Page 12

Mirage

Mirage waited until the heel clicks of the Gucci shoes faded down the hall before he turned back to Grace’s steely gaze.

Eyes that reflected emptiness within.

Grace stood still, too still, not even blinking, creating an air of intrigue around him.

So silent but still commanding.

Mirage pulled out one of the executive conference chairs around the long table.

“You wanna sit and talk for a while?”

Grace didn’t budge.

For whatever reason, Mirage wanted Grace to be as impressed with him as he was with Grace. But the entire time the director had been reading off Mirage’s skills, Grace had looked the opposite of awed.

Mirage shoved the chair back in place.

Grace’s piercing glare shook him.

“Umm, where are you from?” he asked, feeling foolish.

He still got no answer. He did get a couple of blinks of those long lashes and a raised dark brow.

Really, motherfucker?

Mirage didn’t take the bait or show any feelings.

“They said you were in the Marines. Where were you stationed?”

Mirage waited a few seconds before he narrowed his eyes and elaborated further, trying hard to break the ice.

“You were a sharpshooter, right? I think the suit said you were one of the best to come out of the Sniper Academy.”

Mirage shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

“That’s pretty damn impressive. You must’ve seen quite a bit of action. I was a combat medic. Maybe we’ve been on some of the same battlefields.”

After Grace ignored that question as well, Mirage closed the distance between them.

“Don’t you think communication will be important for us to succeed?” Mirage had to crane his neck to hold eye contact. “So you better start fuckin’ talkin’ because I. Do. Not. Fail. At anything. Ever. And I’m not about to start because you wanna be a dick.”

Mirage’s jaw ticced.

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

There was zero hesitation before Grace responded dryly, “Because you ask inane questions.”

Mirage had to remind himself that Grace’s words were an insult and to not get lost in hearing his coarse voice, which sounded like the creaking of a rusty gate.

“Did you just daringly call me stupid?”

“No. I inadvertently called your questions stupid.”

Mirage balled his fists to keep from lashing out. He was damn near tempted to reach for the blade concealed in his sleeve and cut this asshole’s throat.

But he couldn’t. He had to be as robotic and unfazed as Grace.

“Fine,” he gritted in a fake stoic tone. “Then you ask me a question if you believe it’ll be more relevant.”

Grace licked his full lips.

Damn, even his alluring mouth moved with sensual grace.

Mirage fought not to lower his eyes and fixate on them.

Grace edged closer until their chest were inches apart.

“What were you doing in the restricted lab in the middle of the night?”

Oh shit.