in America, too.” The anger in Bradley’s eyes reminds me this is a man who went to great lengths to protect his sister. I shouldn’t find that attractive, but I do.
“So, what happened?” he prompts.
“Well, I overheard part of a conversation between Dante and the Duke. A private conversation.”
Bradley arches one dark brow. “What did they say?”
“I didn’t actually hear everything.” Enough. I heard enough to have suspicions. “Anyway, two days later, the brakes failed in the man’s sports car. It could have been a coincidence, I suppose.”
“But it wasn’t.”
It’s not a question, so I don’t bother pretending it is. I look down into my cocoa mug and choose my words with caution. “The Duke was always careful to shield me from details. If it helps, I believe Dante’s skills were only deployed in situations where the justice system failed. Where someone was being hurt or mistreated or abused by people or systems the Duke found…disagreeable.”
“So you’re saying what?” Bradley frowns. “He’s a hitman with a heart of gold?”
The idea of Dante having a heart of any kind is enough to make me laugh. Since laughter isn’t the right response in this situation, I settle for sipping my cocoa. “I don’t fear him, if that’s a concern.” Maybe I should, but I don’t. Not the way Bradley’s thinking, anyway. “I don’t believe Dante—Dan—would harm me.”
He studies my face a moment. “That doesn’t sound entirely convincing.”
“It’s the truth.” Not all of it, but some.
Naturally, Bradley has more questions. “Why is he here?”
“I don’t honestly know.” Another kernel of truth, thank heavens. “The Duke is very protective. Perhaps he’s worried about me?”
It’s possible Bradley hears the dubious note in my voice. “A father who’s worried about his adult daughter comes to visit,” he says slowly. “He doesn’t send a killer to follow her around like a rabid puppy.”
Heat fills my cheeks as I look down into my mug. “I told you last year the Duke isn’t able to get a visa. And my mother—”
“Iz, that’s not what I meant.” The gentleness in his voice makes me look up, and the pity in his eyes makes my eyes well. “I know they had legitimate reasons they couldn’t visit when you had your transplant. All I meant is that it seems a little odd they’d send an armed thug to watch over you.”
“Is it, though?” I glance toward the window that faces Mark’s cabin. “It’s not as though it’s unprecedented for family members to protect other members of the family through whatever means necessary.”
He gives a sharp nod, perhaps thinking about his own sister. “Point taken.”
This feels like a bigger victory than it is. “I’ve been trying to reach my mother on the phone,” I tell him. “I’m planning to ask point blank why Dante is here or what he’s been tasked with. In the meantime, I’m trying not to be too alarmed.”
Trying, but not succeeding. Again, Bradley’s blue eyes bore into me in a way that suggests he knows I’m not wholly truthful.
But he doesn’t know for sure. I don’t know for sure.
And until I do, I need to keep my cards clutched tightly to my chest.
“Any more questions?” I cross my fingers he’ll let it drop. That we can move on and pretend this isn’t a big deal. Maybe it isn’t.
Bradley lifts a brow. “Should I be concerned I’ve invited a professional killer to poker night?”
I watch his face, unsure if the moment calls for gravity or levity. “Only if you cheat.” I smile to let him know I’m kidding, which I absolutely am. “Maybe we shouldn’t use the word hitman. I’m thinking bodyguard might be a more accurate translation?”
He gives me a dubious look. “Is this wishful thinking on your part?”
If only he knew how deep my wishful thinking goes.
“I’m fairly sure ‘bodyguard’ is an accurate translation of his job title,” I point out. “Besides, if he’d wanted to harm anyone here, he’d have done it already.”
“That’s mildly reassuring.” He leans back against the couch. “All right. I do think you should tell your siblings.”
“Tell them what?”
“That one of their resort guests isn’t just here for the golf.”
I nod and try to picture that conversation in my mind. Then I push those thoughts away because I’d rather not deal with it. Just one more reminder that I’m not like them, that I don’t really belong here. “I’ll try to clear things up.”
Studying my face, he shakes his head. “You sure this guy isn’t unhinged?”
“Positive.” Mostly. “I’m sure he’ll be a nice