The Butler's Daughter. Joyce Sullivan

gratefully accepted the steaming cup of fragrant coffee and tried to get her mind to settle on the notion that this would be her everyday life. Having breakfast with her husband and son, though she noticed Hunter’s appetite was as meager as her own. Fortunately, Cort’s babbling eliminated the need for meaningful conversation. After picking at his meal for a few minutes, Hunter excused himself and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Duty calls. Annette is expecting me, and I have a private meeting with the senior management of Ross’s company. Will you be all right here with Cort? The building is secure.”

      “Of course.” She was armed. Without thinking, she smoothed the deep lines bracketing his mouth with her fingers. Her heartbeat stumbled as his eyes met hers. His eyes glowed with pure amusement. Knowing that he was amused by her feeble attempts at playing his loving wife made her fingers tremble. “I have a wedding to plan, remember? And shopping arrangements to make. We’ll be fine.”

      His firm lips formed a sardonic smile beneath her fingertips. “Ah, yes, the shopping. Don’t let it be said that the Sinclair family hasn’t made a meaningful contribution to the economy.”

      Her voice lowered as she placed a lover’s kiss on his cheek. “Be careful. We need you.”

      He drew back. The amusement was gone from his eyes, replaced by an intensity that awakened a slow warmth curling through her belly. “You can reach me on my cell phone.” He grabbed one of Cort’s hands and blew a raspberry into his tiny palm. Cort chortled.

      As Hunter left the room, Juliana’s smile faded, chased away by misgivings. If someone knew she’d been caring for Cort, did that person also know The Guardian’s identity?