Page 11 of Polestar
Magnus was used to women who had a powerful presence, could hold their own on a physical level, and wouldn’t fly away with a sneeze.
But, if he was honest with himself, as he usually was, he grudgingly admired her stubborn determination to handle those ridiculous suitcases herself.
Adorable.
And those dimples…when she actually smiled.
Magnus snorted and turned his back to the water stream.
Despite her tantrum, she’d never acted as though anyone ought to serve her.Quite the opposite.He attributed the poor behavior to fear and fever right before she passed out.
He frowned, recalling Burns’ words again.
What the hell does that even mean?
He shook away the thought after trying to reconcile the weird statement with the pretty round face, pert little nose over full, pillowy lips.
Soft.
He was sure of it.
He grunted away the thought, glanced down and sighed, noting the erection that told him just how soft he thought Ortega’s lips were.
That wouldn’t do.
He faced the hot stream again and cranked the faucet, blasting himself with frigid water.
No.That wouldn’t do at all.
FOUR
Anaperchedontheedge of an elegant, silk-embroidered chair stuffed with horsehair, in the most luxurious eighteenth-century library she’d ever been in.
Barely aware she was present, Jolena Kane and Jack Maeda still argued by the floor-to-ceiling French doors overlooking a rolling green that ended some distance away at a dark band of woods.Their coffees, in hand, were also forgotten except to use as emphasis on certain points.
Ana sighed and sipped her own drink.By now, they were on their third iteration of the same debate.Apparently, they’d forgotten her, too, despite her being summoned almost as soon as she’d closed the door to her room after hauling her suitcases in.
Two full-sized suitcases.What was she thinking?
I panicked.
With nothing else to do, she carried on in the theme of the moment and ignited an internal argument with herself over every moment since Carson Perenga’s call woke her with the word ‘Iceland’.
She shivered and sipped more of her hot coffee.
To a lifelong California girl, images of Iceland evoked frigid, barren landscapes of rock, snow, and ice.Sure, the northern lights would be pretty, but the light show wasn’t worth the risk of frostbite.
So, she’d packed almost everything she had in her closet that could be considered colder weather wear.That done, she reminded herself that the routine was to be summoned to your superior’s office for a briefing, settled into a hotel to review the file and freshen up before getting to work the following morning.
Pretty much like what was happening now.Here, in Ireland.Not Iceland.
Not for her, just yet, anyhow.
“Look, we were barely able to squeak that ship out of territorial waters before their coast guard arrived,” Kane said to Maeda.
“Perenga and McLachlan know what they’re doing.They can handle themselves in the deep-sea sectors.It’s Ortega I’m worried about.”
Ana’s gaze snapped to the director.He scowled at Kane, his superior.
