Sunday. Safe House. St. Petersburg, Russia.
FELECIA SAT DOWN AT a desk someone had pulled into one of the inner rooms away from windows and doors. She knew without looking that Evan was in the corner behind her, just to her left. They hadn't said much since breakfast.
What did she say to the man? What was she supposed to feel or think?
It wasn't news to her that men cut from the same cloth as Evan were the kind of white knight men who wanted to play the hero. She could tell that just looking at him. Evan had a kind face despite the way his eyes seemed to peel back her layers. What was remarkable was Evan's awareness. Most men just didn't understand situations like he did. At least not in Felecia's limited experience.
Who was she kidding?
She had next to no experience.
The fuzzy telev
