And that danger was exactly why Daniel couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t risk her unwittingly divulging classified information. Not only would it put this case in peril; it could possibly put Samiah in danger as well. He didn’t care how tenuous the link between Mike Epsen and that bicycle accident was; the possibility of Samiah suffering the same fate was enough to solidify Daniel’s decision to keep her in the dark. It was better this way.

He closed his eyes again. Sucked in a breath.

He reached for the purse and slowly released the teeth on the zipper one by one, pausing several times to listen for any sounds coming from the bedroom. His heart thumped like a drumbeat within his chest as he angled the purse toward the moonlight streaming in from the large windows. The soft glow glinted off the gold chip that ran along the left edge of the green-and-white access card. He slipped the card out and went over to his jacket. He pulled the scanner from the jacket’s inside pocket and inserted Samiah’s keycard. A green light blinked methodically as the device accessed the information on the card.

In less than two minutes, it was done. The scanner beeped and the green light went from blinking to solid.

Daniel held his breath, waiting to see if she’d heard the beep. There was no stirring coming from the bedroom. Not a sound.

He shoved the scanner back into his jacket pocket and slid Samiah’s access card back into her purse. Then he returned to her bedroom and removed the sweatpants, climbing back under the covers naked and wrapping his arms around Samiah’s waist.

But Daniel knew he wasn’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Even if she never discovered his betrayal, he knew he would never be able to get past it. With that one move, he’d shattered the trust between them forever.

He closed his eyes.

What good would regret and recriminations do him now? He’d had a choice to make and he’d made it. He would just have to learn to live with it, and hope there was some way that Samiah could eventually forgive him. Some way he could learn to eventually forgive himself.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Samiah paused on the sidewalk across the street from the Austin History Center and watched as a team of three carried an enormous framed portrait of lavender fields through the building’s side entrance. It was reminiscent of the sights she’d encountered on a drive through Fredericksburg in the Texas Hill Country last year, the colors so vibrant she could practically smell the fragrant blooms.