The Exchange Part 1 Read Online Free Page A

Dr. Allen. I had expected her to.
    Instead, she spent the first twenty minutes of our ride to the airport staring out
     the window and fidgeting with her hands.
    Clark turns on the lights for two seconds, searching for his cell phone. He turns
     them off, leaving us in the dark once more.
    Her nails are painted pink. They match the goth teddy bear on her bag. The contrast
     between her nails and her dark clothing intrigues me.
    Light and dark.
    It reminds me of a badass rocker chic. Or in this case, bad ass punk chic.
    I pretend to work on my tablet, but in reality, I’m staring at her out of the corner
     of my eye. Her thick hair obscures her profile.
    The highways leading toward the airport are sparsely lit and empty at this time of
     night. 
    My eyes remain focused on a single thing.
    Black and blue.
    I like it. Seen it before but never paid much attention to it. On her, though, it’s
     different.
    She’s different from the girl I believed I was picking up.
    The black and blue of her hair combined with her gold-green eyes and almost pale skin — Damn. It’s sexy.
    No, fuck that. She’s sexy.  So attractive to me that I’m having a hard time dealing with it.
    Admitting that to myself does not help my situation. At all.
    She moves, lifting her bag off the floor.
    Curiosity has me alert. I shift as subtly as possible, sitting straighter. First,
     she pulls out a book. I squint to catch the title. “The Birth of the Mind—How a Tiny Number of Genes Creates the Complexities of Human
     Thought.”
    My eyes widen and that blasted curiosity expands. There’s a bookmark tucked about
     a quarter of the way into the book.
    My heart pounds. It seems to be multiplied by the eerie quiet of the vehicle. She
     reaches back into the bag and pulls out her cellphone and a small book light. The
     light is clipped to the book, headphones are slid into her ears, and she starts playing
     music on her phone.
    By the time she turns on the small book lamp and begins reading, I find myself battling
     back annoyance.
    She’s shut the world out.
    I’ve been shut out.
    And I don’t like it. Not one bit.
    When did you turn into such a whiny bitch, Deimos? You have your own shit to take
     care of. True. I can’t start looking into her while she’s sitting next to me, but I have other
     things that need my attention.
    I’m tempted to try running another scan on her body.
    Hah. Yeah right. She’d block it, and she’d be inside me again.
    I shift at the thought, my cock stirring in my pants. Shit. Am I turned on by the
     thought of having her inside my systems?
    My cock twitches and my eyes are drawn to the girl. I want this sexy little thing
     next to me.
    I’ve been far from celibate recently, and yet, I want this girl in a way I haven’t
     wanted someone in a long time. Which is why you’re going to get back to work and ignore her unless necessary.
    Right. Good plan. Probably isn’t going to be as easy as it sounds but what else can
     I do? She is my cargo. The fucking mission. I pick her up, protect her en route, and
     deliver her to her father. End of story.
    “Please help her.”
    Crap. I’d forgotten about that.
    Frustrated, I log onto my email, determined to ignore this shit situation I find myself
     in as much as possible.
     
     

 
     

     
     
     
     
    YOU KNOW WHAT'S PATHETIC? When you realize that—at twenty-eight years old—you've never
     watched a woman sleep. Weird thought right? There’s been so many of them in the last
     few hours that I stopped questioning them. I'm not getting any answers, and Einstein
     wasn't lying when he gave us the definition of insanity.
    It's now almost 4AM and we’ve pulled into the airport's parking lot. Clark is already
     out of the car. Gage and the rest of the team as well. They're all standing outside,
     waiting.
    I'm still inside, leaning back on the door. Watching. Studying.
    Fascinated.
    I've been a soldier since the age of seventeen. It's been an eleven-year, 24-7 career