Adrian frowned at this unexpected news. Though he’d already held her in high esteem, he hadn’t expected her to take an interest in the boy. “What do you think of her?” he asked pensively.
Fiona gave him an amused look. “She’s beautiful, and she seems kind. Smart, too. I don’t think she’ll betray us. She cares too much for the boy.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, relief sweeping through him. “I feared I’d made a mistake.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to spread the load a little,” Fiona told him, an old argument. “There are lots of people who’d be willing to help you with this, if you’d just let them.”
“I have you,” he reminded her, afraid to think too much about what Vanessa’s visits meant, afraid to hope she might be everything she seemed.
“That you do.” Fiona gave a bright, tinkling laugh. “I suppose the two of us can muck along alone. We’ve been doing it for a long time now, haven’t we?”
“We have.” He handed her a stack of cash, pushing all thoughts of Vanessa to the back of his mind. “Here’s next month’s expenses.”
Fiona took the money with barely disguised relief. What a little bean counter she was. He provided plenty of funds to keep the house running, but she believed so passionately in what they were doing, and she was always afraid the well would run dry. He knew she worried that one day he’d be caught, and the funding would stop, even though he’d assured her that he’d made provisions for Brookhaven to continue, no matter what happened to him. His brothers contributed to this venture, though not as actively as he did, and they would never let it go under.
Unfortunately, Fiona had very little experience with men who kept their word.
“Well, I think I’ll check in on our new arrival and then go home. I’ve been strictly forbidden to jump across rooftops for a few days, so it may be a while before you see me.”
“Take care of yourself,” Fiona said softly, as he turned toward the door. “There are a lot of people counting on you.”
Her words created familiar tension within him. So many people counting on this charade. So many unfortunates still to rescue. For every one he saved, thousands continued to endure lives of slavery and pain. He couldn’t stop, no matter how dangerous it became.
“He won’t talk,” Fiona called, as he stepped out into the hall. “We don’t know his name.”
He paused and glanced back, noticing that she was already back to her ledgers. “Get some sleep, Fi. That’s an order.”
She gave him a sheepish glance, but he continued staring at her until she shut the book and stood up. “All right. I’m going.”
“Good girl,” he muttered, as he headed toward the stairs. Fiona was only twenty-three. She shouldn’t be saddled with so much responsibility, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved the children, and they loved her.
Once he reached the top floor, he moved quietly down the hall, looking in each open door, loving the soft chorus of snores. They slept four to a room, but the rooms were snug and warm, the beds clean and comfortable. He stopped at the last room on the right, where the youngest boys were housed. His most recent rescue slept peacefully in one of the beds, his inky hair a striking contrast to the crisp white pillow.
Adrian stared down at the boy for a long moment, letting deep satisfaction well within him. This was why he did it. So children like this one could have a childhood filled with good memories that would hopefully wipe out the darkness that came before.
* * * *
ADRIAN SLID OPEN VANESSA’Sthird-floor window, grimacing at the strain on his injured leg as he quietly swung through. He’d meant to go straight home after leaving Brookhaven, but he’d found himself coming here again instead.
He couldn’t stop thinking about what Fiona had said. Why hadn’t Vanessa simply dropped the boy off and gone back to her glamorous life? Why would a woman like her spend hours playing with children at an orphanage? He needed to find the answer to that question. He had to see her again.
Smoothing his hand over the mask, he made sure it was still in place. As long as he wore it he could be himself, without feeling self-conscious. For the first time in his life, he had the opportunity to interact with a beautiful woman without the distraction of his scars.
He stood for a moment just inside the window, letting his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness, listening for the sound of Vanessa’s soft breathing. When he determined that she was indeed in the room, he crossed the heavy carpet to her side. The bedclothes rustled as she suddenly scrambled to a sitting position.
“Don’t be afraid,” he hastened to reassure her. “It’s just me.”
“Just you?” She gave a soft, incredulous laugh. “By that you mean, ‘just the masked villain who already broke into my room and scared me to death once before’?”
A smile curved his lips at her sassy tone. The girl had spunk; he’d give her that. And it felt good to smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done so out of genuine pleasure. “Yes,” he murmured. “Just that masked villain.”
“Why did you come back?” Despite her attempted bravery, a trace of apprehension laced her voice, and guilt surged through him.
“I’ll leave if you wish. I just... wanted to see you again.”
Silence fell between them, and his heart sank. Of course, she didn’t want him here. He’d been a fool to think she’d welcome him back with the same sweet passion she’d shown before. He spun on his heels, heading back the way he’d come.
“How is your leg?”
