Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Is that the right word, or am I kidding myself?
Mid-forties, tall, massively built. He wears a gray suit that matches the streaks at his temples. His eyes are sharper and more intense. His energy is even more so. He stands at the desk, leaning over the receptionist. He’s not trying to intimidate her. He doesn’t look malicious or cruel.
But he looks intimidating. His head turns. It’s like he feels me watching him.
The darkness in his grey eyes shifts, just for a moment, just like the ocean tide. His lip twitches almost into a smile. But he corrects the movement as if he can’t allow himself an indulgence like that.
My heart tugs in my chest. There’s something about his eyes that gets me. I’ve seen them in my dreams. I remember his gravelly voice, the way he said my name, how it made my insides quiver. But then he vanished. I never thought I’d see him again.
He approaches me, moving with the slow confidence of a lion. When he’s close, I can smell his cologne. Manly, musky. Tempting. No—not that. I have to crane my neck to look up at him.
“Maybe you can help me, Lia,” he says.
I swallow. “With what?”
For a crazy moment, I expect him to say something dirty. Something inappropriate. My body pulses as if expecting this, wanting it.
He finally lets himself smirk.
CHAPTER 2
MAKSIM
She licks her lips, waiting for my answer. I’ve told her she can help me. When she asks me what with, her voice grows breathy. I don’t think she even realizes. I can’t help smirking. She’s even more gorgeous in person than on video. I can see the light in her eyes. They move to my mouth, and she smiles.
Suddenly, her gaze locks onto mine.
Was she thinking about my lips, perhaps, kissing me? Just like I’ve thought about kissing her countless times?
A stranger on a screen. A woman whose beauty gripped me with an iron fist the moment I opened my eyes. A woman I’ve done everything in my power to stay away from…
Except coming here. I could’ve told Anton to handle this.
“I’m here for something that belongs to me,” I tell her.
“Oh, right?” she murmurs.
I wonder if she’s thinking—or wishing—I mean her.
Focus, man.
“A phone,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen for a moment. She knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“Are you a federal agent too?” She says cynically.
“A federal agent?” I step closer, aware of how she sucks in an anxious breath. Or maybe it’s excitement. Or a mixture of both. Or, hell, maybe I’m just projecting. “Someone’s been here already?”
She nods. “You’re not with him…” A pause. “That’s a space for you to give me your name, Mike.”
Mike was the name I gave before. She didn’t believe it at the time, rolling her eyes sassily at me.
“Maksim Volkov,” I tell her. No harm now, since I’m here as a civilian and not a patient.
“I’m not with whoever was here before. Whoever they were, they were lying to you. They’ve got no claim to that phone.”
“Why is everyone so interested in it?” she asks.
Because it’s very important. The phone is part of a physical authentication process that slows access to the Volkov files. Gigabytes of material on politicians and business owners. Blackmail, some folk might call it. I’ve never claimed to be a good man.
“It has a scratch on the back,” I tell her. “In the shape of a V.”
“Does it?” she says.
“Go and check,” I tell her. “Then bring it to me.”
“I can’t just give you a patient’s phone. And anyway, it’s not my job.”
She’s right. But from watching her, I know she’s close with the head security guard. He seems like a nice enough man. Decent at his job. But he’s too trusting, and Lia has taken on a sort of guardian role with him. She’s a good person. Far too good for me.
“It’s a custom model, but if you look at the bottom, near the headphone jack, you’ll find a serial number. 8750284.”
She huffs. “Wait here for a moment.”
I smirk again. That ignited my... not obsession.
Infatuation? I don’t know what to call it. Interest. Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.
She turns and walks away. I try not to watch the sway of her hips. She moves confidently. But I’ve seen her quieter moments, alone in the break room or on a night shift, when sadness enters her eyes.
At times like that, I want to reach through the feed and hold her tight to my chest, stroke my hand through her hair, let her know that everything is going to be okay. Even if I should know better.
I take a seat in the waiting room, drumming my fingers against my leg. If Vale gets access to that phone, he won’t be able to access everything. But it’s bad. It would mean we’d lose access until we restructure the whole system. That could take weeks, months. We’d lose millions and, more importantly, the respect of our clients. Conrad, the smug prick, would take over DC.