Page 32 of A Ballad of Blackbirds and Betrayal

She’d dated occasionally over the years, professional obligations making most relationships short lived and ultimately unfulfilling.Nothing had prepared her for this—this constant awareness, this bone-deep realization that their souls recognized each other.In the operating room, she’d always known instinctively which instruments she needed before her assistants could hand them to her.With Atticus, that same instinctive understanding existed, as if some part of her had always known him.

For days now, she’d caught him watching her when he thought she wouldn’t notice, his dark eyes tracking her movements with an intensity that sent heat rushing through her body.She’d felt his presence before he entered rooms, sensed his restlessness that mirrored her own.The tension between them had only grown, electric and undeniable despite their mutual attempts to focus on the mission.

Three nights of broken sleep, filled with dreams of his hands, his mouth, the scarred landscape of his body.Three days of pretending those dreams didn’t leave her aching and restless, professional composure stretched thin as piano wire.

With a frustrated sigh, she set the tablet aside.Sleep would be impossible in this state.Perhaps a swim would help clear her mind.She’d discovered during her first day at Dynamis that the facility guide in her quarters detailed amenities she’d never have expected in a private security firm—including a rooftop pool accessible at all hours.More surprising still had been the closet stocked with clothing in her exact size: tactical gear, casual wear, even swimwear.Dynamis’s thoroughness was both impressive and slightly unnerving.

The sleek black one-piece had still had its tags attached.She’d removed them earlier, hanging the suit in her bathroom with the vague thought of using the pool when she found time.Now seemed as good a moment as any.

* * *

The rooftop level of Dynamis headquarters was a study in calculated luxury.Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a 360-degree view of the Dallas skyline, the city lights creating constellations against the night sky.The pool itself was Olympic sized, the water illuminated from beneath with soft blue lighting that cast rippling patterns across the tiled ceiling.Steam rose gently from the heated water, creating a misty halo in the climate-controlled air.

Sabrina hesitated at the entrance, surprised to find she wasn’t alone.A solitary figure cut through the water with powerful, measured strokes—a rhythm so precise it could only belong to one person.

Atticus.

She considered retreating, but something kept her rooted to the spot, watching the fluid grace of his movements.He reached the far end, executed a flawless turn, and began another lap before noticing her presence.He came to a stop mid-pool, water streaming from his shoulders as he stood in the shallow end.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”he called, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.

Sabrina moved toward the pool’s edge, suddenly self-conscious in the fitted swimsuit.“The countermeasure calculations keep circling in my head.I thought physical exhaustion might help.”

“The mission has a way of keeping us up at night,” he replied, pushing wet hair back from his forehead.In the blue light, the scars across his torso were silvered, mapping a history of violence survived.“Though lately, there’ve been other reasons for my insomnia.”

Something in his tone made heat pool low in her belly.The way he looked at her—as if he could see through every defense she’d ever constructed—sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature.

“Work-related reasons?”she asked, though they both knew better.

The corner of his mouth lifted in that almost-smile she’d come to watch for.“Not entirely.”

He swam to the edge where she stood, powerful arms cutting through the water with effortless precision.Up close, she could see droplets clinging to his eyelashes, the slight stubble darkening his jaw, the intensity that never quite left his eyes even in repose.

“Are you coming in,” he asked, “or just admiring the view?”

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable.Sabrina took a breath and dove in, the warm water enveloping her in a silken embrace.She surfaced several feet away, turning to face him.

“I was Navy,” she reminded him, pushing wet hair from her face.“I can hold my own in water.”

“I’ve never doubted your capabilities,” he replied.

They swam in companionable silence for several laps, matching each other’s pace without discussion.The physical exertion was exactly what Sabrina had needed, muscles working in familiar rhythm, mind temporarily freed from the tangle of molecular formulas and mission parameters.

She came to rest at the shallow end, breathing slightly elevated but not labored.Atticus stopped beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body despite the water between them.

“We should talk about what happened,” she said, surprising herself with her directness.

“In my office.”It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”She met his gaze unflinchingly.“And about what’s been happening since.”

“Which is?”

“This,” she said, gesturing between them.“Whatever this…current is.I can’t focus.I can’t sleep.Every time you walk into a room, it’s like all the oxygen gets pulled toward you, and I can’t?—”

His mouth was on hers before she could finish, water sluicing between their bodies as he closed the distance.Unlike their first kiss—tentative before it turned consuming—this one began with certainty, with mutual hunger too long denied.

Sabrina’s hands found his shoulders, skin warm and slick beneath her palms.He tasted of chlorine and barely leashed control, his body hard against hers as he backed her toward the pool wall.One of his hands slid into her wet hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss, while the other pressed against the small of her back, eliminating any remaining space between them.

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