When Callan came downstairs after freshening up, he found Emily in the kitchen trying to make breakfast.
She looked calm and composed now, as though she had not spent the morning tormenting him.
Her hair was tied neatly now, and she wore a simple blouse and fitted trousers with low, flat shoes. Her handbag sat on the island.
Callan narrowed his eyes slightly. "You look very innocent for someone who committed several crimes this morning."
Emily raised her head and grinned when their eyes met. "Crimes?" She asked with mock innocence.
"Yes."
She tilted her head. "What kind?"
"Psychological torture."
She laughed softly. "You were a big boy. You survived."
"Barely."
"Let's make sure you don't next time," she said as she poured some into a bowl.
"You're toying with fire, Em," he warned lightly.
