She was still too pale—and while she’d tried to disguise the staples, the angry welt in her scalp was hard to miss. The bruised ribs, however, were no doubt hurting more.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be fine. We can sit over there.” She motioned toward the dining table in the suite, where a laptop had been set up with papers spread out around it, and walked across the room.

If her stiff gait was any indication, she was nowhere near fine.

He followed her, dropping his leather biker jacket on the couch as he passed.

She eased into a chair, and he took the one beside her. “You want a soda? We have a stocked refrigerator.” She indicated the small kitchenette.

“No thanks.”

“So what do you have?” She straightened up the papers on the table, avoiding eye contact.

Being alone with him in a hotel room made her nervous.

Because she didn’t trust him?

Or did she not trust herself, thanks to the electricity sparking between them?

Difficult to gauge . . . but she had no worries from his side. He didn’t intend to do anything to jeopardize the opportunity fate . . . or luck . . . or God . . . had laid at his feet with their unexpected reunion.

“I told you we were going to put surveillance on Eduardo. A man matching the description of his brother-in-law was spotted leaving Eduardo’s house about ten. It appears he lives there. My contact texted a photo, and I made a positive ID. Hernandez had a black eye and a puffy nose.”

Her attention snapped to him. “You think he’s the one who attacked me?”

“I think it’s a reasonable possibility.”

Her forehead bunched. “The pieces aren’t fitting. Eduardo’s worked hard to establish a life here legally. Why would he harbor a criminal? Maybe even become involved in criminal activity?”

“Blackmail? Extortion? Threats? Family loyalty? There could be a host of motives.”

“I assume you’ll continue to watch him.”

“Both of them. Closely. Be careful around Eduardo until we learn more.” He waved a hand over the material spread out on the table. “What do you have?”

She stared at him. “That’s it? You went to all that effort”—she indicated his disguise—“to pass on one piece of information? You could have told me this by phone.”

Yeah, he could.

But a phone call wouldn’t have let him appraise her physical condition—and after cleaning her blood off the lapel of his dress coat last night while his stomach churned, that had been a high priority.

Plus, he had another topic to discuss that required an in-person conversation.

He said none of that, however.

“Warnings are better passed on in person.” Again, he motioned to the material on the table. “So what do you have?”

After assessing him for another moment, she leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been digging deeper on Noah Evans in light of new information that surfaced yesterday.”