Page 36 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold (The Blonde Identity #2)

Alex

It was another week before Merritt found them in the galley kitchen, arguing over the proper way to fry an egg—

“No part of a fried egg should be crispy, Sterling. If it’s crispy, you did it...”

But King trailed off when Merritt appeared in the doorway, smirking as she said, “It’s time.”

Of course, by then Alex had already spent several days shopping and planning and watching King do geometry in his head. (Which

was honestly kind of sexy, though she would have rather died than say so.)

Finally, the conditions were right and they couldn’t put it off any longer. She didn’t want to think about how—if it were

up to her—she might have put it off for forever.

***

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alex asked as they crouched on the cliffs that looked over Kozlov’s compound. The helicopter

had left that morning, taking Irina and Kozlov back to Moscow. They weren’t due back for another week. The movers and decorators

were gone, and the house was finally settled.

This was their window. If they were crazy enough to take it.

But maybe Alex was getting older—or maybe King was just rubbing off on her—because for the first time in a long time she thought

that crazy might be overrated.

“Of course it’s not a good idea.” King’s voice was softer than she was used to. “It’s your idea.” There was just enough moonlight that she could see the white of his teeth and know that he was teasing, so she snatched

the black nylon rope out of his hands and threw it into a perfect knot.

“I didn’t hear you coming up with any better ones.”

“You’re right.” He nodded sagely. “You didn’t.”

“And the place is empty,” Alex said, almost wistful. “For now.”

“It is.”

“And the faster we get this done, the sooner we can leave each other’s company,” Alex pointed out, but King stayed silent

for a long time. Then he gave a slow, soft nod.

“Of course.”

“Never lay eyes on each other again.”

The town down the coast did fireworks every Tuesday, so Alex shouldn’t have been surprised when she heard a low, subtle boom in the distance.

“That’s true.” He was breathing a little harder than he should have been. This was their window. They needed to take advantage

of the distraction and the sky full of color and the noise.

This was their window.

And still...

“Sterling...”

Alex held out the crossbow, saying, “Do you want to do the honors or should I?”

For a moment, she was sure he hadn’t heard her because his eyes never left hers, like the answer was already there, floating

back and forth between them.

Then, overhead— boom . Light filled the sky, like every star in the heavens had picked that moment to start falling.

King shook his head. “You do it. You’re a better shot.” Did he really think that? Did he really... “Sterling,” he prompted, and Alex shook off the thought. She aimed the bow and fired, watched as the rope unfurled, whipping

through the night.

A moment later, he was tying off their end and checking the tension, saying, “I’ll go first.”

“But—”

“I’m heavier,” King snapped, then recoiled, like he wanted to pull the words back. “If it can hold me, it can hold you. This

part... I’m not going to argue with you about this part.”

And, suddenly, Alex couldn’t remember how to argue—how to speak—because he was looking down at her like he would have given

anything to shoot that crossbow the other direction, to slide her right back to the boat and out of harm’s way.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Alex had forgotten about their comms units. And Merritt. And even their mission. She’d almost forgotten her own name when

he looked at her and said, “I’ll see you on the other side.”

And then he was flying, disappearing into the night.

Two minutes later, Alex followed.