Salt Kiss (Lyonesse #1)

three

“Ah, my new bodyguard,” says Mark as I’m let into his office by Ms. Lim.

He’s standing up from his chair and his suit jacket is off, thrown over the side of his desk next to a laptop, a folder, and his seemingly perennial glass of vodka or gin on the rocks. The other day on the roof, I saw his proportions under the immaculate tailoring of his suit, but without the jacket, with only the expensive cotton of his button-down shirt, I can see that he’s more than just well shaped. The neat lines of his waist leading into his trousers and the curves of his arms and shoulders are those of a man in his prime.

Goran had showed me a gym here—available for all club guests and employees—but strangely, I can’t picture Mark in it, fussing over the kinds of muscles that are for show. He’d be more into running and calisthenics, maybe. Push-ups in the morning, squats and sit-ups after.