Page 105 of The Eagle's Vault

“Me too, Leigh,” I choked out, feeling the pressure building at the base of my spine.

“Come with me, Declan,” she begged, her body trembling with need.

“Fuck, yes, baby,” I groaned, unable to resist her plea.

Our rhythm intensified, our bodies desperate to reach that peak together. And then, just as we were teetering on the edge, Leigh’s inner walls clenched around me, sending us both spiraling into the abyss of pleasure.

“Declan!” she cried out, her body shuddering beneath mine as the orgasm tore through her.

“Yes, Leigh!” I exploded inside of her, filling her with everything I was.

Together, we rode the waves of ecstasy, our bodies entwined, our breaths coming wildly in unison. As the aftershocks of our climax subsided, I collapsed onto the bed next to her, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. The sweat that coated our bodies cooled on my skin.

“God, Declan,” she sighed, her words a soft, sultry whisper against my ear. “This has been the most amazing couple of weeks of my life.”

“Really?” I would have used a lot of words other than amazing. But considering the thoroughly sated naked woman next to me, maybe amazing should be on the list. “Has it lived up to the fantasy of your trip to Rome?”

She shifted her body to face me, her eyes sparkling with mischief and desire. “I got to have my adventure.” She drew lazy patterns across my chest. “I got to have a wild fling with a man I just met, and—”

I cut her off, crushing my lips against hers, my tongue eagerly seeking entrance into her mouth. Her surprised gasp was all the invitation I needed, and for a moment, we were lost in another kiss.

She was going to say she hadn’t made it to the Trevi Fountain yet.

Instead, I threw her a curveball. I broke our embrace, my body protesting the entire time. “We only have four hours before the jet leaves for home. We need to get going.”

“Wait, what?” Leigh blinked at me, clearly not expecting this sudden change of direction. “What do you mean? Where are we going?”

“Ah!” I grinned at her, drawing out the syllable as I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “That’s a surprise.”

My cock, still semi-hard from our exploits, bobbed slightly as I stood, drawing Leigh’s gaze. She bit her lip and looked up at me, curiosity and anticipation warring in her face.

“Declan,” she purred, her voice taking on that seductive quality that never failed to get a reaction. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and expect me not to press for details.”

“It’s going to be worth it.” I offered her a hand to help her up from the bed. “Trust me?”

UnderTuesday’smiddaysun,I navigated through Rome’s labyrinth of narrow streets, my free hand loosely gripping a cup of creamy pistachio gelato. Leigh walked beside me, a small spoon balanced delicately between her fingers as she took in the ancient buildings that hugged the passageway, her dark eyes sparkling with unspoken admiration.

“You sure about Boston?” she asked, just loud enough for me to hear above the hum of chatter and laughter that filled the air.

I nodded. “With Isaac missing in action, I want to make sure you’re settled. Plus, Barton Safes could use an extra hand.”

We’d discussed the plan on Sunday, when she still couldn’t get hold of Isaac. She’d asked me to confirm at least a half dozen times. “You’d do that? You hardly know me.”

“Reynolds can spare me, and Boston’s close to Halifax. If they need me for a job, they can have me quick enough.” I kept my eyes on the throng of locals and tourists alike, dodging between them.

Leigh trailed behind me for a few steps, when there wasn’t enough space between the café tables on either side of the narrow street. The scents of pizza and tomatoes and basil filled the air as we passed a small table being served.

I paused when the crowd thinned enough for us to walk side-by-side again.

“How often do you do jobs like this one in Rome?”

“Every few months, maybe?” My mind flicked back to the Cassaforte job, the sting of betrayal still fresh. “And most of the time, it’s pretty mundane stuff. Complex jobs like Cassaforte are usually a couple a year.”

“And have you ever been double-crossed like that before?” She raised a slender brow, her focus returning to her raspberry gelato.

I pushed away the lingering taste of pistachio, rolling my eyes upward as I replayed the circus of the past couple of weeks in my head. “It’s a first for me. Betrayed by an old friend, hounded by Ferraro’s goon, and almost buried alive in the Roman catacombs. It’s been one hell of a fortnight.”

“But?” Leigh prodded at her gelato, not eating any of it.

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