“Catching up on your reading?”
Cassidy rammed the letter in her pocket and looked up, shielding her eyes against the sun.
Russell stood over her, moving easily with the sway of the deck. He looked like the statue of Rhodes: tall, powerful, and gazing out over the harbor and the world that was his domain. One of the seven wonders of the world.
And he was, in an odd way. Once he’d relaxed a bit, he’d been funny, even charming. But there was none of the false, pickup-line smoothness that she’d heard too many times on too many first dates. Perhaps it was because of their history, it was now too late for that.
“A bit,” she kept her hand on the letter—it felt as if it might jump out and bite her if she didn’t keep it trapped in her pocket.
Russell glanced back at the cockpit. She did too an
