Not My Daughter: A completely addictive and totally gripping psychological thriller by Evonne Wareham

Author:Evonne Wareham [Wareham, Evonne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Choc Lit Psychological Thrillers, Suspense and Crime: A Joffe Books Company
Published: 2024-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Her hair clean and dried, Kaz sat down on the bed, wondering where Devlin was. She shifted uneasily. Could he have taken off again? There was nothing at all of him here. The few articles scattered around the room were hers. Devlin had turned up yesterday and they’d spent the night in the place he’d found near the vineyard. He’d never even been in this room.

She gathered her knees up under her chin, rocking slowly, gradually relaxing. She didn’t have to worry about it. Her mouth curved slightly. She’d forced herself not to be reliant, not to expect anything. And then, when she needed him, there was Devlin.

He’d just been there. Waiting outside the police station, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Even when he’d left her before, and gone back to the States, he’d been putting all that information together. About Jeff.

She shivered. She wasn’t going to think about that now. Or analyse what it meant that Devlin had come for her. She would simply be grateful that he had. It didn’t have to mean anything at all.

When she’d recognised him outside the Questura and realised she didn’t have to go out alone to a grave site in the corner of a quiet field . . .

Her lower lip quivered. She controlled it ruthlessly. She couldn’t look back, and she wasn’t ready to look forward. All she could do, for the present, was be. Minute by minute. She stared into space, watching dust motes dance in a column of sunshine, slanting in from the window.

* * *

Devlin’s knock made her start. She slid off the bed and went to the door. He looked pale, eyes smoky. The line between his brows was more deeply etched. She put out her hand to draw him in. Pushing the door closed, she raised her arms to his neck, resting her head against his chest. They stood like that for a while. Then Devlin stroked his hands down her back.

‘We have a couple of hours yet, before we have to get to the airport. Do you want . . .’ His voice faded. She could feel him holding himself together. Puzzled, she ran her hand over his chest, probing the tension of muscles held rigidly under control.

‘I want whatever you want,’ she said cautiously.

‘Right. Good.’ The way his breath exhaled made his chest rumble under her ear. She snuggled in, inhaling him, comforted, content to stay, until something happened. They could both just be, for a while.

* * *

Devlin dipped his head, nuzzling his face into her hair. She was warm and real and she had nothing to do with pictures of tortured flesh. He shifted to hold her more tightly. He’d been out of it too long. Once he’d been able to wade through that sort of crap without being touched. But this . . .

Mothers, and children. Lost children.

He thought of his own mother, then stopped. No need to go there.

‘What is it?’ Kaz must have sensed a change in him.

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