Larson snorted, glancing over Warrick’s shoulder to where Sienna stood near the door to the house, but was too far away to overhear their conversation. “Yeah, I just bet you do.”
Warrick’s jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. “It’s not like that, Larson. You know I don’t want to screw up in the eyes of the P.I.A.”
“I know that.” Larson’s expression sobered. “You’re a good agent, Donovan. You need to let that shit go. You’re not your father.”
Warrick gave a slight nod, acknowledging the comment without emotion, even as everything inside him went taut and screamed with frustration. No. He wasn’t his father. And thank God for that. Bitterness rose in his throat and he swallowed it, blocking out the sudden memory of his father and the stigma Warrick had been left to fight. A stigma he continued to fight.
The need to prove himself was constant, his ability not to fuck up, something he prided himself on. He couldn’t—wouldn’t start now.
Larson had always been a close friend, they’d known each other even before either of them had enrolled in the agency. Their friendship had only grown tighter as they’d worked together. Warrick respected Larson’s opinion and the authority that he held inside and outside the agency.
Larson shook his head. “I’m not sure we should’ve brought her with us.”
“We couldn’t leave her. You know that. Not with what she’s seen.” Warrick paused. “Or who she is. She’s Kevin Peters’s daughter.”
Larson’s eyes flickered with understanding and a bit of calculation. “Interesting. What was she doing there?”
“She’s an employee of Feloray Laboratories.”
“Hmm. That’s a definite strike against her.”
Warrick’s mouth tightened. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Think she’s involved?”
“I fucking hope not,” he muttered grimly, every muscle in his body tightening with the possibility.
“Warrick?” Sienna stepped toward them, impatience on her face. “I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
Larson jerked his head to the left. “Get her settled. We can learn more in the morning. In the back of the house there’s a room that’s a bit more isolated—you can both share it. It’s the best I can do unless you want to sleep in the barn with the ferals.”
“Yeah, gonna pass on the barn. Thanks, Larson.”
Larson thrust a hand through his hair and shook his head. “No problem. Just get back out here soon.”
“I’ll only need a few minutes.”
Warrick crossed the lawn to where Sienna waited. She looked exhausted now, and still a little uneasy.
He moved to unlock the door and his thigh brushed her hip, which sent her jerking away. His jaw hardened as he pushed open the door and stepped inside, hitting the light switch. The interior flooded with light and he gestured for Sienna to enter first.
The house was simple. Polished hardwood floors. A living room with a couch, a few modern recliners and a flat-screen television. Off to the right was the kitchen with a big oak table in it. Then there were two hallways that he assumed led to the bedrooms.
“Let’s get you settled.” He turned down the hall. “Follow me.”
The soft click of her heels on the wood floor proved she’d obeyed. Though she called out, “Are you always this bossy?”
“You oughta know.”
She just grunted, but didn’t answer.
He continued down the hallway, barely taking in the generic, schlocky wall art. These places were like hotels. Enough comfort and familiarity to put you at ease, but they never really made you feel at home.
When they reached the bedroom, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Damn, Larson had really given him the hookup. Warrick had pretty much resigned himself to sleeping on the floor if there was just a twin bed. This room not only had a queen bed, but boasted a small bathroom en suite. A fireplace was in the far corner with a large area rug in front.
His gaze returned to the bed, easily big enough for the two of them. But something told him the temptation that would represent was dangerous. Lying next to her, feeling her, smelling her…shit, maybe he should just take the floor.
Sienna stepped into the room and glanced around with a critical eye. “This is my room?”
He opened his mouth to inform her they’d be sharing, but changed his mind. She’d figure it out soon enough. Besides, better not get her all pissed off and then leave, who knew what he’d come back to?
Crossing the room to the dresser, he pulled out one of the drawers. “Go ahead and get yourself settled in. Here’s a T-shirt you can throw on for bed. Unless you want to sleep in that dress.”