Page 16 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold (The Blonde Identity #2)

Nine Years Ago

Cartagena, Colombia

King

King didn’t complain because it wouldn’t have mattered. If Merritt had wanted this to be a solo mission, it would have been.

If she had thought him ready to be on his own, he would be. And, most of all, if this job hadn’t required a certain kind of

female operative, he wouldn’t have been walking down the stone streets of the walled city at that moment, holding the hand

of Alex Sterling.

All spies are chess players, but Merritt was a grand master. King knew she was a dozen moves ahead and well aware of the endgame

and she wasn’t going to share. But, in the meantime, King had other problems. Specifically, he had three:

There was the mission.

There was the woman.

And there was the hat.

“I can’t believe you wore that.”

“Wore what?” Alex tilted her head up to look at him, and the wide brim of the big white hat tipped back, exposing the long

line of her throat to the sun.

“Could you have found a bigger hat? Perhaps one that doubles as a hang glider or maritime vessel?”

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“Someone is on a mission,” he growled in her ear, but Sterling, being Sterling, simply smiled as if he were the love of her

life and not the bane of her existence.

Her dress was white with a long skirt that flowed around her in the breeze.

The air was hot and stifling—the high was expected to be in the nineties, but with the heat of the Colombian sun it felt like triple digits and King thought his skin might actually catch fire.

Sterling, on the other hand, looked like a cone of soft serve ice cream—cool and smooth and swirling.

“What’s wrong with my hat?” She sounded almost petulant—like for all their slings and arrows, that was the thing that had finally hurt her.

“You know the objective is to blend in?”

“And see, here I thought the objective was to not get caught.”

She was swinging their hands between them as they walked among the crowds of tourists. People rushed around them, selling

cool bottles of water and little bags of coffee, paper fans and fake emeralds. He would have been tempted to buy a hat for

himself, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You’re drawing too much attention to yourself.” Because of course she was. She was the only cool thing for a hundred miles.

She was brighter than the sun and more refreshing than the breeze, and every person who laid eyes on her spent a moment wondering

who she was or how King got lucky enough to be the man holding her hand. And it was unacceptable. Every bit of it.

“Oh, darling. I can’t help drawing attention to myself. I’m adorable.”

“I know.” King had always prided himself on his excellent poker face, but the look on hers... “I mean, I know that you

can’t help it.”

“Oh well...” They stopped in the shade of a church spire, and she reached for his white linen shirt—toying with the buttons.

She raised her head slightly, eyes hidden from the world behind the brim of that ridiculous hat, but he could see her. He

could always see her. There wasn’t an ounce of teasing in the voice that said, “I don’t say mercy, remember?”

“I remember everything.”

King regretted the words as soon as they were out, but Sterling just smirked up at him.

“Because I’m special?” The tease was back in her voice.

“Because I’m cursed.”

That, at last, surprised her. “What do you—”

“Okay, you two, this is a work trip, or do you need the reminder?” Merritt’s voice was in his ear then. Because Merritt’s

voice was always in his head. “The shop is the one on the corner with the vines arching over the doorway.” They knew this already, but Merritt

wasn’t in the mood to take chances. “Our man is Senor Lozano. His buyers are coming to town tomorrow morning. You need to

get him to open the safe so we can see if our stones are in there. Then, if you get a chance, make the switch. If you don’t,

we’ll send a black bag team in to do it tonight. For right now, we just have to get eyes on those stones.”

“We know,” King said, feeling frustrated. “We’re”—he couldn’t help but look down at the woman beside him—“ready.”

But the strangest part was when he realized it was true.