“Finding Vivienne?” He balled his fists at his sides
and looked away. His head throbbed over her risky search. He made the mistake
of meeting her gaze. The look on her face pleaded for understanding. Her
persistence overpowered his energy to stop her.
“She’s in danger.” The hopeful woman gazed up at him
with eyes filled with warmth, the kind of down-to-earth warmth he longed to
have wrapped around him.
“The mob hates anti-extortion squads,” he reminded
her.
She waved off his warning. “About tonight,” she said, “Sherlock
and I will sleep on the carpet in your office.”
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