The Vulture chief was sitting on the edge of the leather sectional, wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants, his heavily scarred, magnificently muscled back illuminated by the morning sun. He was staring intensely at the eighty-inch flat-screen television on the wall.
Kaya leaned against the doorframe, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Veer was watching a high-definition nature documentary about the Harpy Eagles of the Amazon.
"Their dive trajectory is sloppy," Veer muttered to himself, critiquing the massive bird on the screen. He leaned closer, his golden eyes tracking the eagle's movements. "They brake too early. If you tuck the primary feathers until the last three seconds, the kinetic impact is doubled. Amateurs."
Kaya laughed softly, walking up behind him and wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. She pressed a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades.
''"You're critiquing the local wildlife again, Mr. Vance?"'' Kaya murmured.
