Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Everything has been taken care of,” the concierge told Jing kindly. “I’ll have someone show you to your suite.”
The bellhop, a man in his thirties, led us to a private elevator that took us to the top floor. He used a card key and ushered us into an enormous living room with a large terrace overlooking the tree-lined courtyard below. The view hardly mattered, but it was lovely nonetheless.
“Thank you so much,” Jing said, taking the card key from him and handing back a hundred-dollar bill. “We appreciate your accommodating us with this lovely suite last-minute.”
The man departed quickly with a big smile for Jing.
Once the door closed behind him, she rounded on me and pointed at the doors to my right, but I said, “You should look and see which room you and Arden want.”
“That’s the smaller one, and it’s yours,” she informed me, her tone brooking no protest. “Arden and I are sharing the one with two queens. Now go take a shower and go to bed.”
I nodded.
“I’m poking my head in there in fifteen minutes,” she warned me. “If you’re not asleep, I’m getting out that dart gun, and don’t think I don’t have one.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile, leaving Arden’s bag on the couch and shuffling toward the doors.
The room was probably nice, but I didn’t notice. I went to the bathroom, and after a quick hot shower, I dried myself off, went into the bedroom, had enough presence of mind to pull on sleep shorts, and fell down on the bed. I was out in seconds.
By the time I was nudged awake, it was dark. Lifting my head, realizing I was covered by the comforter, I was amazed it had been done without me waking. When the light was flipped on, I was surprised to find an old friend smiling down at me.
“Dante,” I said, my voice gruff with sleep.
His smile lit his dark cobalt-blue eyes, infusing them with warmth. We had worked together for years, him exclusively for the CIA while I was with Army Intelligence. His handler had made a mess of his life early on, separating him from the man he loved in the name of the greater good, but Dante had sorted it himself in the end. I’d been so happy for him. He lived in Maine now and ran a B and B, of all things. He also, now and then, was called on if something escalated to a level that required his specific skill set. I was terrified for a moment, seeing him, because perhaps it was Owen, and Dante was here to help me avenge him.
“No,” he said simply, taking a seat on the chair he’d placed beside my bed. He could have been there for hours for all I knew. “Don’t get your big brain running. I’m here because Darius was called to Ankara and couldn’t be.”
I sat up, squinting at him. “I don’t need”—I gestured at him—“your level of backup. I have my own people, and Lee is here.”
He shook his head. “Lee had to go to Ankara too, hence my presence.”
I jolted. “Who’s watching over the doctor and Arden if—”
“Do you know Garland Murray?”
“Of course I know Garland. You trained him at the agency. He was your guy.”
“That’s right. And I brought him with me. He’s keeping an eye on them.”
I exhaled sharply. “You could have started with that.”
Dante shrugged. “Anyway, you should change and do something with your hair,” he said, looking pained. “Because having it all stand up like that does not inspire fear.”
God. Dante Cerreto was back giving me crap about my hair. My clothes would be next. The thing was, he’d always resembled an Italian runway model or race car driver. He looked like what people thought of when the word spy came to mind. Some sleek, gorgeous, blue-eyed, raven-haired god. James Bond in the flesh. The fact that his hair hadn’t yet gone gray was disappointing. I kept thinking that one of these days, he’d show up on one of the vacations we took together, and he’d have gone silver or white. But not so far. Now that I was thinking about it, Darius looked great too. Maybe I should have joined the CIA back when I was asked instead of staying with Army Intelligence. Apparently, you didn’t age if you were affiliated with the agency. It might have been that dealing-with-the-devil bit.
“You know, if you came just to—”
“Just grab your shit and change so we can go eat.”
“I don’t have time to—”
“Yes, you do. You must. Gar’s feeding the doctor and your pilot as we speak.”
“Is she done?” I rushed out, dying to hear news.
He shook his head. “Not yet, but she’s close. We’ll have answers by the time we’re done eating.” He stood then, turning for the door just as it was thrown open and Jing charged in, gun drawn, ready to shoot.