Page 46 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold
“Just as you—our lovers—must come together. And work together. To soar over adversity and pass through the valley of your love.”
“Does she actually know the meanings of these words?” King whispered, but Alexshhhhed him. As ifhewere the one being ridiculous.
He was just getting ready to say so when Alex gave him a nudge. “Look.” She pointed to the place where the clouds were parting and a helicopter was dropping out of the sky and landing on a pad near the fort.
“Guess that’s one way in,” King whispered.
“Excellent! Just excellent!” Flora was clapping. “Now, where to begin... David? David, why don’t you start us off?”
King honestly felt sorry for this David guy until an elbow connected with his ribs and he looked down at Alex, who cocked an eyebrow, and one word landed in his mind:wife. Followed quickly bymine. And then...
David, she mouthed. And he had to shiver because, that’s right... He was David. And...
He’d forgotten.
King hadn’t even known it was possible, but—
“You’re wasting your time.” Alex spun on Flora. “David doesn’t share. Anything. Ever.” She crossed her arms and stared daggers while King wound his mind back far enough to hear Flora’s original question.
Lovers, what did you think when you first saw your lovelies?
“You might as well call on someone else,” Alex was saying. “David doesn’t—”
“Three things,” he said, and Alex went silent. “I thought three things the first time I laid eyes on her. I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I thought she’d be the death of me. And...” It was like the whole world leaned forward, listening. Waiting. Even the birds stopped singing as he said, “And I thought... there are worse ways to go.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alex
Technically, their room wasn’t a room. It was a bungalow. But as Alex took in the small building tucked between the tall trees of the jungle and the black sand of the beach, she couldn’t help but think it was actually the most opulent shack she’d ever laid eyes on.
There were dark wood floors and high arching ceilings. Between the rattan fans making lazy circles overhead and the breeze blowing off the ocean, it was no wonder the sheer white curtains kept billowing and dancing in the moonlight. Like ghosts. But that wasn’t what Alex was afraid of. Because while the room had a tiny fridge stocked with two bottles of champagne, and there were two bathrooms (one was outdoors) with two fluffy white robes and two sets of slippers—two oversize chairs and two mints on two pillows...
There was only one bed.
For a moment, Alex just stood there, looking at it numbly, wishing she could talk to Zoe, because her sister was the only person Alex knew who would actually appreciate the situation. She was also, unfortunately, the last person Alex could ever tell.
They were on different paths now, but maybe they always had been? Like whatever cosmic or genetic fate had split them in two in the womb was still there, standing between them. Alex had thought that being away from her sister would get easier now that it was a matter of national security, but that didn’t change the fact that...
“There’s only one bed.”
Alex didn’t realize she’d said the words aloud until she heard another voice ask, “What’s that?”
“Nothing.” It was sloppy, standing there, saying things aloud,forgetting that she wasn’t alone, so Alex went to her CIA-issued suitcase and threw it open. There was a screwdriver in her cosmetics case, and Alex got to work, checking inside vents and unscrewing light switch covers and—
“What are you doing?” The man had the nerve to sound bored.
“It’s called clearing the room?” she whispered. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“You don’t have to do that.” King was hanging up his shirts. All white. All expensive. All a thread here or a dart there from being identical.
“Of course I have to do this. It’s protocol, or did you forget that, Mr. Photographic Memory?”
“You don’t have to do that because I already did it.”
“We just got here!”
Oh, she hated him. Even in this he had to be first.
