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Conor.
The man I’d been growing closer to for almost two years now had been the one to make me feel these things. To make me shudder with want. To make me wet with need.
The idea shouldn’t have been nerve-wracking, but it was.
Tiredly, I rubbed my eyes before I let my hands drop to my sides then strode over to the cases the servants had unpacked for me while I’d been dealing with my rig.
Because I traveled light, I didn’t have that many wardrobe options, but I dragged on a pair of skinny jeans and a cotton tank that came with in-built tit support.
After I’d used the restroom, I stared at myself in the mirror over the vanity, hands wet as I splashed cold water onto my face.
With no artifice to hide behind, the water stripping me bare, I sighed.
It was me.
No change there.
I forced myself to glance at the reflection of my eyes. There were shadows beneath them, but as always, it was the shadowsinthem that concerned me.
Did I look as dead inside as I felt?
The thought had me glancing away.
I finished washing up, left the bathroom, and returned to the living room which was where I found Conor with his legs cocked on the table, his own computer on his lap, a phone in each hand, a tablet to the side, a smaller laptop next to it. Within easy reach, there were two external mice and a spare keyboard that glowed like a rainbow.
My lips quirked at the sight. “Of course you’d go for the rainbow setting.”
His gaze drifted from his monitor to me. As he spoke, he scanned me, and I swore I felt the path he took as if he’d touched me with his hand. “I like rainbows,” he admitted.
“I’ve seen your office. It’s space age, not hippy.”
“I take my rainbows where I can find them. It’s the Irish in me.” He winked. “I’ve always been on the hunt for that pot of gold.” How he eyed me up and down told me thatIwas the pot of gold. And I wasn’t averse to that imagery. “Anyway, at least I don’t like holo.”
“That’s for Kat,” I joked.
“We can’t all appreciate navy blue and brown,” he chastised, pointing at the leather cases and slip-on pouches from which I’d unpacked my gear.
“I like demure colors,” I retorted.
“Nah, you’re too used to fading into the background for your own good.” He tipped his head to the side as if he were envisioning me in another color. The woman in me wondered which color he’d prefer. The spy didn’t give a fuck—she preferred her ‘fade into the background’ uniform.
“Your phone keeps buzzing,” he informed me, lips twitching as if he knew what I was thinking.
I blinked at the change of subject. Though I was accustomed to that in our chats, it still jolted me when he did it in person. “Probably missed call notifications,” I dismissed.
Walking over to my cell phone, I saw it had gotten enough charge to have switched itself on, then I grimaced when it registered how many times Katina had called.
“Conor…?”
“Call her now,” he ordered softly. “I’m working on some other shit. Take your time.”
I sent him a grateful look and tapped on her name.
She answered within seconds. “STAR!” she screamed before immediately bursting into tears.
The sound tore me to fucking shreds and I regretted falling asleep last night without ringing her beforehand. She should have been my first port of call after I’d finished eating with that fucker who called himself my grandfather.
Not much made me cry anymore. When you’d gone to hell and back, you just adapted to the misery of this existence. But hearing her sob tore at my heartstrings like nothing else could.
