Page 15 of Polestar
“Too damned hot in here,” Magnus grunted.
“Yeah, cuz it’s not minus sixty-two in Ireland,” Connor said.“But I believe you’re right, Ms.Burns.”
“Leaving in ten minutes,” Magnus said, rising from the chair he’d barely occupied.“Don’t be late.”
“Fastest way to get on his bad side,” Connor said to Ortega.“Stickler for punctuality.
“Oh, I know that already.I, uhm…was an hour late getting to the plane to come here.”
“Huh, and you’re here all in one piece.No chew marks or limbs missing.”Connor’s gaze flicked between Magnus and Ortega.“Ah, but then, you’re cute.”
Magnus stalked toward the door, growling, “Don’t be late.”
Burns’ laughter followed him out.
FIVE
Theyrodetotheport in the same car she’d arrived in the day before.
Ana sat in the backseat with Raya.From her vantage point, she studied Bjornson’s profile.
Pilot.Driver.Polar bear shifter.
Magnus had tied his long blond hair back in a French braid, exposing tattoos adorning the side of his neck below his hairline and behind his bearded jaw, disappearing below the collar of his leather jacket.
She couldn’t see which vintage grunge band was on his t-shirt today.
What is that cologne he uses?
She blinked, turning her face away from her temporary teammate, toward the passenger window.
Focus, Ana.It doesn’t matter what he smells like.He’s your colleague and you have work to do.Do your job, crush the trafficking ring, and go back to your desk in California.
Her gaze drifted back.She couldn’t recall the images that had flashed through her mind when they’d touched, when she’d been too distracted to close herself up.
Just the vision of whiteness before she’d passed out.
Her cheeks flamed.
I can’t believe I passed out like that.Or the stupid things I said right before.
Awkward start.It was the fever.
She nodded to herself.
Yes, just an awkward start.Set it aside and don’t be weird about it.
Resuming her gaze out the window, the port came into view.
Stacked containers hid the body of the ship, but the tower was unmistakable.
At one time, she’d been fascinated with ships of all kinds, because Antony had been a sailor and loved all things water-going.
Not anymore.
I hate this.
Her fingers flexed over her thighs as she rubbed her palms along the fabric of her pants.
