Until Death Do We Part (Sex and Vows #1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Fiona Davenport
Tags: romantic suspense, alpha male romance
couple of hours.” I winked at her, and she smiled sleepily. She looked so fuckable right at that moment. I started to back away, having a firm talk with myself about letting her sleep and getting my ass to work.
It was hard (pun definitely intended), but I managed to tear myself away and go take a shower before putting on a suit and heading to my home office. I realized my briefcase was still in the kitchen so I quickly went to retrieve it.
With my cover job as a contracts attorney, a big portion of my paperwork was extremely confidential and lucky for me, my wife understood the sensitive nature of what was in my briefcase and didn’t ever attempt to see inside. Of course, she had no idea how truly sensitive the contents were.
Evie and I each had our own home office, designed by us personally. When we were building our house, I worked with an architect on The Company payroll to have a walk-in safe covertly installed. In the back of my closet, there appeared to be a small wall safe. However, when unlocked, the entire wall slid into a pocket, opening up into a combination of a SCIF room and vault for my personal arsenal.
Shutting my office door, I hit a button to turn on a low murmur, so from the hall, it sounded as though I was on a call. Then, I headed to the safe and punched in the code, entering and setting my briefcase on a table in the center of the room. I hit the combination to release the catch and it sprang open. The case held my Beretta 9mm and my Sig P226, as well as an extra clip for each magazine. It also had some other small gadget weapons and a compartment for my identity papers and cash.
The identity papers inside were still good, so I stowed them away and grabbed a new passport, driver’s license, and a variety of banknotes for several countries, not knowing where my next assignment would be. I refilled both magazines and clips, grabbed a boot knife, and a few other ‘toys,’ before locking up and heading to my car.
I slipped inside my Aston Martin and chuckled, shaking my head like I did every time I got into my car. I wasn’t happy with Evie’s choice of vehicle, it worried me over her safety. But, what I’d never admit to her, is seeing her in it was an incredible turn on. She had a wild side most people didn’t get to see and it was sexy as fuck.
I begrudgingly accepted her choice and the matter was settled. Then, on our first anniversary, I found James Bond’s car sitting in my driveway. It was equal parts joke and a thank you for backing down over the car issue. Though the real joke was lost on her, giving her spy husband the same car driven by the ultimate covert agent.
I left the house and drove to an office building downtown, parking in the garage underneath. The structure housed several law offices, some legit, and others a front for offices of clandestine operations.
On the first floor, I flashed a badge for Webster, Shaw & Associates before entering the elevator behind the reception desk. It only took a minute after hitting the down button for the car to stop and the doors slid silently open to reveal a large room full of desks and computers. As usual, there was a low buzz of noise from my co-workers chatting, strategizing, and computers humming.
“Justice.”
I turned and saw Colin walking up to me, his hand outstretched. I grasped it and returned the greeting with his code name. “Outrigger. What are you doing here? I thought you were on a long-term, covert assignment in India.”
Colin was an American citizen, but he’d been raised in England and was permanently stationed there a few years before. I’d still worked with him on several missions until he went dark. All I knew was the assignment was in India, but the details were kept classified.
He let go of my hand and grimaced. “My cover was blown and I lost the target. They brought me back to brief you on the situation before they send you on a retrieval.”
Retrieval missions were pretty straight
It was hard (pun definitely intended), but I managed to tear myself away and go take a shower before putting on a suit and heading to my home office. I realized my briefcase was still in the kitchen so I quickly went to retrieve it.
With my cover job as a contracts attorney, a big portion of my paperwork was extremely confidential and lucky for me, my wife understood the sensitive nature of what was in my briefcase and didn’t ever attempt to see inside. Of course, she had no idea how truly sensitive the contents were.
Evie and I each had our own home office, designed by us personally. When we were building our house, I worked with an architect on The Company payroll to have a walk-in safe covertly installed. In the back of my closet, there appeared to be a small wall safe. However, when unlocked, the entire wall slid into a pocket, opening up into a combination of a SCIF room and vault for my personal arsenal.
Shutting my office door, I hit a button to turn on a low murmur, so from the hall, it sounded as though I was on a call. Then, I headed to the safe and punched in the code, entering and setting my briefcase on a table in the center of the room. I hit the combination to release the catch and it sprang open. The case held my Beretta 9mm and my Sig P226, as well as an extra clip for each magazine. It also had some other small gadget weapons and a compartment for my identity papers and cash.
The identity papers inside were still good, so I stowed them away and grabbed a new passport, driver’s license, and a variety of banknotes for several countries, not knowing where my next assignment would be. I refilled both magazines and clips, grabbed a boot knife, and a few other ‘toys,’ before locking up and heading to my car.
I slipped inside my Aston Martin and chuckled, shaking my head like I did every time I got into my car. I wasn’t happy with Evie’s choice of vehicle, it worried me over her safety. But, what I’d never admit to her, is seeing her in it was an incredible turn on. She had a wild side most people didn’t get to see and it was sexy as fuck.
I begrudgingly accepted her choice and the matter was settled. Then, on our first anniversary, I found James Bond’s car sitting in my driveway. It was equal parts joke and a thank you for backing down over the car issue. Though the real joke was lost on her, giving her spy husband the same car driven by the ultimate covert agent.
I left the house and drove to an office building downtown, parking in the garage underneath. The structure housed several law offices, some legit, and others a front for offices of clandestine operations.
On the first floor, I flashed a badge for Webster, Shaw & Associates before entering the elevator behind the reception desk. It only took a minute after hitting the down button for the car to stop and the doors slid silently open to reveal a large room full of desks and computers. As usual, there was a low buzz of noise from my co-workers chatting, strategizing, and computers humming.
“Justice.”
I turned and saw Colin walking up to me, his hand outstretched. I grasped it and returned the greeting with his code name. “Outrigger. What are you doing here? I thought you were on a long-term, covert assignment in India.”
Colin was an American citizen, but he’d been raised in England and was permanently stationed there a few years before. I’d still worked with him on several missions until he went dark. All I knew was the assignment was in India, but the details were kept classified.
He let go of my hand and grimaced. “My cover was blown and I lost the target. They brought me back to brief you on the situation before they send you on a retrieval.”
Retrieval missions were pretty straight
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