On Her Master's Secret Service (Masters and Mercenaries #4)(59)

She’d said good-bye on the balcony five days before, and he’d woken up knowing she’d been right. They would never have a clean slate. He didn’t want one. He wanted to acknowledge the relationship they’d had before, but he’d made a shrine of it and he’d been forced that night to really look at it. Their marriage had been far from perfect. He’d made mistakes. She’d made mistakes.

They were starting over.

Because he’d realized one thing. She still loved him. Deep down and underneath it all—Eve still loved him. Still needed him.

He wouldn’t let her down this time.

But he might piss her off. Since they’d come to Florida, she’d received three disciplinary spankings. She’d been late to workouts twice and mouthed off at him when he’d very politely requested that she perform another set of squats. He’d kept her off-kilter all week long.

And he had no intention of changing that.

He led her to the seat they had offered him. Four men sat around the table besides Chazz and Jake. Jesse, the little f*cker, already had eyes on Eve. And he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was carrying. Alex could see the round edge of his shoulder holster peeking from under his jacket. The ex-soldier looked a little awkward in a sport coat.

The other three men did not. They were all either South American or Middle Eastern. In the normal course of events, their nationality didn’t mean a damn thing. Alex had known plenty of all-American criminal *s, but they were here “investing” in Michael Evans’s club.

These were men with ties to Evans. Evans was quite the terrorist entrepreneur. Alex was almost certain Evans was using the club to launder money, and having control of the money would give Evans a certain amount of power in the cells.

These were either jihadist terrorists or they worked for cartels. And every single one of them was looking at Eve.

He sat down, tugging her into his lap. He wanted her on the floor, safely at his feet where they couldn’t see her, but he needed her expertise more than he needed her hidden away. That was what the old Alex did. Damn, but she’d gotten to him that night on the balcony. He’d been thinking about his actions all week.

Had he turned away from her? Had it been easier to focus on Evans than to try to deal with what had happened to them?

And it had happened to them. He’d spent too many years not acknowledging that they were truly in this together. Eve had been the victim and Alex the man who had failed her, but sometime that night, as he held her close and felt her breath on his skin, he’d discovered something important.

They had to survive this together or neither could really survive it at all. Eve was right that they needed to move on, but she was wrong about how they should do it.

She thought he needed someone whole? He couldn’t be whole without her.

And that meant allowing her to be the partner she needed to be.

He pulled her into his lap and she immediately responded, allowing her head to find his chest.

The door to the kitchens opened and Sean walked through carrying a plate, followed by several young men who looked like they’d been forced into proper serving attire. Sean had spent his time getting the kitchen staff in order. They were running like a well-oiled machine.

“This is promising,” one of the Middle Eastern men said. “The last time I was here, your cook was horrible. If you intend to entertain my associates, you have to be better.”

Sean was wearing a perfectly pristine white chef’s jacket. “Today’s luncheon starts with lobster ceviche. There’s a beet and endive salad. Our main course is a rubbed rack of lamb with a celery puree. Enjoy.”

Kristen walked by, opening a bottle of wine. “I am the bar manager and sommelier for the club. Hopefully for the clubs. I believe you will find this first offering pairs nicely with the lobster.”

Kristen was wearing a black jacket that she seemed to be having a bit of trouble with. She subtlety pulled the sleeves down a couple of times as though they kept riding up and she was trying to maintain a professional air.

She was taking pictures. One of the buttons on her jacket was a camera.

Adam would have some work to do tonight.

She stopped when she got to Jake, and her face tightened. Fuck. He had hoped that she wouldn’t recognize him, but apparently she’d really done her homework. She finished her job and nodded as she walked off, not sparing him another glance.

He knew an angry woman when he saw one.

Jesse Murdoch looked down at his lunch like he’d hoped for fries and a burger.

One of the investors turned to Murdoch. “You were a soldier, correct? I remember your face.”

Alex felt Eve tense. He cuddled her closer. She was interested in a reaction. He could feel it. He shifted her so she could see the younger man whose face had flushed immediately. He wasn’t particularly good at hiding his reactions.

“I did my time,” Jesse said in a hard voice.

The man next to him smiled, a smooth, practiced expression. “Yes, I rather thought that was you. I shouldn’t be too surprised to see you here. Smart man. You picked the right side.”

Jesse took a sharp breath and then slammed out of his seat, his chair barking across the floor. “I’m not hungry. I’ll be on the door outside.”

Jake snorted a little as the door slammed. “He’s a pistol, that one.”

Chazz frowned. “He can be a hothead, but he’s proven to be a loyal soldier.”