Seal of Honor(27)
She turned her head to one side, golden honey-brown hair cascading over one slim shoulder. Sunlight glinted off her ear. He hadn’t noticed she was wearing earrings before, little turquoise sunbursts that were fanciful and charming and suited her to a T.
“You’re really not my type, Gabe.”
“Ditto, sweetheart,” he said, keeping one eye on the stopped traffic. Why were those stupid turquoise earrings so freaking sexy, anyway?
“I can’t figure out why I’m so attracted.” Fine lines etched into her brow as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, you’re hot stuff, but you’re also impolite, domineering, abrupt, sarcastic—”
“Stop. My ego can’t take much more flattery.”
She grinned at his deadpan tone. “See? And still, I like you.” She sounded shocked. “Once this is over and my brother’s safe, maybe I’ll walk on the wild side and go against type, just this once. See if I’m missing anything. I’ll have to think about it.”
His cock jerked, offering itself for her experimental walk on the wild side, and he clenched his teeth against the hot and raw surge of lust. No can do, buddy. “Think about it all you want, Audrey, but nothing’s going to happen.”
“Why not? You want it. If I decide I want it, too, there shouldn’t be a problem. We’re both consenting adults.”
“It’s unprofessional.”
She made a very unladylike sound. “I’m starting to think it’s not me that needs a walk on the wild side. Do you ever just…I don’t know…cut loose?”
When he only gave her a bland stare, she added, “You know. Raise hell, let your hair down, kick up your heels, sow your wild oats… Oh, c’mon, Gabe, work with me. I’m running out of euphemisms here. I bet you were a wild child in your day.”
“Yeah, ‘cuz I’ve had so much time to run wild.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound, even to his own ears. “Forget that I’m a little busy trying to save your brother. Never mind that I spent the past year trying to save my foot, then my job. And every year before that, I was too busy trying to be the best damn SEAL I could be. So, no, I don’t ever cut loose.”
“What about when you were a child?”
She asked it so casually, he didn’t think twice about answering. “Same goes. I went to a military academy.”
Audrey gave him a look so full of—Jesus Christ, was that pity? He ground his back teeth and reached into the glove box for an extra ammo clip, then jammed it into the side pocket of his cargos. She had no reason to pity him. He’d had a good life and liked it just fine the way it was. Or at least he did. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about the new course he’d taken in the past twelve hours, but that didn’t rate her pity.
Up ahead, a shout of alarm drew his attention, and what he saw made his heart drop into his gut. Eight guerillas with AK-47s were going from car to car, yanking people out, lining them alongside the road with their hands on their heads, while another two rifled through each empty vehicle.
A raid.
Great. Just great. Should’ve known this would happen. Murphy’s fucking Law.
“What’s going on?”
He ignored Audrey’s question and bent over to unlace his left boot with one hand while he dug for his cell phone with the other.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You might wanna grab your gun now.”
She blinked and, if he wasn’t mistaken, some of the color drained out of her face. “W-what?”
“The gun I gave you back at base. You might need it.”
“You mean to… shoot? No.” She shook her head. “I’m not shooting anyone. I don’t shoot people.”
Gabe lifted his attention from his boot to stare at her. “You don’t shoot people? So what was all that shit about not being a southern belle and shooting what you aim at?”
“I aim at paper targets! Shooting is a hobby. A sport. Something I did for fun with my dad.” She waved a trembling hand at the guerillas. “I’m not like them. I don’t kill.”
“If you don’t kill them first, they are sure as hell going to slaughter you without a second thought.”
“I don’t kill,” she repeated. “Maybe we can talk to them.”
“And afterwards we can all hold hands and sing Lean On Me. Christ, what world do you live in?”
“One where violence breeds violence.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly right.” He jerked a thumb at the guerilla soldiers methodically making their way down the line of cars. “But when violence is the only language your enemies know, you gotta learn to speak it, too.”