Page 22 of Rebel Protector
“Can I get you a drink?” His voice came out rougher than he intended. “I don’t have much—just beer.”
She set the towels down and faced him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” But her eyes said something different.
He stepped closer, catching that soft scent again, the one that messed with his head. “Didn’t stop you before. You knocked back that saco like a pro.”
She grinned. “That was in town, and I had a good excuse. My nerves were fried from the explosion. This is different. My boss would kill me if he knew I was fraternizing with hisassociates.”
“Associates?” He smirked. “I thought I was a dangerous mercenary.”
She smiled back. “Even worse.”
He forced himself to stop grinning like a fool and touched her arm. “Come on, just one drink. I won’t tell if you don’t.”
She hesitated, then took a step back. “Fine, just one.”
Had she also felt that jolt of electricity that had passed between them?
“And beer’s fine.”
She walked out onto the deck while he grabbed a couple from the fridge.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said when he joined her. The sun was starting to sink, painting the sky with streaks of pink and gold. He handed her a beer, his eyes tracing the way the light danced off her skin, her hair, her eyes.
“Yeah, it is.” His voice came out low, his gaze locked on her.
She didn’t notice. “Could be in a damn travel brochure.”
He glanced at the horizon, forcing his eyes off her. “It’s perfect for photographs.”
She gave him a curious look. “You’re a photographer too? Another one of Dom’s hidden talents?”
He shrugged. “A bit. I’ve got a camera, but I don’t carry anything fancy. It’d get wrecked where I go.”
“Where’s that?”
“The jungle, mostly.” He didn’t elaborate. “After I got kicked out of Special Forces, I thought about photography, but other opportunities came up. Besides, it’s better as a hobby. If it was a job, it’d lose the appeal.”
“What other opportunities?” she asked, leaning back against the railing.
“The training facility. But then, like you, I got poached.”
“By the bad guys?”
He smirked. “You could say that. But they pay well.”
“They always do.” She studied him a moment, then said, “Guess we’ve got more in common than I thought. We’re both easily led astray.”
His eyes locked on hers. Photography would’ve been the safer option. “I was trained for this. You weren’t.”
“I did a secretarial course.” Her eyes twinkled.
He snorted. “Not what I meant.”
“I know, but I’m safe here as long as I do my job and stay out of Mr. Markov’s business. And he pays me a hell of a lot more than I got at the embassy. When I leave, I’ll be able to afford a place of my own. Start fresh.”
“Is that what you want? A fresh start?”
Her gaze drifted out to the horizon. “Yeah. I think it’s time I put down some roots. I’ve been bouncing around too long.”