“The best missions are the ones where you have the most intel. The more information you have, the greater your chance of success. You’ve got to have patience, Georgie.”
I rose and quickly headed for the bathroom to freshen up. I pulled on a pair of jeans and my favorite red T-shirt with a V-neck. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and studied my face. My bruises were so much better. The ugly yellow was fading, and I only had a small patch of dark bruising under my eye. All of it was easily covered by makeup now. My toes curled.
I was counting down the minutes until Nash touched me again.
He hadn’t since that hot moment in the store room, with his mouth between my legs. I shivered, tingles running over my skin.
It had been the best orgasm of my life.
I wanted him. I wanted to explore that hard body of his. I breathed in a sharp breath. But I couldn’t let myself get too attached. I had to tread very carefully.
In the living area, I saw a note propped on the kitchen island.
There’s a protein shake in the fridge. Drink it.
I rolled my eyes. Even his writing sounded bossy.
I’m in the greenhouse.
He was here. My heart did a little dance in my chest. I pulled out the protein drink and poured it into a glass. I tasted berries and banana and mango. As I drank it, I wandered the living room. Nash had loads of books. The shelves were filled with varying genres—from non-fiction to thrillers. I’d spent some time reading a new crime thriller the last few days. I ran my fingers over the spines. I found the photo frame I’d discovered yesterday, tucked away at the end of the shelf. Elliot and Nash, both in their Navy uniforms, smiling at the camera. So young. They’d thought themselves invincible, that they had their entirelives ahead of them. I gently touched my brother’s face. It was the only photo Nash had. I set the frame down and turned.
I’d also learned Nash loved action movies—something we shared. We’d watched the latest Jason Statham movie last night.
I’d found it hilarious that the actor was playing a retired assassin. Nash had grumpily picked it apart while I’d giggled.
I thought all I wanted, or that I could feel, was my need for vengeance. To avenge Viv’s death.
But Nash had changed that. He was taking care of me, in more ways than one.
He was willing to kill for me.
He was making me want things I shouldn’t.
I needed to see him. I drank the last of the protein shake and rinsed the glass in the sink. Then, barefoot, I went to find him.
It was another cool, wintery Las Vegas day. The air was fresh and the sun hid behind clouds. I followed the path to the greenhouse and moved quickly across the cool concrete. I opened the glass door and got hit by humidity and rich scents.
I pushed through the greenery and saw him. I jerked to a stop, my heart kicking against my ribs.
He was wearing jeans and no shirt. It was my favorite look on him. He was leaning over a plant, the muscles in his back flexing, and denim cupping his muscular ass.
God. I thought I’d understood desire. I’d had sex in the past, and thought it had been good sex.
Clearly, I had no clue. The depth of the heat that Nash made me feel was all-consuming.
His head whipped around, and he smiled. “Morning.”
I cleared my throat. “Hey. How are your orchids?”
“Doing well.”
“Do you sing to them?” I teased, wandering closer.
“No,” he answered gruffly.
I really wanted to touch him, but instead, clasped my hands together.
“How do you feel today?” he asked.
