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When she still hesitated—which was probably more her attempting to process what just happened—Blake knew he needed to drive his point home.

“Listen, Dev. I know upending your whole life again isn’t ideal, but whoever came through that door knew what he was doing. He picked your locks. Beat the chain. Came inside quietly, and when I put my gun on him, he didn’t panic. Instead, he attacked.”

Her face paled, her gaze falling back down to his injured knuckles.

“You really think this is because of what I found?”

“I think we need to consider it.”

“Okay.” Devon sighed. “I’ll go get my things.”

“I’ll wait out here.”

Just in case.

While she left him to pack, Blake looked at the apartment door. Whoever had come here tonight expected the woman who lived here to be alone.

They thought she’d be an easy target.

That they could walk into her apartment, do whatever they’d come to do, and disappear.

But they’d made one hell of a mistake.

He hadn’t planned on me.

CHAPTER SIX

Devon had been inside Blake’s apartment for only a few minutes when she decided the man had been holding out on her.

“This is where you live?”

During their numerous video calls, she’d only seen the back wall of his office, the wall behind his couch, or his pillows and headboard.

Devon was a mover. A fidgeter. Never one to sit still for long.

Blake glanced over his shoulder. “You sound surprised.”

“Uh . . . that’s because I am.”

The apartment was gorgeous. Modern without looking cold or staged. Dark hardwood floors complemented sleek furniture in charcoal and warm brown leather.

But the view was what got her.

Devon moved across the living room to the floor-to-ceiling windows, which revealed a panoramic view of Washington, D.C. Moonlight reflected off the glass and steel of the buildings, and even at the hour, traffic moved steadily along the streets below.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. That view pretty much sold me on the place.”

Devon glanced back as Blake set her suitcase near the hallway to his right. He crouched beside Willow’s carrier. The poor cat had spent much of the flight here expressing her displeasure at a volume Devon hadn’t known she possessed.

Apparently, Willow wasn’t a fan of flying, nor was she impressed by Echo Team’s jet.

I was.

Blake unlatched the carrier. “There you go, you tiny terrorist,” he teased. “You’re free.”

Willow remained exactly where she was.