The Blonde Identity

by Ally Carter

Here’s the thing about waking up with no memory in the middle of the night, in the middle of the street, in the middle of Paris: at least you’re waking up in Paris.

She thought about giving him a little more space but didn’t. Because when cuddling with a hot guy is a matter of life and death, you just go with it.

“You won. And nothing on this earth is sexier than a woman who told death to fuck off.”

Dress zipping, not so much, evidently. He was looking at her like he’d never even seen a woman’s back before.

“You have multiple firearms, and rose petals scared you?”

“Did you just break an assassin’s nose with a telephone?” Her eyes were wide. “I think so?” He absolutely beamed. “Good girl.”

“Don’t you know? Sometimes villains make the best heroes.”

“Then, lady, I’m the hero of your dreams.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

Sawyer found the gun, but he didn’t see his sanity anywhere.

All she has to do is come in from the cold.

“You save me. And I save you. We’re a mutual saving society,”