The King (Gentlemen Rogues 2) - Page 16

He was a grade hacker with a photographic memory, sharp wit, and the kind of smile that made people, especially women, want to take care of him. But the Rogues had busted him and brought him here because they were in need of a hacker, a good one, and Rook was thriving.

Then there was Saint. He was affable. A real mate to me. Former SAS. But there was something about him that was hidden away, a part of himself he never showed.

Saffron was standing in front of Rook with her head cocked, braid sliding over one shoulder as she tilted her head, studying her next victim.

Saint leaned over. “You keep looking at her like you want to eat her, and Gabe will have your head."

I shook my head. “I don't want to eat her. I want to know why she hates me. She's just a trainer, that's it."

Saint chuckled. “Yeah, if you say so."

I slid my gaze over to him and saw that he wore several of Saffron Abott’s strike marks too. Across his shirt, through his arms. She'd given him the essence of a Columbian necktie, slashed from ear to ear and down under his chin to his sternum. Fucking hell.

Saint lifted his chin. “Yeah, she's savage. Why do you reckon she's not in the field?"

I shook my head. "She's certainly good enough, deadly enough, probably. And somebody told me she wanted to be a field agent, but she’s always held back in some kind of way. There is a restraint in her."

“Eyes off her arse, mate, if you like your balls where they are. Webb will castrate you.”

I scowled over at Gabriel Webb. He was in charge of the Rogues Division and gave the final word on which of us were graduating to field status, which of us didn't make the cut and were headed home, and which of us were getting retraining. He was the man in charge.

The whistle blew again, and I was surprised to see Rook mostly on his feet. He looked at Saffron and grinned. “I'm alive."

She angled her head and shook it. "Not quite. You might want to check your back."

He groaned and turned his back to me. "Mate, tell me it's not so bad."

There was a slash mark from the back of his neck all the way down along his spine. I winced. "Aw mate, you might live, but you won't be able to walk."

He cursed.

Saffron shrugged. "Each of you made a mistake with me. Especially you, King."

I liked her calling me King. She could be my queen. And we could—

I slammed those mental images down, because shit, they were too vivid. Ever since I'd met her, I kept having these mental flashbacks. Vivid dreams of me and her in my flat and combusting in the damn sheets, over and over. And obviously it wasn't real. Because, well, she hated me. Besides, I'd never met her before coming here, so I knew my overactive imagination was going wild and getting in the way.

"What do you mean, especially me?"

“You hesitated. Your gaze was on my tits."

I heard Saint chuckle. Rook just laughed out loud. And Gabe scowled. Of course, he scowled.

“I was just looking for the best angle to strike at."

She rolled her eyes and turned to Saint. “You pulled your punches."

He frowned. “You're smaller than I am. I'm happy to spar, but I just don't want to hurt you."

“Yeah, and you died for it. As for you," she turned her attention to Rook, “You played it well. You played dirty. You're inventive, but you underestimated me."

He grunted and nodded.

"The three of you need to realize that out in the field the enemy could look like a twelve-year-old girl. You don't know the scenarios you're walking into. You've had accelerated training, and some of you will need more. Some of you will become field agents, but if we put you out in the field, you can't do what you did today.

I ground my teeth, glancing at Gabe as he jotted notes down. He gave us all a sharp nod and then dismissed us. Across the room, I watched our other evaluator, the curvy redhead, Tabatha Smith. The lads on that side of the room were having an even more difficult time. There was one female trainee though, and she didn't seem to have that issue. She was out for blood, and Jesus, she was a killer. Had no problem going after Tabatha.

Tabatha was smaller, quicker, and obviously, more trained, but her trainee was giving her a run for her money. Which was good, since all the men were distracted by her. We were going to have to check our misogyny if we wanted to pass this bullshit. If I wanted to go home, I was going to have to get it together.

Tags: Nana Malone Gentlemen Rogues Romance
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