* * *
Her new teammate had full, enviably long eyelashes a woman would die for, dark and closed against his handsome face.Frankly, he might betoohandsome, because she needed a guy who didn’t attract attention, blended in.
More, Stein exudedwarrior.Even fully asleep, he still possessed a lethal energy, strength captured but not at rest.
Like this morning, when Emberly had walked out of her bedroom and found him sprawled on the sofa, one foot on the floor as if poised to run.
After her, maybe.So much for trust, although that had never been a thing between them.Except briefly, maybe in Cuba, staking out the embassy.A dangerous liaison, destined for pain.
No, this was not going to end well.
He’d awakened abruptly just by her soft footfalls on the wooden floor, sat up fully alert, and she’d raised her hands with an “It’s me, Phoenix” at the threat in his eyes.
Maybe he’d been having a nightmare.She’d tossed a few hours away staring at the ceiling and reliving the past month in her blotchy dreams.
“Emberly,” he’d said, and she’d decided to wage that war later as she made coffee.
He’d taken the proffered cup once it finished seeping in the French press and now took it out to the balcony, leaning a hip on the railing.
She joined him, refusing to think about last night, the moment of maybes on the balcony.
Maybe was too far away for either of them to consider.
“I got Mystique’s message.She arranged a flight out in a couple hours.”
“Private plane?And for the record, I know her as London.”
“The Swans have resources.Mystique is her code name, but yes, I know her as London too.”
He nodded, staring past her toward the square and maybe beyond, to the sea.The sky arched azure and cloudless above them, and in the golden tones of the morning, he seemed impossibly tan, his eyes terribly blue, and all she could hear was“Swans work alone.”
This could be a very bad idea.It was one thing to worry about Nimue and some rogue player rounding back on her and enacting some kind of personal vengeance.
Completely another to let her heart get tied up with someone who...Well, she didn’t mind risking her own life, but...
“This isn’t going to work.”
He glanced at her, frowned.“Believe me, sweetheart, I can keep up with you.”
“Oh great, now we’re in a spitting contest.”
“You did say I was slow.”
“And don’t forget annoying.”
His mouth opened, but she held up her hand.“Just...don’t get hurt.”
He raised an eyebrow, but she left him there and headed to her room.An hour later, he waited for her by the door.They grabbed an Uber and headed to Cascais Municipal Aerodrome.
She didn’t know who actually owned the Gulfstream G650, but with only her and Steinbeck as passengers, she found herself on one long sofa, Stein on the other.Where he’d stretched out and fallen dead asleep, finally, to the world.
She didn’t want to believe that he’d only relaxed because he knew she couldn’t ditch him.
He did make for an interesting study as he slept.Clearly he’d worked himself back into shape after the devastating accident in Krakow—she’d seen that, of course, over the past eight-plus months and definitely when they were on the run in Cuba.He didn’t even seem phased by the gunshot wound from this past summer—and frankly, at the time, she had worried that he might expire waiting for help outside the Mariposa clinic.
She put her hands to her lips, the whisper of his kiss still lingering there.
Oh boy.She sighed, got up, made coffee, helped herself to a protein bar, and okay, might have been trying to figure out how she could ditch him, when he roused.Sat up, scrubbed his face, and stood.
