Remi. Before I can think better of it, I close some of the distance between us as Remi straightens.