Page 29 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold (The Blonde Identity #2)

Eight Years Ago

The Island

Alex

Alex slept.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The bed was big and soft and the sheets felt like satin and butter had a baby. The ocean

breeze was still blowing through those gauzy curtains and, outside, the sun was starting to rise, breaking over the horizon

in an explosion of color that made the sky look like a swirl of sherbet.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so rested. Like the part of her brain that was always worrying had finally

turned off. Rebooted. There were no memory-hogging apps running in the background of her mind, and as she pushed herself upright

and stretched, she felt almost... afraid. Like feeling good because none of your alarms have been triggered and then realizing

that’s because the alarms are down.

She wasn’t sure what she was aware of first—the faint sounds of singing or the sight of the bathroom door opening in a cloud

of steam.

Instantly, Alex reached for the gun under her pillow. She had it trained on the man in the towel before he had a chance to

drop it.

“So this is what wakes you up,” King said, turning to the closet and pulling a pair of shorts off a hanger. His hair was wet

and his chest was bare and Alex forgot to put her gun down. She had the sudden feeling she might just need it because the

man on the other side of the room was a stranger.

“Sterling?” King said, loud enough to tell her that maybe he’d been saying it for a while now. “You gonna shoot me or can we get to work?”

“What?” She rubbed her eyes and looked out the window at the rising sun. “What time is it?”

“Mission o’clock. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

He was shimmying into those shorts. They were disappearing up beneath the towel. Because... right.

Towel.

Chest.

Skin.

So much very warm, very wet skin stretched tight over oh-so-many muscles and...

Michael Kingsley was ripped. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. She’d seen him fight and run and lift. She’d known him for

years, but had she? Because she’d never thought he was an ab guy. Maybe an “I eat a balanced diet because my body is a temple”

guy but definitely not a “Someday I might need to go undercover as an underwear model” guy.

“Yo. Sterling.”

“Did you just...” Alex blinked hard, not quite appreciating the irony that that was the thing that woke her. “Did you just say ‘yo’?”

“We need to find a way to the other side of the island.”

He was sliding on that white linen shirt, rolling up the sleeves and... Yeah. What was she thinking again?

And then he was... close. And there. He was just right there , sitting down and leaning close with something like worry in his eyes as he asked her, “Are you okay?”

She wasn’t okay. She’d slept so hard, she’d actually forgotten where she was—she’d actually forgotten who she was.

She was someone who hated Michael Kingsley.

“Of course. I just...”

She turned to face the windows and the sunrise and the sea.

“I did it, too.” Even after she’d processed the words, she didn’t really understand them. The voice was very soft and very

close, and it sounded like confession feels.

“What?”

He didn’t even bother to look guilty. “I slept.”

Oh. That. It should have felt comforting, knowing the Great Michael Kingsley had done the same thing. Maybe it was okay to be human.

This time. So Alex pushed her hair out of her eyes and choked out, “Professional hazard. Won’t happen again.”

“Of course it will.” The bed shifted as he rose. She wanted to wheel on him and shout, but he was already walking away, tossing

over his shoulder, “Because, like it or not, you feel safe with me, Sterling. You are safe. And, like it or not, I’m safe with you, too.”

He was right about one thing.

Alex didn’t like it one bit.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Alex was out of the bathroom and pulling on some shoes and rushing to catch up to the figure who was

disappearing down the winding path. “Where are you going?” Alex darted out in front of him.

The sun was up and the air felt warm and sweet. Birds were singing in the trees, and it sounded like a white noise app—because,

in Alex’s world, even the birds were an illusion, and she didn’t know what to make of it, the realization that her fake husband

was the only thing on that island she could count on.

“Where do you think I’m—”

“Good morning, Cupids!” Flora appeared on the path ahead of them.

“Good morning,” King said back.

“Did my lovers sleep well?”

“Like the dead.” He didn’t take his eyes off Alex.

“I hope you’re ready for a cupid-filled day! Did you remember to wear your swimsuits?”

“Yup!” Alex waited for Flora to turn and head for the dining hall, and then she inched closer to King. “Come on. Let’s get

out of here—”

“You can’t come with me.” He jerked back so fast, he almost sounded afraid.

“I have to go with you,” she reminded him.

“No. You have to go”—he waved at Flora’s retreating back—“ignite your inner goddess or whatever. And I need to go find a way

into that compound.”

Alex was aware, faintly, of other couples walking down the path, filing out of bungalows and toward the smells of breakfast.

“No,” Alex said simply, and King pinched the bridge of his nose.

“We have to figure out how to get to the other side of the island, remember?” he whispered.

Alex cut her eyes at the other guests disappearing into the main building. “And we’re supposed to be here together , remember?”

“But we’re not supposed to get along. Remember?”

“Oh. How can I forget?”

“Oh, David! Donna!” Flora called. “You don’t want to be late. We have a big morning. We’re doing trust falls!”

“ Trust falls. ” It was almost adorable how annoyed he sounded. “Please. Please just go with the others. Keep them busy and out of my way—”

“No.”

“Why does everything have to be a fight with you?”

“Why does everything have to be your way? If I have to do trust falls, then you have to do trust falls.”

He was already shaking his head. “You don’t need me for that.”

“I literally do! Who do you think is going to catch me, David ? No one. No one will catch me when I fall. I literally—”

“Don’t act like you’re not capable of catching yourself.” King looked like he didn’t know whether to scream in frustration

or hang his head in shame. “Don’t act like a part of you doesn’t prefer it that way.”

Did she prefer it that way? For the first time, Alex honestly wasn’t sure of the answer.

She’d slept with him. She’d slept . But the biggest twist was: so had he.

“Why do you get to go climb a mountain and I have to do the touchy-feely crap? Is it because I’m a girl?”

“It’s because you’re better at it than I am!” He hadn’t meant to say it. She could tell by the look on his face, but the words

were out and he couldn’t pull them back so he didn’t even try. “You’re better, okay? People like you. They trust you. They

want to be in your orbit because you have the gravitational pull of the sun. Because you are good at people , and I’m good at...” He pointed toward the dense forest and jagged cliffs and the millions of ways there were to die on

that island. “Anything but people.”

He was the most entitled, arrogant man she’d ever known, and he was standing there, looking sheepish and embarrassed and guilty.

“Please...” He inched forward and lowered his voice. “Please don’t make me do this.”

Alex was still staring at him. She wanted to say no, but he so clearly wanted her to say yes that she found herself wondering—wavering.

Did the great Michael Kingsley III actually need her?

“Very good! Now come along!” Flora was saying as she led the group back down the trail. They were getting closer. It was almost

too late.

“I can do it,” he whispered. “Buy me some time, and I can find us a way to the other side of the island.”

“Now everybody stay together!” Flora called. “Strictly speaking, we aren’t supposed to be going there, but—”

It was the only thing that could have made Alex look away from him. “Going where?”

“The other side of the island.”