You’re not like them. You’re my McSailor.”A soft touch made him smile, thinking of Bonnie, before he realized it was Innochka’s hand stroking his face. The touch of a mobster’s girlfriend. He leaped back, still...

Grant glanced down at his khaki jacket. Since he’d slipped on the US Navy uniform in Agent Bounter’s office, he’d felt a confident swagger possess him. His spine lengthened, and his shoulders retracted. He should’ve...

Never dilute vodka. Is sin.

The Russians are on the radar. It’s time.”As Bounter turned to pick up the tiny button-size microphone, Grant clenched his hands into fists, his anticipation building.It’s time.

Crude. You’re crude, roomie.

His voice as smooth as silk, Grant started into his standard crowd-pleaser: Sinatra’s ‘My Kind of Town.

Sexy, sexy veggies. You two need to go on lots of dates together.

You judge, Madsen. Not cool.

Um, h-h-hi,” Sophie stammered, closing the door behind her. Meeting her gaze were crystal eyes like blue shards of glass.

I’m glad I went to prison,” Grant rasped in Sophie’s ear, so quietly only she could hear. “Because then I found you.