Page 16 of Rebel Protector
“Anti-American group, probably,” he said casually, picking up a menu like it was just another day.
Her hands were still shaking from the adrenaline, and she had this sudden urge to talk. “When I worked at the embassy, we were warned this kind of thing could happen. We did drills for it, but I never thought I’d actually be in one. When it’s real, it’s different. You freeze.” She knew she was rambling, but the words kept spilling out. “I always wondered what I’d do in a moment like that, and now I know. I froze. I didn’t move. I just stood there, waiting to get blown to bits.”
“You’re safe now,” he said softly, waiting for her to catch her breath.
She stared at him for a long moment. There was something about the way he said it, something that made her feel like she really was safe with him. “You’re used to this, though, right? Bombs going off around you?”
Before he could answer, her phone rang, breaking the tension. She fished it out of her bag, glancing at the screen.
“It’s Ramirez,” she mouthed to Dominguez, who shook his head, signaling her not to mention him.
She answered. “Yes, I’m okay,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “No, I wasn’t near it. I’ll meet you in half an hour.”
She hung up and turned to Dominguez. “Ramirez is coming to pick us up. We’re meeting him a few blocks away to avoid the chaos.”
In the distance, they could already hear the wail of sirens as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. The market was going to be crawling with officials and medics. She’d left her shopping, or what was left of it, back in the square. It was too bad.
“I hope no one was badly hurt,” she whispered, biting her lip as the reality of what had just happened hit her. She’d come so close. If she’d been just a few feet closer to that stall...
“It was a powerful explosion, but it was controlled,” he said. “The goal wasn’t to kill. It was to send a message.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, her heart still racing.
He gave her a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Four tours in the Middle East. You get good at recognizing that kind of thing.”
She couldn’t help but be impressed.
Despite his messy hair and scruff, he was remarkably composed. His big, strong hands held the menu with steady ease, and he hadn’t even broken a sweat. Meanwhile, she still felt shaky, her pulse erratic from the explosion—and maybe a little from his nearness.
His phone beeped. He pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. She could have sworn he flinched, even if only for a second.
“That’s my notification,” he said, slipping it back.
Becca noticed the way he tensed up, his discomfort at being under Ramirez and Carlos’s constant watch evident. She couldn’t blame him—she wasn’t a fan of their overbearing presence either.
“Why didn’t you want Ramirez to know we were together?” she asked.
He gave a small shrug. “Didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.”
“What, that you’re actually a nice guy?” She smirked, enjoying the way it made him squirm.
“Something like that.” His grimace made her laugh.
She leaned in, dropping her voice into a teasing whisper. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. You can keeppretending to be the badass mercenary if it makes you feel better.”
He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest that did weird things to her insides. “Thanks.”
The waitress arrived, and Dominguez ordered for both of them, effortlessly taking control of the situation.
“I hope that has something strong in it,” Becca sighed. “My nerves are shot.”
“It’s saco,” he replied, his accent rolling easily. “You know it?”
She nodded. “I’ve heard of it but haven’t tried it yet.”
“It’s local—distilled from sugarcane. It’ll take the edge off.”
She pursed her lips. “Right now, I’d drink anything, even tequila, and that’s saying a lot.”