Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(6)
“An excuse?”
A large drop of water plopped on her cheek from an overhead leaf, and she held her breath as Rock unconsciously reached forward to brush it off. The pad of his thumb was rough, and, man, he smelled good, like fresh foliage, harsh soap, and good, clean, healthy sweat.
Basically, he smelled like he looked. All rough and ready. Wild and exciting. And seeing the look on his face now reminded her of the time he’d interrogated those hit men sent by a crazy Vegas mobster to kill the Black Knights. Then, he’d been tired and worn—performing an interrogation, it appeared, always messed with his head—but the weariness had added a dangerous edge to his expression. It was doing the same thing now. And, boy, oh, boy, did that look go all through her. Because it was the look of man who didn’t shirk his duty, the look of a man whom the world had tested time and again, the look of a man who’d know exactly how to handle anything that came his way. How to handle a gun, a terrorist, a woman—
Ack! Seriously, Van?
“The FBI and CIA know about us now,” she informed him and watched his jaw harden until the hollows in his cheeks deepened, making his face appear harsh and uncompromising. “When the manhunt started, your association with Black Knights Inc. was discovered and General Fuller had to come clean about our little group. Since then we’ve had Company guys breathing down our necks trying to ascertain your location.”
“C’est des conneries!” This is bullshit! he spat in French, turning to pace away once again.
And, yes, a few short months ago she would have agreed with that assessment. But, since then, she’d discovered that having the CIA privy to the true nature of BKI wasn’t all that bad. In fact, The Company and its myriad reams of intel had come in quite handy on a few of their more recent assignments. And just because the two groups didn’t see eye-to-eye on the culpability of one Richard “Rock” Babineaux, that didn’t mean they weren’t still batting for the home team and willing to help one another if and when they could in all other endeavors.
“They were convinced we knew where you were, which was sorta funny since we didn’t have the first clue,” she told him, watching the efficiency of his lean-hipped swagger as he once again marched back to her. He moved like a well-built machine. No wasted energy. “They’ve backed off in the last month or so, and from what Ozzie can gather from hacking into their reports, they’ve pretty much given up on the idea that we could help locate you.” Pretty much, except for that one surveillance van back in San Jose. But she figured she’d keep that little bit of info to herself…for now. Especially since she had the feeling it was going to be hard enough to convince him to come back with her. “But we weren’t willing to take any chances. So after we discovered the bowl’s origins, and in order not to tip them off to the lead we thought we might have, we tried to come up with a legitimate reason for coming down here.”
“And what reason did you come up with?” he demanded, still looking less like he wanted to fall to his knees and thank his lucky stars they were on his side and had found him, and more like he wanted to clock her upside the head before sending her back home.
She tried very hard not to let that hurt her feelings, especially considering all she’d had to go through in order to locate him.
“Eve has a vacation home in San Jose. You remember Eve, don’t you?” she asked. Although, it was probably a stupid question considering Eve Edens was a semi-famous Chicago debutante and drop-dead gorgeous to boot. Anyone who’d ever laid eyes on the woman was not likely to forget the occasion.
“Oui. I remember Eve,” he said. And, dang, here she’d hoped he may have been blind to Eve’s substantial allures.
“Well, since Boss and Becky never got a honeymoon,” she continued, trying to ignore the green-eyed monster perched on her shoulder poking her in the temple with a sharp-nailed finger, “we thought it’d be cool and, more importantly, believable if some of us came down here as a sort of celebratory vacation and—”
“Wait.” He held up a wide-palmed hand. “Boss and Becky are married?”
The momentary look of anguish that passed over his rugged features instantly tugged at her heartstrings. He and Boss had been friends since way back in BUD/S training, and she knew he loved Becky like a kid sister. So, yeah, missing the pair’s union had to be a major blow.
And seeing the hurt and regret on his face helped to wash away some of her doubts. Because when the days had turned to weeks and then months, she was ashamed to say she’d actually begun to waffle on the issue of Rock’s innocence. But a man who could do what they said he’d done wouldn’t be so dejected over missing a simple wedding ceremony, would he? No. No he wouldn’t. And she was more than a bit relieved to feel some of her earlier certainty return.
“Yes, they’re married.” She resisted the urge to give his biceps a comforting squeeze. “Two months ago they went to a justice of the peace. But they’re waiting to have the party and reception until this thing with you gets cleared up and you can join in the festivities.”
He stared down at the toes of his jungle boots. “You shouldn’t have come here. You’ve put yourself and all the Knights you brought with you in terrible danger.”
Stepping forward, she placed a gently persuasive hand on his forearm. “Come home with me, Rock.”