The next morning, Hadley slipped into her heels, then grabbed her coat and handbag.
While she loved her apartment in the Sentinel Security warehouse in New York, she sometimes missed her London flat. She’d kept it and occasionally rented it out for short-stay accommodation. She’d kept it mostly so she had a place to stay when she visited, and didn’t have to stay with her parents in their stuffy Mayfair mansion.
Her gaze swept over the open-plan kitchen and living area, with lots of white marble, and her own personal touches.
But the decor couldn’t compete with the view. The apartment was in a tower at St. George’s Wharf, perched right on the Thames. London was laid out before her. She picked out a few landmarks: Vauxhall Bridge down below, the wheel of the London Eye in the distance. Then her gaze fell on to the white-and-green building that housed the SIS Headquarters, more commonly known as MI6. Once her old stomping ground. It almost looked like a temple, and she’d heard the designer had been inspired by Mayan and Aztec temples.
Well, it was only a six-minute walk, but she needed to get moving so she wasn’t late for the meeting with Killian and her old boss, David Farrell.
She slipped on her cashmere coat and headed for the elevator.
After a quick walk in the drizzling rain along the gloomy Thames, she passed through security, and found Killian waiting for her.
“Sleep all right after last night’s excitement?” He held out a takeout coffee for her.
“You are the best boss in the world.” She took it gratefully and sipped. It was her favorite. A caramel latte. “I slept fine.”
After giving statements to the police, she and Killian had finally left the party.
Bennett had still been there, trying to work out why his employee had threatened the party with a fake bomb. Unfortunately, the young man had been hysterical, and not making much sense.
She hoped Knightley had gotten it sorted. She took another sip of coffee. Bennett Knightley was a man who could take care of himself. He didn’t need her worrying about him.
The man was rich and powerful. She knew from experience men like that could make their problems disappear. Her father was a master at it.
Still, Knightley wore the devil-may-care, billionaire persona well, but his tough, rangy body didn’t hide what he was—a warrior. He was all muscle, and there was a touch of rough around the edges of his tailored suits. He didn’t even wear an expensive watch. He wore a simple, battered smartwatch. You could take the man out of the Army, but you couldn’t take the Army out of the man.
She worked with an entire team of badasses, and Killian was the king of them. He was a man who was always assessing, always ready for a threat, always ready for a fight.
Bennett Knightley was exactly the same. He’d had her back last night, been one step behind her.
It just added to the attractive package.
So the guy had a rugged face, strong jaw, and piercing hazel eyes. She took another hurried sip of her latte. She could see the attraction, she wasn’t blind. But that was it.
Okay, fine. She was reluctantly attracted to him. Any woman would be. But she didn’t act on every attraction she felt.
Sex was sex. Relationships were a dangerous minefield. Getting into something with a man required trust, and she found that most men were not worthy of hers. The foreign agent who’d fooled her, then betrayed her, hadn’t been. God, she’d been naïve.
The only people she excluded from that were Killian and her workmates. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel a burning urge to shag any of them.
But you’d do a certain billionaire in a heartbeat, a tiny voice in her head whispered.
She almost missed a step.
“Okay?” Killian asked.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. Wearing high heels is a hazard you’ll never have to worry about.”
“Thank fuck.”
They walked down the hall to a familiar door. How many times had she walked into her old boss’ office? With new intel, before a mission, to get permission for surveillance, or to hand in a report.
“Miss it?”
She glanced at Killian. “No, I don’t.” She loved Sentinel Security, and she’d needed to change. “You?”
He’d been a legend at the CIA. Hell, in the entire international intelligence community. Killian “Steel” Hawke was a name that put terror in the eyes of some people.