Page 4 of Devil
“Thank you,” she said, taking it. The young man smiled and carried on toward the restaurant. She looped the wrap around the strap of her bag, checked to make sure it wouldn’t fall again, then started to leave. Only she hesitated.
The man sitting alone at the bar was watching her. The porter had drawn attention to her, but something in his steady gaze was, well, not exactly unnerving, but not casual, either. Quickly she cataloged him. He looked to be six foot two or three, and his well-muscled arms were visible in his soft cotton T-shirt. His jeans were well-worn and molded to his legs, and on his feet, he wore a pair of black Adidas. Switching her attention to his face, she realized he was an attractive man, not like a movie star, but in a veryrealway. Light brown eyes were set against deep brown skin. His jaw was square and maybe a little stubborn. And he had the smallest amount of facial hair—more than a five o’clock shadow, but not quite a beard. His short black hair held a hint of gray at the temples and curled tightly against his head.
Focusing her gaze on his eyes—eyes that were still watching her—Devil considered if maybe her night was about to take an interesting turn. She didn’t usually meet men in bars, but there was a first time for everything. Besides, she could more than take care of herself if something went wrong.
She was about to make the first move—a small smile and a step toward him—when he surprised her. He didn’t give her a look of invitation. He didn’t smile or rise or make any move toward her.
No, as if dismissing her like a gnat, he flickered his gaze back to the baseball game playing on the television and took a sip of his beer.
Devil waited a beat to see if he’d turn back around. When it was obvious that he wasn’t going to, she swiveled on her heel and started toward the elevator. She smiled ruefully as she passed through the lounge. It wasn’t often a man dismissed her. Her ego wasn’t too bruised, though. In her thirty-eight years, she’d learned that attraction was a subjective thing. Just because she’d found him attractive didn’t mean the attraction would be reciprocated. That was the way of the world.
Still, as the elevator door closed and she caught one last glimpse of him, his beer still in hand and his attention still focused on the game, she wondered what it would have been like if her night had ended differently.
CHAPTERTWO
Out of thecorner of his eye, Darius watched Dr. Devillier leave the bar. She hadn’t even bothered to tip the bartender. Which surprised him not at all.
Still smarting from being given this assignment, he acknowledged he was probably inclined to judge her more harshly than he usually would. But even so, nothing he’d read, or now seen, had persuaded him away from his initial impressions. Dr. Devillier might be a brilliant researcher and a valuable agent, but there wasn’t much else to like or respect about her.
“You okay?” Darius asked the bartender, a young man whose nametag identified him as Esteban. Esteban had been smiling and chatty until Dr. Devillier said something to him. Darius hadn’t been close enough to hear the conversation, but whatever she’d said had sucked the light from the man’s eyes.
Esteban smiled. “Yeah, I’m good. Can I get you anything?” He nodded to Darius’s near-empty pint of a local ale. Smith House had a small bar, but it had an excellent selection of drinks. Darius had stumbled across the place three nights ago and decided that it stood a good chance of becoming a favorite go-to.
“It looked like she upset you,” Darius continued, jerking his head toward where Dr. Devillier had sat.
Esteban looked confused, then he frowned. “The woman that was sitting there?” he asked, gesturing to the end of the bar. Darius nodded and gave the man props for not giving her name to a stranger. The bartender smiled. “No, she’s amazing. Seriously, one of the most amazing people I know.”
That didn’t jibe with Darius’s impressions or Esteban’s behavior. Maybe the bartender had a crush on the good doctor, and he was willing to overlook a few flaws? “Didn’t bother to tip you, though,” Darius pointed out. He didn’t know why he was pursuing this conversation. There was absolutely no need for him to be discussing Lily Devillier with anyone.
The man laughed. “Believe me, when she or her friends come in, no one on staff worries about getting tipped. Now, can I get you something?”
The comment the spook had made about Lily Devillier not being what he’d expect echoed in Darius’s head. He supposed it was possible, but he hadn’t seen any evidence of it, despite what this kid said. “No, thank you. I have an early day tomorrow.”
He cashed out, and a few minutes later, he was walking to his new apartment. The navy had done well by him, and his new pad was a hell of a lot nicer than his own home. It wasn’t as unique and charming as his waterfront bungalow, but it was twice the size and updated with every modern feature he’d probably never need.
After letting himself into the building, he opted for the stairs rather than the elevator. Once inside his third-floor apartment, he toed off his shoes and walked straight to his bedroom. The safe in the closet held his computer and the sparse file on Dr. Devillier the navy had provided him.
He grabbed both, then wandered back to the kitchen and took a seat at the bistro table in the breakfast nook. Opening the file, he reread it for the umpteenth time.
Dr. Lily Devillier, daughter of An and Li Devillier of Guangzhou. She’d been born and raised there until the age of twelve when she’d left to attend a boarding school in Switzerland. There, she’d met her three best friends—Cyn Steele, Nora Amiri, and Violetta Salvitto.
After finishing school in Switzerland, all four young women had attended Harvard undergrad. Cyn, Violetta, and Lily had continued at Harvard for grad school, earning a PhD, JD, and MD, respectively. Nora had attended the School of Veterinary Medicine at Tufts, where she’d earned her DVM. Like Dr. Devillier, Cyn, Violetta, and Nora came from über-wealthy families—billionaires many times over.
On his first day in Boston, he’d driven up to Cos Cob to see where she lived. He’d pictured a gated modern mansion, but what he’d found was an iconic New England coastal home. The stone building had a deep porch, paned windows, and shutters. It was large, but not any larger than any of the other houses in the neighborhood, and there was no fence or gate at all. Being walking distance from town, it also didn’t have much land, perhaps three-quarters of an acre or so. He was man enough to admit that the well-maintained property was actually very charming and not what he would have expected from a woman of Dr. Devillier’s means.
Professionally, she was a well-regarded researcher with several papers to her name. She focused primarily on running initial drug trials for cancer treatments. Although on occasion, she’d dipped her toe into the world of cell-based research, particularly as it related to discerning why certain drugs performed well in animal, but not human, trials.
Outside of work, she didn’t seem to do much other than spend time with her friends in Cos Cob. He had no intel on her love life, though he knew she wasn’t married or partnered, and she didn’t appear to engage in any volunteer or community work.
Darius closed the file and set it aside. Reaching for the second one, he opened it and delved back into her life. This time, through the eyes of others.
He’d done his own research and even called in a few favors. His contacts had come through and provided him with more personal intel such as copies of her performance reviews and the references she’d needed for various applications, including those for undergrad and graduate school. The file also included more recent intel, including transcripts of interviews with her colleagues from when she’d applied for her current role.
A few of her performance reviews noted that she wasn’t the most personable of people. But Darius had been around long enough to know that the standards for “personable” were different for women than for men. She waspersonable enoughto secure several significant and ongoing grants, though. All in all, it was hard to dispute that she was good at her job—damn good.
Closing the file, he sat back and considered his next step. He’d moved into his new apartment on Tuesday. It was now Thursday. He wouldn’t start work until Monday. He had four more days to explore his new home. Something he found himself looking forward to.
He’d grown up in the South and considered himself a Southern boy. But Boston appealed to him in a way he hadn’t expected. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t anoldcity, but for the United States, it was as old as you could get. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There were a few older settlements on the Eastern Seaboard. But for reasons he couldn’t quite put his finger on, it felt as if centuries of history had seeped into the streets and buildings, and the past wrapped around him as he walked and explored. He still had so much to learn about the city, but something about Boston grounded him, and this new place was settling easily into his soul.
