I’ll be right there,” Rafe calmly told Ro. Ro nodded and headed back down the stairs, but not before giving Claire the evil eye. Rafe closed the door and swept past Claire. He jerked out of his jacket, strode to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. Claire followed, standing in the doorway. Her gaze caught the handle of the gun sticking out of his waistband. Rafe straightened, wiping his face with a towel. He caught her gaze in the mirror. “What?” “I just wanted...” What could she say? I want to know everything about you, Rafael Moreau. What happened to you after your parents died? Why can’t you talk about it? “You want to find your friend or don’t you?” He gestured toward the stairs, and Claire preceded him down to the bar. At the door to his office, she waited for him to enter first before following.
