"What else don't I know about you?”
My pulse kicks up. She's not retreating. She's pushing in.
I laugh. "You want all my secrets."
"No, but maybe I just want to know who the fuck I'm trusting with my life."
"You don't trust me." I let my gaze drop to her mouth, then back up.
Her eyes flash, and for a second I think she's going to keep pushing, but then she steps back, shaking her head.
"Fine," she says. "Keep your secrets. I don't care."
But she does, and if I'm honest, I kind of want her to.
She turns back to the photographs, her shoulders straighten, her mask sliding back into place. "Anyway, I'm going to bed, soldier," she says and salutes me.
She moves past me, heading for the door.
I turn to follow, but she stops in the doorway, glancing back at me.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asks.
"Regret what?"
"All of it. The things you've done in your line of work let's call it.”
I hold her gaze.
"No."
She nods slowly, as if she expected that answer. "Good night, Octavian."
Then she's gone.
I watch as she walks down the hall to her room and shuts the door. I stand alone in the hallway for a moment and swear I can still smell her on me even though she didn't touch me.
After a few minutes, I turn and walk down the hall.
Time to do the job Callum asked.
I slip into the car and start it. Keira's voice lingers, Do you ever regret it?
No. I don't.
But maybe I should.
12
KEIRA
God, this conference call is dragging.
"…and if we push back the floral install window by two hours, that should give catering enough time to complete staging," Jillian says, her voice crackling through the speakerphone. "Does that work for you, Keira?"
"Mm-hm," I hum, barely listening. "That's fine. Just remember, the centerpieces need to be orchids this year, not roses. I was very specific about that."
There's some back and forth with people on the call, and I listen.
