Page 59 of Hard Wired

Dominic wasn’t sure what to say to that. He was glad Sylvie had a friend like Tanner around her, someone who had the training and the size not to be intimidated by anything. But then again, if Tanner were an even better friend, he never would’ve let Sylvie come over here in the first place.

“But if you hurt her, in any possible way, then there will be a problem. Just so we’re clear,” Tanner added, matter-of-factly. Then he ambled over to the bathroom.

Dominic went back to the kitchen, forcing himself not to look at Sylvie’s laptop bag along the way.

Sylvie and Maureen stood beside the stove, chopping fragrant vegetables. “The foundations are the holy trinity—that’s onion, bell pepper, celery—and the roux. You’ve got to get it nice and dark, but not burned.”

Sylvie turned and smiled at him. Immediately, he felt like a monster for the thoughts he’d been having, the temptation to take advantage of her visit.

She’d come here to see him. Against all odds, she actually seemed to like him.

When was the last time he’d met someone like her? Someone intelligent and thoughtful and down-to-earth, who gave him a hard time when he deserved it and yet was so sincere? Who was beautiful outside and within?

His last girlfriend had been the exact opposite. Vapid, shallow, interested in how Dominic looked on the outside and what he could provide for her in terms of status and sex and money. Lots of people had wanted him for those reasons. But being attractive was essentially meaningless, a chance of fate. Same with having the “Crane” last name. It was all just genetics, not really him.

Dominic was pretty sure Sylvie liked him for the small pieces of his true self he’d been able to show her.

Well, okay. She was here for his body and the promise of sex, too. He was well aware of that. She thought he could help her with her orgasm problem. And he was perfectly willing to try. But in exchange, she was sharing a part of herself with him.

He’d forget about that flash drive. It wasn’t going to happen. He exhaled, glad the issue was settled in his mind.

“Need any help?” Dominic asked, joining the ladies in the kitchen.

Maureen waved a spoon at him. “Oh no, keep him away. That man is a menace around a stove top.”

“That’s not true. I’m helpful.”

“Au contraire. What about the time you added a tablespoon of cayenne to my jambalaya instead of paprika?”

“They’re both red.”

“Nearly singed my nose hairs clean off.”

Sylvie giggled. Dominic slid his arm around her waist and kissed her head. Maureen lifted a brow at them. “None of that in my kitchen, either. You’re liable to knock over the flour canister like that other time. I thought it had snowed indoors in July.”

Sylvie looked up at him. “What other time?”

Dominic steered her toward the balcony instead. “Nothing you’d want to hear about.” He didn’t want to talk about ex-girlfriends with her.

Not that Sylvie had interest in being his girlfriend. He was in no position to be seeing anyone seriously, and she’d be a fool to want anything serious with him. Sylvie was no fool.

They were having fun. Enjoying one another. Maybe they were even friends. But it couldn’t be more.

He slid open the glass patio door. The sky was full of color, oranges and reds and pinks. The ocean reflected the sun in fragments, spreading the sunset across the surface of the water.

“This is a nice place,” Sylvie said. “I’m guessing most people under house arrest don’t have such a sweet view.”

“Probably not. But I doubt I’ll have it for long.”

She looked at him sharply. “Why? What’s going on?”

Damn. He hadn’t meant to bring this up. “Just family stuff. I don’t actually own this house. The Crane family trust does. And according to rumors, they’re thinking about cutting me off.”

He wondered if there was harm in mentioning his uncle. He knew the Syndicate couldn’t be listening. Dominic had an electronic detector to find listening bugs, and he did regular sweeps of the house. His uncle had to resort to using the cameras in the security system to spy on him, but there were none out here.

“My Uncle Charles took charge of the family business. The Syndicate,” he forced himself to say. He wanted to be honest with her.

“And he’s cutting you off? Do you think he’s the one who sent those people after you?”

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