Chapter 20

I raised an eyebrow at the pale pink tiles and the wallpaper covered with tiny flowers the same color. “Kind of girly, don’t you think?”

“I’m a girl, if you hadn’t noticed.” She did that lash-fluttering thing again. Jesus, she was going to start a windstorm.

“I do like the pedestal sink.” I didn’t say it was because it reminded me of that hotel in Paris where I’d first taken Pete de Becque, when I’d thought the Division cold op was a hustler.