Sanchez gave a long sigh. “Yeah, right. Anyway, she’ll be happy to stay out of whatever it is we’re going be doing with your lady’s computer.”
“She’s not…” Chay cleared his throat. “Fine.”
“Or she might be able to help. I don’t know what the issue is, but Annie’s working on her master’s degree in psych—”
“She’s a psych major?”
“Was a psych major. Now, she’s going for her master’s. Listen, if this is a problem—”
Chay shut his eyes. Another shrink in his life. Who would have believed it?
“Olivieri. Look, I’ll just come alone.”
“Chayton?”
Chay almost laughed. His very own personal shrink was sitting just behind him, her naked body warm against his back, her breath soft in his ear.
“Bring her,” he said into the phone. “Of course, bring her. I have the feeling it’s gonna be an interesting day.”
• • •
Showers.
One shower, actually. And during it, a fast but wonderfully sweet and sexy morning hello.
Then coffee. Toast. A promise to go out later to buy wine and whatever else they needed or wanted.
And, last of all, most important of all, a short conversation.
Chay took Bianca’s hands in his.
“So,” he said, “here we are. My magic guy is on his way. Will you give me the names and information I need, or am I going to send you off to walk the beach with the woman who’s apparently his girlfriend—an amazing thing in itself, and remind me to explain that later—collecting seashells while Sanchez downloads the stuff on the sly from your computer?”
She blinked. “Wow,” she said softly.
“Yeah. Wow.” He smiled. “I can’t lie to you sweetheart. I mean, I could—but I don’t want to. The thing is, we need answers. And those lists in your computer might just contain them.”
Bianca sighed. “I know. And I’ve been thinking about it.” Another sigh. “Let your friend download everything you want.”
Chay kissed her just as the doorbell rang.
Bianca smoothed back her hair. She knew what came next was all business, but meeting a buddy of Chayton’s was still an event, and it made her nervous.
“Do I look okay?” she whispered.
“You look gorgeous,” he whispered back, kissed the tip of her nose, and opened the door.
Declan Sanchez was tall, like Chay. Leanly muscled, like Chay. He had a killer smile—well, not as much a killer smile as Chay’s, but Bianca could see that it could surely break a few hearts.
Everything else about him was precisely what his name promised.
He had the almost black eyes of a sexy Spaniard and the dark blond hair of an equally sexy Irishman. It was a dazzling combination.
He also had an easy grin.
“Lieutenant Declan Sanchez at your service, m’lady,” he said, with a dramatic, sweeping bow.
Bianca returned the grin. “Bianca Wilde,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you.”