Page 55 of Three Steps Behind

She waited while her eyes adjusted to the dark—no window in sight. There was a desk in the center of the room. A second office. A hidden one. She moved for the laptop, the thick carpet squishing between her toes.

Footsteps sounded on the wooden stairs. Shoot!

She jetted out of the room, pulled the bookcase back into place, and hopped in front of another section of the shelves. The bedroom door creaked open. Her fingers danced along the book spines, the tingle scratching her neck as she pulled an Agatha Christie novel off the shelf.

“There you are, honey,” Dalton said, his gaze scanning the room. “I should have known you’d still be up here.”

Or was he checking up on her? Already suspicious? That didn’t bode well.

“Found it,” she said, holding up And Then There Were None.

“Ah. One of your favorites.” His gaze shot down to her socks balled up on the carpet, and he arched a brow.

She shrugged. “You know my propensity for bare feet.”

He strode over and wrapped her in his arms.

“Even in the winter?” He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“I figured I’d wrap up in a blanket on the couch so they wouldn’t be needed, but I’ll grab them.” She slipped out of his arms and retrieved her fluffy socks.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” He tugged her back into his arms and pressed a long kiss to her lips. She forced her body not to stiffen. She needed to allay suspicion, not give him reason for it.

“Come,” he said, sliding his hand down her arm. “I’ve got the fire stoked for you.”

“Perfect.” She smiled, aching to return to the secret room, but she kept her gaze forward.

They stepped through the doorway, and Dalton turned to shut the door behind him. He noted the door and frowned. “Why’d you have the door closed?”

“Hmm?” She widened her eyes in that doe-like expression she’d mastered.

“The door. You had it shut.”

“Just added privacy.” She started down the stairs. “I suppose the bathroom door was privacy enough, but when you’re dealing with female issues—”

“Say no more.”

She bit back a smirk. Worked every time.

A hundred pages into the book later, Dalton and Miquel reappeared. Her thoughts were still on the secret room, but Bristol hadn’t tempted fate with a second foray to the bedroom.

“I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” Miquel said with a wave.

Great. Miquel was the overseeing manager of Dalton’s restaurants—all six of them. But he spent the majority of his time at Spatina and kept his main office there. That was now one of two places she wouldn’t mind rifling through—though the chances of that were slim. However, slim had never held her back. It’d been a while since she’d been at her old ways, but once a con, always a con. She’d hoped, when she met Dalton, that it wasn’t true. But now that she knew the truth about him, she’d slip right back into that skin.

He’d conned her.

She’d con him back, and she’d start with the secret room and the laptop in it.

Twenty-Two

“SO I’VE GOT TO ASK,” Harper said, shifting to face Deckard better as they drove to Amber Gables Country Club, where Blake Brookes worked.

Curiosity danced in her gaze, and he loved it. So much better than the heartache that had been residing there. “Yes?”

“When you first found out about Greyson and Riley, did you deck him?”

He chuckled, banking right and heading southwest for Santa Fe. “Almost.”