Trouble

Reid knew trouble when it walked in. But instead of doing something, anything, he just sat and gaped at his new client, unable to close his mouth and almost salivating at the sight before him. He knew a lot about that man. He had read the files. Not all, because interestingly some were under disclosure. Everything in fact dating back more than four years, except for a few from the man’s time as a trainee. He knew that Louis Faber worked as a profiler. That he was said to be a difficult and troublesome colleague, an impulsive and unpredictable character with a certain tendency to bend the rules, which in the end had brought him here, into Reid’s office. The files did not say, though, that he was smoking hot, tall, fit, with a stubble beard shading his chiseled chin and muscles rippling below the thin long sleeve he was wearing.