Page 16 of A Touch of Frost
Frost didn’t dress like most women—black jeans, a black hoodie under a black leather jacket with a black skull on the back. She had black combat boots laced up tightly, and there wasn’t a bit of makeup on her face, except lip gloss.
She’d tied her hair up in a sensible ponytail, exposing her neck.
I wondered how angry she’d be if I leaned in and pressed a kiss against the skin.
Shit. Calm down, Jesse Ackert.
Breathe…
Her voice was a form of low growl as if she rarely used it—I trembled. The way she spoke to Mozart told me she was angry, yet she never once raised her voice. Every word was measured and necessary.
When she turned serious green eyes at me, it was to give me a slow once-over.
She didn’t like or trust me and Frost made no attempt at hiding what she felt about me.
I could immediately tell.
She regarded me the same way a lioness did a gazelle right before going for the throat.
We sat around trying to hash out a plan. I wasn’t familiar with this kind of talk. Military and strategies were never my thing. In the end, Frost took the ropes. It wasn’t entirely a full plan, but it was better than what we had before.
“I’m staying.” I declared.
Frost glared at me.
“He’s my brother.” I snapped. “And yes, Mozart trusts you, but a bunch of your guys left Paul behind to die, so forgive me if I don’t feel a hundred percent about you.”
“Listen, shit for brains—” She whirled on me.
“Frost.” Mozart’s voice was soft, soothing.
Her shoulders rose and fell.
It wasn’t hard to tell she wasn’t a fan of my declaration. The rage in her eyes threatened to burn me alive. For the first time in my life, I was happy looks couldn’t, in fact, kill.
But my brother’s life was in danger. The truth was, I wanted someone to blame for that.
“Keep up.” She growled in my direction. “If you slow me down, or get in my way, I’ll shoot you.”
Mozart exhaled while glaring at me. “Can I talk to you—outside—please?”
Frost lounged in her seat while I straightened my body and followed Mozart through the house and out into the backyard. When I reached him, the soldier was staring out over the view, his back tense. I cleared my throat even though I knew he didn’t need that to tell him I was there.
Mozart turned to me. I’d known him long enough to know he was in a mood.
“Stay out of her way.” He warned.
“Now you want me to trust her after what they did to my brother?”
“First of all, your brother wasn’t ordered to take this mission.” Mozart stepped forward to growl at me. “He knew the risks.”
“Are you saying this is Paul’s fault?”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.” Mozart snapped. “Frost is doing me a favour. You’ve seen what I had to do to get her to help. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t make me regret this. If you do, you won’t have to worry about her shooting you.”
I frowned and ignored his veiled threat. “Regret it? How?”
“I could lose her.”
