Page 34 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold (The Blonde Identity #2)

King

It took more than a month of surveillance. They probably could have done it in half the time, but Merritt was being cagey.

Or cagier than usual.

She found them a yacht that they kept moored off the coast, and he and Alex spent their days riding up and down the twisting

highways on a Vespa, Alex’s arms around King’s waist. They spent their nights watching the house through a telescope, lying

on the big loungers on the top deck, eating pasta and looking at the stars.

“What are they watching tonight?” King plopped an olive in his mouth while Alex stood at the telescope that was currently

trained on Viktor Kozlov’s living room. Whatever she saw made her sigh, a little jealous. “ Goldfinger ! Ooh, this is a good one. Q gives Bond an Aston Martin with an ejector seat.”

“That’s not genuine tradecraft.”

“Take that back!” Alex gasped, offended, but it was all King could do not to smile.

“I guess we’ve learned one thing about Kozlov—he’s even more obsessed with spy movies than you are. And that’s saying something.”

He pushed the olives away, not trusting himself when they were within reach, and Alex went back to scanning the roofline and

the grounds.

“There are six perimeter guards tonight,” she said, stepping away from the telescope.

“So they double the watch when the old man’s on the premises.

” King made a mental note and Alex made a real one, logging the observation in her own secret code in a tiny book that she sometimes tucked into her bra.

Not that he’d been noticing. Or, well, any more than he noticed everything because that was his birthright and his job and the key to his survival.

“I wonder what they’ve got in that compound?” King still didn’t know what Merritt wasn’t telling them. But she definitely

wasn’t telling them something.

“Besides a very angry Russian and his presumably angrier mistress?” Alex reached for the olives.

“What makes you think Irina’s angry?”

“Trust me. I’ve seen Viktor Kozlov. The woman who signed up for that job hates him. And herself. And... OMG—”

“Do people really say ‘OMG’?”

“Michael Kingsley, are you... laughing?”

“No. I have something in my eye.”

“That’s for crying. You were.” She leaned down and pulled his hands away from his face. “You were smiling. At me. Because

I’m delightful. Say it.”

“Do we know how many deliveries they get a week?”

“Three. Groceries, flowers, and linens. And don’t change the subject—”

“You are... amusing.” He really didn’t want to admit it. “At times.”

“I knew it. You adore me. I’m adorable.”

The moon was full, and the sky was clear, and they were far enough from shore that it felt like he could make out every star,

but all King could do was shake his head and say, “No comment.”

Alex must have decided to give up while she was ahead because she dropped onto the lounge beside him. The yacht rocked and

swayed, but King could hear the gears turning in her mind. It was like she was gathering her thoughts and her courage, but

when she spoke, it wasn’t much more than a whisper.

“You know, I’m an excellent climber.”

He hated that he could tell when she was serious. He loathed that she was her most serious right then.

“No.”

“We know the guards. The rotations. It wouldn’t be hard.”

“It would be extremely hard.”

“I could do it without ropes.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a death sentence! Those cliffs aren’t straight up and down, Sterling. Which would be bad enough. The middle

section is almost all overhang and... No.”

“Fine.” She sounded like a teenager who had just been told she couldn’t have the keys to her dad’s Maserati. “Whatever. As

long as I don’t get you killed, right?”

He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Exactly.”

If anyone from the house was scanning the sea and the ships, it was important that they look the part, so that was why he

tugged her closer. One of her legs twisted until it was lying over one of his, and through it all, the dark waters of the

Mediterranean kept lapping against the hull and the moon kept shining overhead and the silence stretched out around them like

the night.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, you know?” The words were so low, they were almost swallowed by the sea and King almost didn’t

hear them. But he did. “I’ve been almost killing people my whole life. Longer even.”

“I’m afraid your math doesn’t make sense there, Sterling.” He wasn’t actually expecting her to laugh. Not like she thought

he was funny but like she thought he was... sweet. Innocent. Almost naive. As if she knew something he didn’t.

“Shows what you know; I almost killed someone in the womb.”

“What—”

“Never mind.” She tried to get up, but he wasn’t about to let her go, so he pivoted, trapping one of her legs under one of

his.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you remember. What I told you—about my sister...”

“There are two of you.” He still kind of couldn’t believe it.

He’d never seen her look away from a challenge, back down from a fight. Alexandra Sterling wasn’t someone who looks the other way, period. But that’s exactly what she did.

“I’m too much. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Sterling—”

“You’re right. I was always too much—even before I was born. I took up too much room, and I consumed too much energy, and

I drained everything and everyone around me. I almost killed her. I almost killed the person I love most, and I didn’t even

have opposable thumbs yet.” She gave a sad, dry laugh. “Imagine what I can do now that I have knives.”

She sounded insane because that was how she wanted to sound. She didn’t want anyone to see how raw that wound was—how much

it had shaped her and changed her and brought her to that moment and that world.

“Hey—”

“It was her heart. Mostly. It was small and underdeveloped and full of holes like Swiss cheese.”

“Sterling—”

“She was just a few days old the first time they cut her open. We were lying in the nursery, me a baby giant and her...

They had to do it again, of course. And again. And again. My first memory was of a children’s hospital in Germany, shouting

that the doctors should take my heart instead. I wasn’t using it.” It was the saddest smile he’d ever seen. “Haven’t used

it since.”

“Sterling.”

“Good night, King—”

“Alex.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever said her name before. He didn’t stop to think what it meant, the fact that he couldn’t remember.

“I didn’t mean...” All those times he’d said she was too much—too bold, too brave, too strong, and too foolish. She’d been

told she was too much her whole life, but—“I like your heart just the way it is.”

She nodded slightly and started to turn but looked back at him, like she’d almost forgotten—

“She’s okay, you know? My sister. She’s... happy? I think?”

“Are you happy?”

If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never know what made him ask it. What made her stop and look at the lights on the far coast

and the dark water—the vast sky full of twinkling stars. And him.

“I am tonight.”

Long after she was gone, King just sat there, thinking to himself that, for the first time in a long time, so was he.