Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
He went straight to his bathroom, needing a long, hot shower to release the tension in his muscles.
The bathroom was the only room with lighter colors. The walls were painted eggshell-white, and the floor was cream-colored stone. But his favorite was the luxurious shower that could almost accommodate five people.
He removed his espresso-colored slacks and dress shirt. Once he was naked, he stared at himself in the mirror and dropped his chin to his chest.
Mirage was heavy on his mind in a way he’d thought was impossible, and he couldn’t figure out why.
You damn well know why.
His mind and body programming was supposed to be permanent.
He still didn’t feel much guilt, empathy, sensitivity, or compassion in the field or at home…and he damn sure didn’t feel love.
None of those pesky emotions had invaded his soul in over five years.
Until he’d answered Meridian’s cryptic message and assisted him on one of his missions, which happened to be on Valentine’s Day. What he’d seen had flipped some invisible switch in his mind.
When he and Mirage had arrived to assist, Ex, Meridian’s partner, was nowhere in sight, which should’ve been Grace’s first red flag.
But he’d ignored his gut and went along with what Meridian asked them to do.
The Black Ravens were not the kind of assassins who needed help.
But he and Mirage were asked to make quick work of some bodies for Meridian, and they’d done as he’d ordered.
A second before Meridian’s partner rappelled from the roof, they left before Ex could see them.
However, something had whispered in Grace’s mind for him to go back.
He’d told Mirage to stay concealed while he circled around to make sure everything was good.
Even now, Grace couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed through the skylights of the gutted warehouse. And if Meridian hadn’t been so distracted, he would’ve noticed Grace was watching them.
He’d stared transfixed as Ex straddled Meridian’s lap, then kissed and caressed him, shifting his mind to a place it shouldn’t have been able to go.
Since that day, Grace had been far quieter and more detached than usual…and very hyperaware of Mirage.
Grace shook his head to clear his rogue thoughts, then turned the shower to hot, leaving the cold tap untouched.
The steam filled the large room, and he got in, tilting his head forward, allowing the scalding water to do its job.
He didn’t know how long he stayed in there, but when he got out, his skin was red, and the pads of his fingertips were wrinkled.
He was exhausted. With his mind still on Mirage, he walked naked to the inlaid bar in his living room and poured himself a stiff drink.
He’d already had three on the flight, but they hadn’t been enough to still his mind.
He took his drink to the bedroom and pulled back the comforter on his Alaskan king bed.
The bedroom was just as minimalist as the living room.
He had a nightstand and a dresser with a mirror.
Regardless that their headquarters was safer and more difficult to infiltrate than the White House, he still tucked his Berettas under his pillow and closed his eyes to enjoy some much-needed rest.
Mirage
Mirage didn’t get much sleep.
He’d tossed and turned for several hours, then dozed off thirty minutes before his alarm sounded for the debriefing.
He wasn’t concerned. The mission had been a success. Their track record was impeccable, and the department was considering them for more high-priority cases…perilous cases.
He hoped that wasn’t why Grace was changing their strategy in the field, like on the last mission.
Grace was a far better sniper than him, but since the measly quarter mile was an insult to his skills, Grace had reasoned that Mirage should handle the long-distance elimination and had chosen to enter the safe house himself…alone.
That wasn’t how they operated.
Mirage could’ve used his daggers to take out the guards outside and remained chest-to-back with Grace like they were supposed to.
But instead, he’d had to sit in a goddamn tree for hours, balancing a heavy-ass, four-foot rifle. He’d been in more danger from the wildlife than the weak cartel they were after.
It’d been smart of him to tell Spectre they were ready for their biannual training.
Once Grace was reminded of how flawless and effective they were together, it’d help put his mind at ease.
Mirage dressed in loose charcoal slacks and an ivory cashmere sweater with a soft, oversized hood.
He stood in his den staring out the window until five minutes before their scheduled debriefing. He opened his door, not surprised when Grace opened his at the same time.
They held eye contact for a charged moment, his partner reflecting a mask of coldness back at him.
Mirage read Grace’s frigid expression as if it were his favorite novel.
What the hell is he so anxious about? This energy is annoying me.
Grace severed the connection and headed toward the elevators.
Mirage was tempted to slap him in the back of the head, but Grace would just see it coming and counter the blow.