She’d had to leave before she punched someone after she heard Matthew claiming he didn’t know why his father wanted a yacht. Unlike Nick, KK’s brotherknewLucia wasn’t waiting on the ship. He couldn’t be stupid enough to believe his father simply wanted to take kids on a midnight joy ride.
Pris couldn’t suppress that much rage or it would give her headaches for a year—or she’d learn to mentally attack evil minds and become as immoral as Vincent. Walking out was safest.
She’d left Evie blithely claiming that Matt had confessed to killing Lucia, and Vincent to killing KK. Her cousin had a habit of spinning heads until everyone probably believed the words of a ghost.
At Evie’s house, Pris took the children into bed with her so they couldn’t escape again without her knowledge. Dante woke her by climbing in on the other side a little later. The twins woke enough to seek body heat and one curled up in each of their arms and fell asleep again.
Unable to reach over and kiss the unshaven, weary man in her bed, Pris kissed Nan’s curly head instead. “Everything all right?” she whispered.
“For us, fine.” He sounded exhausted and disgusted and just a little bit triumphant. “I don’t think it will go well for Matt and Vincent, who are confusing their conflicting stories so badly that the truth may never emerge. The Italian police are closing in on Lucia’s farm as we speak. Not sure about Leo yet, but stolen artifacts are involved, and he’s the likely source. Go back to sleep.” He tucked Alex under him.
With a greater reach than hers, he leaned over to kiss Pris’s forehead much as she’d kissed his daughter’s. She wanted to believe it meant more than gratefulness.
They both needed the reassurance of normality and safety right now. The morning would be soon enough to work out everything else.
But watching the crippled professor tear apart kidnappers and murderers had been a mind-bending experience. And a heart-rending one. She’d have to go back to calling him Indiana Jones just to keep her perspective. She badly needed to more than kiss him. Damned good thing the kids were between them.
They might have slept through Loretta clattering down the stairs on her way to school, but the twins didn’t. The instant both squiggly little bodies departed the bed, Pris woke to find Dante watching her hungrily through drowsy eyes. Lust heated her insides. Thank the goddesses, they were fully clothed.
“Go back to sleep,” he murmured. “I will go after them.”
“You climbed the stairs.” Stupid thing to say, but her brain had gone south.
“I had to be certain everyone was safe. I will never take that for granted again.” Looking abashed by this admission, he sat up, easing his leg off the bed.
“We shouldn’t have to live expecting the worst.” She’d never go back to sleep now. “Use my shower. I’ll go down and check on the kids. I’ll bring your duffle up.”
“I don’t want you to wait on me,” he protested. “You have done so much already.”
“Next time I break a leg, you can wait on me.”Next time.She’d just saidnext time,as if there would be such a thing. Shutting down the knifing pain she didn’t understand, Pris escaped.
Downstairs, she found the usual confusion. For reasons only known to them, R&R were parked at the kitchen island instead of in their own homes, although Rube still half-lived in the cellar with his computer equipment. From what she could tell, they were devouring sausages and eggs and debating how to hack the Italian police. She sent Reuben upstairs with Dante’s gear from the guest room off the kitchen.
Evie nibbled at a donut while washing up Loretta’s cereal bowl and filling in Mavis, the usual bearer of donuts, on the evening’s events.
Evie’s eleven-year-old ward swallowed half a fritter and eyed Pris with interest. “Your bubble is growing.”
Pris hoped that was a good thing because she felt lousier than lousy.
Across from Loretta, Alex and Nan kneeled on the banquette in the breakfast nook with milk smeared under their noses and toast soldiers in their fists. They waved their buttery treats and showed her a book—plasticized, thankfully. “Read, Pissy, read!”
Evie almost doubled over suppressing hoots of laughter. Reuben returned in time to hear, and he and Roark pounded the island with their fists, repeating, “Pissy Prissy, pissy Prissy!”
Ignoring the dolts, Pris kissed the twins, promised them she’d read later, and opened the refrigerator.
By the time Dante limped in, using the cane instead of a crutch, she had an omelet ready for the pan and biscuits baking. Evie had whisperedPissyat her a few times before taking Loretta off to school. Her cousin probably wouldn’t let her ward out of her sight until high school after last night.
“Just the man we need to see,” Roark crowed as Dante eased into the booth with his children. “The Italian police aren’t telling us anything, and we don’t speak the lingo.”
Well, that explained their presence.
Once he’d settled in with his coffee, Pris slid the omelet in front of Dante and provided cut-up bits for the twins to pick at. “Careful. They’ll have you hacking police files,” she warned.
“We’re justreadingthem,” Reuben protested. “They sent a report to the sheriff who’s trying to use Google translate with pretty weird results.”
Aunt Mavis, the all-knowing crystal ball reader, had taken the remaining donuts and departed with Evie. Pris set the biscuits on the counter and pointed her fork accusingly. “And youhackedthat report from Troy. He didn’t just give it to you.”
“We’re helping. It’s all good, bébé. We need to know if we should be looking for more Bella shipments. They were using deliveries to the stores here to conceal the artifacts. The US market isn’t watched so much, and they could sell them easier, probably for higher prices.” Roark helped himself to one of the biscuits.
