Hottest Mess (S.I.N. #2)

“I—um.” I struggle to answer, not really certain how to act in this situation. As I’m fumbling, Dallas comes in through the open door. He’s carrying two mugs, and he didn’t bother with a tray.

“Thanks,” I say wryly. “But you’re a little late.”

His eyes meet mine, and I honestly can’t tell if that’s an apology or amusement coloring his expression. Probably a little of both.

“I didn’t intend to disturb you so early,” Archie says smoothly. “But you have a guest. Mr. Martin.”

He’s looking at Dallas, but I’m the one who replies. “Mr. Martin? Bill? My Bill?”

“Yours?” Dallas says sharply, then looks as though he wishes he’d bitten his tongue instead.

“Miss Jane’s ex-husband, yes,” Archie says.

“Oh,” I say, peering around the room for clothes, then remembering they are across the hall in the study. And mostly ruined. Thankfully, I’d ordered a few things on line during our four days of bliss—including my now-destroyed skirt—and that new wardrobe is downstairs in my old bedroom. “Well, I just need to get dressed and—”

“He’s here to see Dallas, actually. I’ve put him in the first floor den,” he adds. “With coffee and orange juice.”

“Right. Well, I’ll go see what he wants,” Dallas says, looking as though he’d rather do anything but.

As I watch, he pulls on a pair of khakis that Archie hands him from the closet, then matches them with a loose knit shirt and loafers. He’s gone from looking like he just woke up to someone who could model for GQ in approximately twelve seconds. And when he takes the next step and smooths his sex-mussed hair, then rolls back his shoulders and stands tall, he looks like a man who could run an empire.

My man, I think, and hug the little nugget of pride close even as a disturbing question occurs to me. “Why is he here? Do you think he’s found out about—” I’m looking at Dallas, but I don’t finish the question because it occurs to me that I have absolutely no idea if Archie knows about Deliverance. But I’m terrified that Bill has come on behalf of WORR—the World Organization for Rescue and Rehabilitation.

It’s a group with a mission I believe in—assisting government agencies in the rescue of kidnap victims. But it has another purpose, too, and that’s to locate and shut down vigilante groups. A former assistant United States attorney, Bill is one of the top people at WORR. And Deliverance is very much on his radar.

“If that’s why he’s here, we’ll deal. But I’m going to start with the assumption that this is family business.” His gaze cuts toward me. “After all, the man used to be my brother-in-law.”

I scowl, not liking that reminder.

He heads for the door, pausing long enough to glance at me, his smile thin but reassuring. Then he’s out the door and out of sight.

I expect Archie to leave. I hope he will, actually, because I really want to get out of this bed and get dressed.

But he’s not going anywhere, and I’m pretty sure I know why.

“We’ve shocked you,” I say.

His mouth curves just slightly, making the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepen and softening his usually dour, professional expression. “No, Miss Jane. At least not in the way you mean.”

“ ‘Not in the way I mean’? I don’t understand.”

“Deliverance,” he says flatly, and my eyes go wide. “I’m surprised he told you.”

I think back on the conversation. “How do you know he did?”

“Because you’re worried that your Mr. Martin is here to interrogate him. That he’s learned that Dallas created Deliverance, and that he’s on a mission to bring him down.”

“Well, yeah,” I admit. “That about sums it up.” I consider him thoughtfully. “I guess I should have assumed that you’d know. You know pretty much everything that goes on in this house.”

“I do indeed.” This time, I don’t have to search to see that he’s amused. It’s all over his face. “Surely you didn’t think that I find job satisfaction in throwing decadent parties for a useless playboy.”

“I—no.” I frown, remembering. I’ve seen the pride on Archie’s face when he looks at Dallas, heard it in his voice. But Archie isn’t the kind of man who would be pleased by the lifestyle that Dallas projects. On the contrary, he helped raise us, and I know he feels proprietary about us. A wasted life isn’t something he would be happy about.

“And Mrs. Foster?” I ask, referring to Liam’s mother.

“She knows about Deliverance. Dallas and Liam decided early on that it made sense to tell her. She supports it, though she doesn’t work for it.”

“And you do.”

“As much as I’m able.”

I exhale loudly. “So many secrets …”

“But fewer today than yesterday, Miss Jane.”

“You call Dallas and Liam by their names. Why am I Miss Jane?”

“Because I’m an old man set in my ways.”

I actually snort. “Not hardly.”

He chuckles. “I’ll let you get dressed now. Shall I pour first?”

It takes me a minute to realize he means the coffee. I’ve managed to wake up just fine without a single cup. “I’ll get it myself in a bit.”