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and he invited me to dinner.” Wynn braced herself for a bad reaction from Chey. Paavo hadn't earned any respect from Chey after the stunt he'd pulled before the wedding. For a few moments, all she heard was silence down the line.
    “Did you go?” Chey asked.
    “After learning nothing all day, I decided who better to glean information from than Paavo himself? So I went. He offered me a job as his assistant and I took it. Before you explode—let me explain. Being that close to him will allow me to see more of his correspondence and know when or where he has meetings, maybe even with who. I saw it as an opportunity.” Wynn held her breath and hoped Chey would understand what she was trying to do. Once again, a stretch of silence preceded Chey's reply.
    “Wow. I'm not sure what to say. I can't believe he offered you a job, of all people. I guess you're right, though. You should be able to stay on top of what the council is doing and what decisions they're making.” Chey paused, then added, “Oh, and be aware that they like to tap phones. Yours might not be right now, but I'm pretty sure someone will start listening to everything you say.”
    “I'll find another way to communicate. But I wanted you to know why I'm doing this. There isn't a better place, as far as I can see, to be your eyes and ears.” Wynn exhaled in relief. Chey didn't sound angry or even annoyed. She suspected the woman's concern over Sander had a lot to do with her distraction.
    “Just be careful, all right? Whoever is responsible is still at large and I don't think anyone can be sure they won't strike again. Have you heard anything from Mattias?”
    “I'll be careful, you can count on it. No, I can't get through and he hasn't called back. No one else has heard from him either, that I can tell. He's off the grid,” Wynn said.
    “Okay. Keep trying. The sooner he gets back, the better I'll feel. When do you start work?”
    “Tomorrow morning. I'm going to get some sleep so I can be up early and get started. Somehow, I'll get ahold of you and check in. Hopefully without a trace.”
    “All right, Wynn. Talk to you tomorrow.”
    “Night, Chey. You're both in my thoughts.” Wynn severed the call. She stared down at the cell phone, tapping the side with a finger. Thoughtful.
    Finally, she set it down and went to the closet, prepared to choose an outfit for her first day at work. All the while, she revisited the dinner with Paavo. Remembering the dimple in his cheek, the striking color of his eyes. The self-assured way he lounged while they talked. She tried to analyze his actions, his interest, his motives in an effort to take her mind off the physical attributes that continued to distract her.
     
    . . .
     
    Chey rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. The phone call from Wynn threatened to make the headache she'd been dealing with all day worse.
    He offered me a job as his assistant, and I took it. Chey saw all sorts of disasters happening from the situation, not the least of Wynn putting herself in a dangerous spot being so close to Paavo. If someone was trying to take out the royal family, that put Wynn right smack in the crosshairs. She was right about one thing, though; gathering information should be a lot easier when she was actually in the lion's den rather than sniffing around outside.
    Folding her arms on the side of Sander's bed, Chey stared at his face, willing him to wake up. Earlier in the day, she'd put her foot down with a few of the nurses, refusing to allow anyone to sponge him clean except herself. Chey had taken the lead, meticulously washing him head to toe. It was quite a job lifting legs that were dead weight, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She'd even managed to wash his hair, working around the bandages to get any remaining dried blood out. Chey thought maybe the manipulation of his limbs would help pull him out of the coma.
    Now it was night time, and still, no change. No movement, no flicker of his eyelids.