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“Hard? I feel like Benedict Arnold.” Blake shoved aside his food. “If James turns out to be guilty, it’ll destroy my grandfather. Then after that, to find out I betrayed him, too? I’m lucky if it doesn’t kill him.”
“You’re not betraying him.”
“Not in your mind. In his, I’m screwing my family. That’s the ultimate betrayal.” Blake blew out a breath. “Let’s not go there. Not yet. One step at a time.”
Leaning forward, Devon lay her palm against his jaw. ?
?I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m doing what I have to.” He met her gaze. “And tonight, I’m doing what I want to.”
She understood. Tonight was for losing himself. For losing both themselves, in something that felt good and right.
Her expression softened. “Does this mean I’m not getting a chance to polish off my third slice?”
Blake’s hand slid beneath her hair, cupping the nape of her neck and pulling her closer. “You’ll eat it cold.”
THE MAROON COUPE slid slowly by Blake’s apartment.
Inside, the man punched up a number on his cell phone.
“She’s still in there,” he reported. “A hundred bucks says she’s spending the night.”
CHAPTER 23
You have the plan down pat?” Monty demanded as he finished taping the audio transmitter to the small of Devon’s back.
“Down to the last word.” Devon peered down the front of her sweater, checking to make sure the microphone was securely attached to the front clasp of her bra. “Are you sure this will stay put?”
“Positive. Just make sure Golden Boy keeps his hands to himself, and you’ll be home free.” Monty straightened, tugging down the back of Devon’s sweater. “The receiver will be in my car. It has a built-in micro-recorder and incredible audio quality. No matter what room you and Golden Boy are in, I’ll hear every word you say. And if you need me, I’ll come running.”
“I’ll be fine, Monty,” Devon assured him. “James isn’t going to attack me. And I’m not going to give him reason to. I’ll stick to the script. With any luck, we’ll have what we need in a few hours.”
“You’ve become quite the pro.”
Devon knew that tone. Her father wasn’t issuing a compliment.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Only that your social life is certainly hectic these days. Filled with Edward Pierson’s grandsons.”
“That’s the angle you told me to pursue, remember?”
“I don’t remember telling you to make overnight house calls.”
Devon got the message loud and clear. “Where are you going with this, Monty?”
“You spent the night at Blake’s.”
“You’re right. I did. Although I didn’t think you noticed. You were late arriving here this morning.”
He snorted. “Yeah, well, my meeting ran longer than expected. I had to show my client some unpleasant photos. I never thought he’d take it so hard—not when he already knew what his gold-digger wife was doing. I felt like a bastard. The guy crumbled right in front of me. He was popping nitroglycerine pills like they were going out of style.”
“He’s ill?”
“A bad heart. That seems to be the theme of the day.”
“Speaking of which, you still haven’t told me what’s bugging you about Emily Pierson.”
