The Unholy. Heather Graham
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because that’s what Eddie and Alistair need now.”
“It’s Agent Cameron, Pierce,” Helena drawled.
“Agent Cameron,” Pierce repeated.
“It’s Sean. You’ve known me forever, Pierce. I’m still Sean.”
Pierce wasn’t exactly the epitome of an old-fashioned butler. Or maybe he was the California equivalent. He was dressed in khakis and a short-sleeved cotton tailored shirt, and he wore sandals. He looked like an aging pool boy, still handsome with his blond hair turning silver and his year-round tan.
Sean imagined that it must be interesting to watch the dynamics between him and the newest Mrs. Archer—especially when no one else was around.
“Sean, what will you have?” Helena asked abruptly. “Madigan?”
“It’s Madison, Mrs. Archer,” Madison said politely. She had risen, too. Ignoring Helena, she walked over to Pierce and took his hand. “Eddie is in a bad way, and Alistair’s worse. I’m glad you’re here for them.”
“We all are!” Helena rose, as well, and walked over, handing Pierce the dog. “Will you take Perla for a walk?” she asked.
Sean wondered if she wanted him out of the way while they spoke or if she was just trying to prove that he was only the hired help.
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