Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
“Anyone else think it’s weird that the CIA got us to do this?” muttered Cal. “They got their own people.”
“He’s got a point.” Bradan’s Irish accent was like a silver knife in the dark.
JD shook his head. He had binoculars up to his eyes, watching Tanya’s window. “This is a good opportunity for us. Could open all sorts of doors.”
I sympathized with Cal and Bradan: both of them had had bad experiences with the CIA. But I was automatically on JD’s side: he was the best damn leader I’d ever seen and if he said it was okay, it was okay. I nodded firmly and Cal sighed, backed down and went to find a good sniper spot.
Moments later, the rest of us were stacked up against the wall outside her apartment building. “Let’s be clear,” JD told us. “The aim is to take her alive but if you have to, you put her down. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” We all nodded and glanced at each other, our breathing shaky with adrenaline, and I felt my chest tighten. Man, I loved this team. I’d found my family.
Gabriel picked the lock. Bradan slipped inside and led the way upstairs, moving silently: the guy was one stealthy fucker. Four floors and we were outside Tanya’s apartment. This lock took Gabriel a little longer, but then we were swarming inside, guns up, ready for anything. Just as we’d planned, the others fanned out and checked the other rooms one by one, while I headed straight through the living room for the bedroom. “Clear,” I heard Bradan murmur from the kitchen. “Clear,” from Danny in the guest room, “Clear” from JD in the bathroom.
My breathing went tight as I approached the bedroom door: she had to be in here.
I kicked open the door.
And suddenly, she was real.
She wasn’t in the bed, like I’d expected. She was standing right in front of me, fully dressed, her head cocked curiously to one side. I froze in the doorway, panting, and just stared at that face I’d gazed at for so long. Those high, sharp cheekbones. Those soft, pouting lips. And those long waves of copper-red hair. Jesus, the photos didn’t do her justice.
My eyes roamed down her body, over the creamy valley of cleavage revealed by her open leather jacket and the V-neck of her blue vest top, past her slender waist to the lush flare of her hips in her tight black jeans. My cock was rising in my pants: I felt like I’d walked off a damn cliff and was falling, flailing. Her perfume was in the air. Part of it was soft, sensual, and very, very feminine: I felt like someone was slowly trailing an orchid’s delicate petals over my cheek. But there was another part, a tang that made me think of sharply sweet red berries. What was I meant to be doing, again?
I looked into her eyes and they were so cold it was like inhaling on a winter’s day. That coldness should have made me run but it just drew me in deeper. She was the razor sharp blade I had to touch, the poison candy I had to taste. And as I gazed at her, I thought I saw the ice change, turning from frosted and impenetrable to clear. Beneath it was a scalding, desperate heat. I could feel myself leaning forward—
She looked away, breaking the spell, and I blinked, mad at myself. Focus! I had a job to do.
But now I’d seen her, that job seemed insane. Even in her heeled ankle boots, she was six inches shorter than me. Her? She’s the big threat?! I glanced down at my combat gear, feeling ridiculous. I lowered the shotgun and took out a set of handcuffs.
She looked at them and raised one perfect eyebrow. “My safeword is Cincinnati.”
I froze again, utterly thrown. First there were the images she’d put in my mind: images of her naked and tied down and begging. Then there was her voice. God, it was incredible. Her Russian accent carved every word from a block of ice and then that sexy, gently mocking tone warmed each icy syllable until it was glossy and dripping. My cock was twitching and at the same time my face had gone skillet-hot: I felt like a goddamn teenager caught jerking off.
“Kneel down,” I said, trying to take back control.
“Oh.” She glanced at my groin and her eyes went wide, innocent. “So that’s what you want?”
I couldn’t think, probably because all my blood was rushing south. “No! I—Kneel down!”
She pursed her lips, as controlled as I was flustered. “I think not.” She took a step towards me.
“Make it easy on yourself,” I told her desperately. “You got nowhere to run. Only way out of this room is through me.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” she said sweetly. And she punched me in the face.