“Here.”

He noted the number Talin flashed on the screen. “Can we postpone our meeting?”

A nod. “Let me know what you find out.”

Ending the call, Dev coded in Ashaya’s number. It was answered on her end by a gray-eyed child with silky straight black hair. “Hello. May I help you?”

Dev hadn’t thought anything could make him smile today, but he felt his lips curve at the solemn greeting. “Is your mom around?”

“Yes.” The boy’s eyes sparkled, suddenly more blue than gray. “She’s making me cookies for kindergarten.”

Dev couldn’t quite reconcile the idea of Psy scientist Ashaya Aleine as a mother who made her little boy cookies at six fifteen in the morning. “Shouldn’t you still be asleep?”

Before the boy could reply, a frowning female face filled the screen. “Who are you talking—” Her gaze fell on him. “Yes?”

“My name is Devraj Santos.”

Picking up her son, Ashaya hitched him over her hip. The boy immediately snuggled his head onto her shoulder, one little hand spread on the pale blue of her shirt. Intelligent eyes watched Dev with undisguised interest.

“The Shine Foundation,” Ashaya said, adjusting the collar of her son’s pajama top with the absent movements of a mother used to doing such things.

“Yes.”

“Talin’s spoken about you.” She tucked back a strand of curly black hair that had escaped her braid. “What can I do for you?”

Dev’s eyes flicked to her son. Taking the hint, Ashaya kissed the boy on the cheek and smiled. “Keenan, you want to cut out some cookies while I talk to Mr. Santos?”

An enthusiastic nod. Mother and child disappeared from the screen for a minute, and as he waited, Dev found himself wondering if he’d ever hold a child of his own in his arms. The likelihood was very low—even had he trusted his genetic inheritance, he’d done too much, seen too much. There was no softness left in him.