Chapter 5
I slipped the seat belt on and looked around.
I must say, first class really made the prospect of a four-hour flight so much better.
As soon as the plane took off, I pulled out my iPad.
Philly always put together a dossier for me for each job, downloading every article, social media post and piece of intel she could find.
As I started reading, my spy senses immediately began to tingle.
Red flags. Everywhere. The biggest one? That missing Picasso.
Never retrieved, yet conveniently insured.
Victor Langdon must’ve got a massive payout from that little ‘theft’.
A staged robbery was easier to pull off than you’d think.
And then there were all those shiny diamonds.
In my experience, most people selling diamonds on that kind of scale were either sourcing them illegally or using them to launder money. Probably both.
I tried to concentrate, but the sudden sound of a wailing baby was making it impossible.
Crying babies had never elicited a maternal instinct in me.
As a child, I hadn’t played with dolls; I’d been too busy solving mysteries.
I’d preferred hidden clues, paper trails, puzzles.
I suppose that was what led me to study criminology and then to go on to the police academy.
I’d wanted to become a powerful female detective, like the ones from my favourite TV shows.
I’d had this romanticised notion that I would become a South African version of a CIA operative or FBI agent, tracking down serial killers with crazy MOs and great names, like .
. . the Cuticle Collector, a killer who trimmed their victims’ cuticles and collected them in jars.
But the whole police detective fantasy didn’t exactly turn out as planned.
I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat as an image of Cam popped into my head.
Why was it that the people you loathed the most happened to be the hottest?
And Cam was certainly hot, not to mention amazing in bed too.
Prior to that one night with him, I’d always believed that multiple orgasms had been a myth.
They were not. That man had reduced me to a simpering puddle of dopamine overload.
Maybe that was why I’d allowed myself to be so vulnerable with him; it was surely the only reason I’d found myself lying in the arms of my biggest rival at the police academy experiencing feelings I normally never allowed myself to feel.
Cam had always been my stiffest competition at college.
One day I would win something, and the next day he would.
We bounced back and forth from first in the class to second so many times, fellow pupils and instructors started taking bets on who was going to triumph in a particular activity.
And come final year, we were both vying for the top spot.
Whoever won, whichever cadet came top of the class, got a golden ticket.
First pick of precincts, shifts and specialisations.
A better training officer, all in all, someone on a faster and much smoother track to becoming what we so desperately wanted to become, detectives.
So when the final exercise of the year came up, I was more than determined to win.
Especially because it meant beating Cam, and I hated losing, particularly to him.
The exercise in question was a gauntlet-type thing.
A maze designed to simulate high-pressure real-world situations, complete with hostile suspects, random hazards and surprise emergencies.
No one knew what it would look like, so you were flying blind.
Relying on your instincts and training alone.
In the end, Cam crossed the finish line first, and I walked out with second place and a bitterness that ran deep.
But that night, because I’d been called out so many times over the years for not being a team player, I decided I was going to do the noble thing.
I’d shown up at his door, struggling to even think the words let alone force them past my reluctant lips.
Well done, you deserve it. Probably the hardest phrase I was ever going to attempt to utter out loud in my entire life.
But the minute he opened the door, all the tension from the past two years at the academy snapped.
One second I was trying to shake his hand; the next my hands were all over his body.
That had been at exactly 2.20 a.m. I still remember the precise time, because for the next six hours I don’t think I’d ever been happier; that is until it all abruptly ended at 8.
20. Because it was at that moment that I found the tiny piece of paper that changed everything.
Changed the course of my entire life and career, and further cemented in my heart what I already knew about men and relationships.
The baby cried again, and this was followed by a very audible disgruntled huffing sound from the seat across the aisle.
I looked over to the man sitting there and we shared a small conspiratorial eye-roll, followed by a disapproving head-shake that said, Urgh, babies!
I had to admit, the man was rather gorgeous.
He had the most piercing blue eyes, which unfortunately made me start thinking of Cam’s eyes again.
The eyes I’d stared into as he’d picked me up like I was a leaf, pinned me against the wall and fucked me into oblivion.
I tried to shake that image out of my head.
Dwelling on Cam always led to dark places.
The pilot’s voice came crackling through the intercom telling us we had just started our descent.
I looked out the window, and the glistening blue sight beneath me took my breath away.
The most brilliant turquoise sea I’d ever seen, dotted with tiny islands.
If I wasn’t on a job, I thought, I might actually enjoy myself here.
When was the last time I’d been on vacation?
The answer was: not in many, many years.
I’d been so busy building my business that things like vacations and weekends off had fallen by the wayside.
I put my iPad away and readied myself for landing. It was smooth, but as soon as I stepped off the plane, I was hit in the face by a wall of humidity. It was like being slapped by a wet towel. I tugged at my collar, mentally cursing the blazer I’d chosen to wear.