Hostile Ground by Cara Carnes

Hostile Ground by Cara Carnes

Author:Cara Carnes [Carnes, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heartscape Publishing, LLC


17

Only one of Kristof’s men didn’t pass The Arsenal’s tests. The rest had proven themselves well-trained and took criticism and direction well. Addy was impressed. She wandered onto the back patio of the newest location—a mansion outside Moscow. How the heck did Zoey secure so many locations?

Footsteps behind her warned of someone’s approach. A deep breath offered who. Awareness crawled along her skin and quickened her pulse as Kristof drew to a stop behind her.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said.

She kept her gaze on the setting sun in the distance. “It’s been a long day. Your men did well. You did a good job training them.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Maksim worked with them more than I did.”

Maksim. Gage, Marshall, and Nolan had all challenged him. Though all three had held their own, Maksim had won in the end. Addy had been tempted to offer a challenge of her own, but her body ached from the captivity, and she needed recovery more than anything.

“Your team is playing poker. You should join.”

Addy chuckled as she crossed her arms and propped her left shoulder against the column. “They know better than let me play.”

“You’re a card shark?” Kristof raised his eyebrows. “Interesting. Perhaps I’ll sit in on the next game you play in. I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”

Curiosity roused Addy. “Not sure playing games with you would be good for either of us.”

“There’s only one way to find out.” He stroked her hair. “I think half my men fell in love with you today.”

She smirked. “Only half? I’m losing my touch.”

He cupped her chin. “You were amazing with them. All of you were. I thought…”

“You thought we’d be condescending to them because they aren’t Arsenal,” Addy finished.

“It was a possibility.” He reached into his pocket. “I have a couple of things for you.”

“Oh?”

He took her hand and settled something in her palm. His long fingers moved away as she glanced down. Shock kept her mute. The glass figurine glinted in the patio’s soft lighting when she held it up. Dents and blemishes fanned out along the turtle’s shell, whose head resembled more of a blob.

Emotion clogged her throat. So many vied for control she wasn’t sure what to say or how to react.

“I wouldn’t let myself think about the figurines I had to leave behind for a long time,” she admitted. Their existence was a bond she’d shared with Kristof, their creation born because of rebellion.

“The nights we snuck out so you could go to the old man and learn how to do them are some of my best memories,” he whispered. “As are the nights we spent in the woods, under the stars.”

“Or at the lake,” she said. She looked down at the small turtle figurine. “I was so terrible at this back then.”

“You’ve continued your craft.” It was a statement of fact rather than a question, as if he knew she wouldn’t let the small happiness from that time die.

“Remembering those nights kept…” She huffed out a breath.



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