He stared at her a moment longer, then turned toward Christina, squaring his little shoulders.
Vanessa watched him go, tears burning her eyes. She’d known him less than a day, yet the fierce concern and protectiveness she felt for the boy stunned her.
“I hope you meant that,” Mrs. Bohannan told her with a sigh. “If you don’t keep your promise, it will make it even harder for him.”
“Of course I meant it,” Vanessa replied, stung, even though she understood the other woman’s concern. Truth be told, she’d made the offer impulsively, but she was determined to see it through. The boy needed her, and she’d never felt needed before.
Mrs. Bohannan returned to her chair. “Well, if you did mean it, you’re more than welcome. You can come and see him any time.”
“Thank you,” Vanessa replied, her respect for this young woman growing with each passing moment. “I’ll see you soon, then.”
“I hope so,” Mrs. Bohannan murmured, her attention already back on her books.
Chapter Three
Adrian stole down Brookhaven’shallway, shaking his head when he saw the light on in Fiona’s office even though it was past midnight. Affection welled deep within him. Fiona had been the first one he’d rescued, and she had a special place in his heart. In the two years since he’d put her in charge of Brookhaven, she’d worked herself to the bone, her commitment to making a difference in the lives of these children even greater than his own, if such a thing was possible.
She’d taken to calling herself Mrs. Bohannan, though she’d never been married, in an attempt to make herself seem older. To him, she’d always be Fi, sixteen years old and sobbing as he rescued her from a house that specialized in men who liked to brutalize women.
Pausing outside her door, he self-consciously adjusted the mask. Foolish, he knew, to trust her with so much, yet keep this one part of himself a secret. It wasn’t as though he feared her reaction to his scars. He’d kept her from learning his identity for purely practical reasons.
If anyone ever made the connection between Prometheus and the school, he wanted her to be able to maintain plausible deniability. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Truth be told, he didn’t think he could bear it if this woman ever looked at him with disgust. Or worse yet... pity.
“Burning the midnight oil again, Fi?” he asked softly as he entered the room.
She shot to her feet and launched herself into his arms, hugging him with surprising strength. “I’ve been so worried about you! Miss Bourke told me you’d been shot.”
He let himself enjoy the rare embrace for a brief moment before stepping away. “I’m fine,” he assured Fiona, settling into the chair that faced her desk. “Took a bullet in the leg, but it’s healing nicely.”
Truthfully, it hurt like the bloody devil. He’d been a fool to venture out tonight, only three days after it had happened, but he’d needed to make sure Miss Bourke hadn’t disappointed him.
Fiona resumed her place behind the desk, shoving aside a stack of ledgers. “I was surprised when you sent the child with Miss Bourke. Wasn’t sure whether to trust her. Perhaps we can work out some sort of password, in case you ever need to do such a thing again.”
“Perhaps.” He hid a smile, knowing how much Fiona loved being a part of the intrigue of his disguise and daring rescues. “In any event, it sounds as though she managed to get the boy here safely?”
Fiona nodded, giving him a considering look. “She’s very lovely. I didn’t take her seriously at first when she said the boy had taken hold of her heart. But she’s come back to visit him every morning since she dropped him off, bringing him toys and clothes.”
