Page 136 of Mile High Ruin

It has nothing to do with the fact that I slept with her. I wanted her, she wanted me, and there was nothing unclear about that by the time we ended up in this room.

The problem is everything surrounding it.

I still don’t know who put the tracker in her bag. I still don’t know who arranged her assignment to my aircraft, whether the timing was coincidence, or there’s more to it. Last night I let myself forget all of that because she was beneath me, touching me, looking at me as though there was nothing in the world she wanted more.

That was irresponsible.

I have survived this long because I don’t confuse desire with trust.

With Sloane, I seem determined to do exactly that.

I look at her again. She appears harmless asleep.

That means nothing. Some of the most dangerous people I have known looked harmless until the moment they were not.

I get out of bed carefully, retrieve my trousers from the floor, and dress without waking her. Before leaving, I pull the sheet higher over her back because the room has cooled during the night. Then I stand there for several seconds, irritated with myself for doing it.

By the time I reach the lower floor, Anton, Marek, and Iosef are already waiting in the smaller dining room beside the study. Iosef has recovered enough from his dramatic hospitalization to look almost normal again, although there’s still a faint pallor beneath his skin and he has a glass of water in front of him instead of coffee.

Marek notices me first. His eyes move over my shirt, then toward the staircase behind me. Then he looks past me again, as though he expects someone else to appear. “Good morning.”

I sit down. “Don’t start with me right now.”

“I only said good morning.”

“You were about to say something else.”

Marek looks wounded. “I’m offended by the assumption.”

Anton opens the folder in front of him.

Iosef doesn’t bother pretending he’s not looking toward the staircase. “What happened here?” he asks, looking around the office. “This room definitely looked more organized yesterday.”

“Nothing that concerns you,” I say coolly.

He smiles. “The housekeeper passed me on the stairs and looked traumatized.”

“She will recover.”

“I hope so.”

Anton exhales. “Can we discuss the actual problem?”

“Yes.”

Iosef reaches for a tablet on the table. “We have found something concerning.”

That removes the humor from the room.

“What?”

“Sloane’s payment for her assignments last month cleared yesterday,” Iosef says, sliding the tablet across the table toward me.

I look at the figure on the screen and frown almost immediately. “What is this?”

“Like I said, the payments for the flights she took.”

“No.”