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and never the same one twice. He wasn’t going anywhere near the juncture of Daniella’s soft, plump thighs, not even if she wanted him to.
    And she clearly didn’t want him to. The attraction was one way.
    “Open the door,” he said, fighting to keep his tone neutral. Why was she even hesitating? It was just a damn sandwich and some fruit, not a snake or a dead rat.
    She stepped back, drawing the door open. Kane rolled the cart over to the bed and sat down. There was space for her to sit on the bed a few feet away from him on the other end of the cart or she could us the office chair, directly opposite him with the cart between them. She chose the chair, her selection and its implicit rejection of him causing a new level of tightness in Kane’s chest.
    Reminding himself he didn’t want Daniella sitting any closer, he moved a plate and one of the fruit cups toward her, refraining from touching his own food as he waited for her to take a bite. She did, her movements wooden, her gaze darting between the cart and the sleeping Christine, never at him.
    He looked at the crib and realized he hadn’t seen the baby since the ambulance crew took her away. She had been squalling, covered in blood and some kind of placental or amniotic goo, and wrapped in his thousand dollar silk jacket.
    Ignoring his sandwich, he walked over to the crib. Pushing away the sensation of Daniella’s gaze boring into him, he bent over the sleeping baby. Lynn and Daniella shared the same hair coloring, only the half-sister had bleached her long strands to a gaudy platinum. He brushed a thumb softly against the baby’s cheek, not wanting to wake her but hoping, at the same time, to see the color of her eyes. They had been that odd dark blue some infants are born with that darkens to brown over time. Not always, but for some babies.
    Either way, he doubted they’d be gray. According to driving records, Lynn and Ronelle had hazel eyes. Daniella must have taken after her father in that respect, whoever the man was.
    Turning back to the cart, Kane froze as a knock landed at the door. Christine woke. Daniella dropped her sandwich onto the plate and moved toward the crib, her gaze startled.
    “I thought no one could reach this floor?”
    “Reed has the code,” he explained. Overcoming the urge to reach out and give her arm a reassuring squeeze, he shoved his hands in his pocket. “And the people you’re worried about aren’t in the habit of knocking.”
    Fishing his phone from his pocket, he turned the display on, navigated to the camera feed for the front door then showed her Reed mugging it up. She smiled and released an amused snort before bending down to lull the baby back to sleep.
    “Be right back,” he assured her, wincing at the eager tone he could hear in his voice.
    Not eager—necessary, he scolded as he headed down the hall. Lindsey hadn’t secured a safe house and Reed was here to break the news. In the meantime, if Kane didn’t want Daniella heading out on her own, he needed to make nice, try to socialize with her a little bit so she didn’t feel like she was imposing.
    Opening the door, Kane felt his plans crash to the floor as he saw Reed holding a vase full of flowers.
    “Hey, boss,” he said, wearing a broad grin as he swept inside the penthouse. “Where’s Dani?”
    “Where you left her,” Kane answered, his lips almost sealed from the tight clamp of his jaws.
    What was Reed doing calling her “Dani”? Had she told him to? Reed didn’t get chummy with females. Half the staff thought he had a boyfriend hidden away somewhere, the rest thought he was a monk on loan from the Vatican.
    Hands bunching into fists, Kane shoved them in his pockets and followed his subordinate and friend of more than a decade down the hall to where Daniella waited with a genuine smile on her face. Seeing the flowers, her expression brightened a little more.
    “Hey, Dani girl, bad news.”
    Her smile faltered. Hidden inside his pockets,