Ready for a full-on attack, Harry paused, stymied by her switch in topic. One of her finely arched brows rose, and she tapped on the handle of her teacup.

“He’s doing as well as can be expected, better than the doctor hoped at this point in his recovery.”

“Aren’t you pleased?”

“Of course I’m pleased.” He hadn’t come to chat about his father, but he humored her use of an old spy trick to soften her up. Unfortunately for Elise, he had no intention of leaving without answers.

“You don’t sound it.” Elise took another sip of tea, then set her cup back in its saucer.

“I’m extremely pleased.” He ran a hand through his short, cropped hair. “He and Mum want to know when Sammy will be home.”

“Is he well enough for a lad of Sammy’s . . .” Elise hesitated, before she added, “Exuberance?”

“That’s just it; Dad isn’t anywhere close to a full recovery, nor will he be for some time.”

“Something will doubtless work out. You might even find a childminder Sammy doesn’t object to.” Her lips curved.

He stared at her for a second. “It’s not working.”

“What’s not working?” Elise tilted her head coyly to the side.

“You haven’t distracted me, though I do give you points for effort.”

“It was worth a try.” Her elegant shoulders rose and fell. “Besides, I did wonder how your father was doing. You never really said.”

“Considering all you’ve done for Sammy and me, I should have kept you abreast of his recuperation. I promise, you’ll be the first to know when Sammy’s care is squared away.”

“If you think that’s the reason I asked after your father, think again, Benson. I am quite concerned.”

He studied Elise. No lies lurked in her expression. Part of the temper that had simmered within him since last night fizzled. It had been many years since he’d shared an emotional load with someone who cared. But he’d not let Elise off so easily, not till he got to the bottom of last evening’s darts competition.

Unwilling to give her more time to fob him off, Harry folded his hands on the cream-colored linen and leaned forward. “Has Nigel reinstated you?”

She picked up her teacup, making rather a fuss with it. “Not exactly.”

“Did he brief you on my mission?”

She frowned, still not meeting his eyes. “No, but I have connections at headquarters. It wasn’t hard to piece everything together. Why the inquisition? You knew exactly what I was doing last night; I was gathering intel for you.”

“Did I ask for your help?”

“No, you did not.” She met his eyes, hers flashing blue fire. “Now what? Are you going to report me to Nigel?”

Harry leaned back in his chair, his heart thumping against his ribs. “I have something better planned for you.”