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Color crept into her cheeks again, and he had to stop himself from running his fingers over them. "I'm not very good."

Soren extended his hand. "May I?" She hesitated long enough that he expected another refusal. Instead, she slowly handed him the sketchbook. He opened it. The first page held a rough pencil sketch of the fountain. The next was a sketch of Maria in the kitchen. Another was the front gates along with the security guards and the flowers in the front gardens. He flipped the pages to find a drawing of a coffee mug, his office door, and a few other objects from around his house. Every page captured tiny details. She had picked up shadows, expressions, lighting, and emotions that most people would have missed.

Soren turned another page and his breath caught. It was him standing in the lobby the night before. One arm was wrapped around her as bullets shattered the glass behind them. She'd somehow drawn the exact moment he'd shielded her from danger. His face wasn't cold, and it wasn't ruthless. It was focused entirely on protecting her. Soren stared at the image longer than he intended.

"I told you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm not very good."

He looked up. "Lily." She shifted nervously. "This is exceptional."

She blinked shyly up at him. "You don't have to say that."

"I don't say things I don't mean."

"I've never taken lessons or anything. It’s just a hobby, really.”

"It shows,” he breathed. Her face fell, and Soren almost smiled. "Because talent like this can't be taught."

Confusion gave way to disbelief. "You—like it?"

"I rarely compliment people."

"Oh,” she breathed.

"When I do—” He closed the sketchbook and handed it back. "I mean every word." She accepted it carefully. He could tell that no one had complimented her for a very long time. She held the sketchbook as though it had suddenly become something valuable—as though she had become something valuable.

"Lily."

She looked up.

"I have one request,” he breathed.

"What is it?”

"Don't hide your work."

She laughed softly. "Why?"

"Because the world has already convinced you to hide enough." Silence settled between them until his phone rang again. Soren glanced at the screen, and his expression hardened instantly when he saw Luca’s name.

He answered. "This better be good.”

"Boss—” Luca's voice was grim. "We've got a problem."

Soren's eyes never left Lily. "What happened?"

"The medical examiner called." Soren's stomach tightened. "The autopsy on Collins just came back."

"And?” Soren asked.

"There was a second witness." Every protective instinct inside him roared to life.

"Who is it?” he asked.

"They found another set of fingerprints in the conference room." Soren's gaze sharpened on her. "They don't belong to Lily." Someone else had been in that room—someone who had seen everything. And if Soren couldn't find them first, the men hunting Lily would.

Chapter Six

Lily