“Oh jeesh. Sorry. I’m Kent Knight. I work with Xander at the BCI—Bureau of Criminal Investigation. We’re handling your case.”
“My case? What case?”
“The investigation.” He paused. “Into your abduction—”
Isleen flinched at the word abduction, and Kent stopped speaking. Uncomfortable silence filled the space until the woman stepped forward.
“I’m Camille, this guy’s sister. I’m not with the Bureau. I’m just here to visit my boyfriend.” She smiled, showing off a mouthful of white teeth that gleamed so brightly they almost glowed blue. “Xander.”
Isleen’s heart went cold, pumping frigid blood through her body. Goose bumps erupted over her skin. She shivered. No, it wasn’t a shiver. She was trembling. She felt as if some prankster had just pulled the chair out from beneath her and she was falling, flailing, trying to catch herself before she splattered onto the ground. Xander has a girlfriend. A girlfriend. A gorgeous girlfriend.
Roweena put her hand on Isleen’s shoulder.
She looked down at her flowing, pale-blue sundress. Row had stocked Isleen’s closet with all kinds of clothes. Isleen had picked out the dress before she got in the shower because she wanted Xander to think she was pretty. But next to this woman, Isleen looked like a child. Camille had a sophistication that Isleen would never possess. How could Xander ever be attracted to her when he had Camille? Was that the real reason for his initial hesitation? He didn’t want to cheat on his girlfriend, but didn’t want to come right out and say it? Or maybe he wanted just to fuck her—his words—and then go back to his girlfriend.
Stupid. She’d been so stupid to think a fairy-tale happily ever after was going to happen to her. Gran had always said, “Loving men makes women messy.” Now Isleen knew what Gran meant.
“Camille. It’s so nice to meet you.” Her lips seemed numb when she spoke, but at least her voice was audible.
“It’s nice meeting you too. I’ve wondered about the woman monopolizing all Xander’s attention.” Her words were spoken in a kind voice, but the woman was looking Isleen up and down as if she were something harmful to be categorized as merely approach-with-caution or skull-and-crossbones deadly.
“He’s all yours now.” Isleen packed her tone with sincerity. Row squeezed her shoulder, and Isleen knew that the old woman wasn’t happy with her words.
The kitchen door flew open, banging into the wall. Xander entered the house, his gaze finding her the moment he crossed the threshold, but she looked away. The sight of him was a pummeling her heart couldn’t withstand.
“Camille, what are you doing here?” Shock sharpened Xander’s voice.
“Busted,” Isleen whispered, finally looking back at Xander. Row tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Xander thought he could get away with playing around with her, while he had a girlfriend on the side? Not going to happen.
“Hey, man,” Kent answered, his voice and demeanor too light, not acknowledging Xander’s obvious anger. “I’m going to talk to Isleen while you hang with your girlfriend. And then we need to go over some official business.” Kent turned to Roweena, completely ignoring the way the scars on Xander’s face flamed with rage. “Is there someplace private Isleen and I can talk?”
“How about out on the back porch?” Row pointed to the kitchen door still open. “Only the birds and leaves to hear you out there.”
“Sounds perfect.” Kent shifted the strange bag off his shoulder, carrying it in his hands, and headed in that direction.
Row bent down and whispered in her ear. “Don’t be so mad at Xander. None of this is exactly how it looks.”
Xander’s attention snapped to Row whispering in her ear, then his eyes met hers. Isleen searched his gaze, hoping to see an apology, an explanation, something that would justify this situation, but all she saw was guilt.
Camille sidled up to Xander, pressing herself fully against his body as if she were going to hug him, but Isleen watched the woman’s hand disappear into the space between their hips. Isleen’s eyes jumped back to Xander who still looked at her, not his girlfriend rubbing his crotch. A muscle in his cheek ticked. His eyes went cold.
Isleen strained to pull in enough oxygen to keep herself breathing. Seeing Xander—her savior, her rescuer, her dream man—with another woman hurt more than a fist crushing her heart to pulp.
She tore her gaze away from Xander and Camille’s PDA. On unsteady legs, she stood and moved to follow Kent outside.