Under Pressure(2)
More importantly, how could he extricate himself before everyone in his life discovered the secret he’d been hiding for years?
Picking up the phone, Asher dialed Knox’s cell.
He didn’t bother with pleasantries, just launched straight into the attack when his friend answered. “What the hell, man? You on death’s door?”
“Feels that way,” Knox croaked.
“Bullshit. I’ve seen you crawl through mud with a bullet hole oozing blood. I had a temp of one-oh-one when we took that little village outside of Kandahar. Suck it up, buttercup. We need you.”
“I’m not—” Knox’s words cut off abruptly, and he could hear the sound of scuffling in the background before a smooth, soft voice came on the line. “Asher, whatever you want, the answer is no.”
“Firecracker,” Asher said, a grin tugging at his lips.
Now, Avery Walsh was a woman he liked. And it wasn’t just because she delighted in giving his friend shit. That had a lot to do with his affection for her, but she was a force to be reckoned with all on her own. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m wonderful, but Knox feels like crap.”
“So he was saying.”
“I’ve already talked with Kennedy.” He could hear the suppressed humor in Avery’s voice and wanted to hate her for it, but couldn’t quite muster up the energy.
Damn Kennedy for her organizing tendencies and preemptive strike.
“Listen,” he started, modulating his voice into a smooth tone with only a hint of cajoling thrown into the mix.
“Don’t even start,” Avery warned. Asher wasn’t sure he liked the fact that the women in the group talked to each other on a regular basis. It was definitely becoming a problem for him.
“You’re not getting out of this one, Ash. Not this time.” She didn’t even bother to hide the laughter warming her words. He probably should have taken offense, but didn’t.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” he drawled, leaning back and propping his feet up into their normal position on the edge of his desk.
His entire body relaxed, sinking down into the forgiving leather of his office chair.
This was familiar territory, bantering with a beautiful woman. Safe and comfortable, especially because he knew nothing he did or said could tempt Avery away from the man she loved.
“Trust me, it’s funny as hell,” she said. “Your pretty face is finally working against you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, you know you’re beautiful, Asher. And you use it to your advantage.”
Shit, he didn’t see anything wrong with that. The navy had taught them all to use the assets they’d been given. He was just following orders, nothing more, nothing less.
“It’s gratifying to see it turned against you for a change,” Avery continued.
“You know, I really liked you, doc...before you turned into such a ball buster.”
Avery chuckled, completely unfazed. “Your charm isn’t going to get you out of this one, sailor. Sorry.”
It had been a long shot, but one he’d had to at least try. Because the alternative... A cold wash of dread rushed through his body.
Saying goodbye to Avery, Asher disconnected and stared at his computer screen without actually seeing what was there.
Shit. He was out of options.
He’d stared down heartless terrorists. Watched as boys who were barely strong enough to hold the guns they were using died in a war they likely didn’t understand. He’d jumped out of perfectly functioning airplanes and plunged his body into raging cold seas. Putting his own life on the line was nothing new. Danger and fear were nothing new. That kind of stress he could easily deal with, because he was equipped to handle it. Felt comfortable and confident in his skills and training.
So why the hell couldn’t he conquer this?
The only easy day was yesterday.
Today, the Navy SEAL motto was cold comfort. Taking a deep breath, Asher forced himself to relax his body. He would find a way to make this work.
Kennedy hadn’t given him any other choice.
And he’d be damned if he’d let her see him at his weakest.
* * *
KENNEDY HALF EXPECTED to have to track Asher down, which was why she’d told him nine when their plane really didn’t leave until ten. Padding in extra time for disaster had simply been good strategy.
Until the man actually strolled up to the gate at eight.
She should have been relieved. She wasn’t. Because that meant they had an hour and a half to kill sitting outside their gate before their flight boarded.
Asher folded himself into the uncomfortable chair next to her, the bench kind with chrome arms sticking out to delineate each seat from the next. Why hadn’t he taken one chair down?
His shoulders rubbed against hers, forcing Kennedy to shift into the opposite corner to get away from him.
The flight was going to be hell.
“Nine, huh,” he murmured in that deep, dark voice that always managed to send a shiver down her spine.
The only outward reaction Kennedy allowed was for her mouth to tighten into a frown.
“I suppose I deserved that,” he said, stretching his legs out until they practically touched the bench on the opposite side of the aisle.
He was tall, at least a couple of inches over six feet. With wide shoulders and a narrow waist that tapered into the most perfect tight ass she’d ever seen. He could wear the hell out of a pair of jeans. Or a business suit. Or a wet suit.
Wait, what had they been talking about?
“Yes, you did. I’m just glad I didn’t have to chase after you.”
The minute the words left her mouth, Kennedy regretted them. She held her breath, waiting for the smart-ass comment she knew was coming.
“Darlin’, if I’d known you wanted a chase, I’d have been happy to oblige.”
Kennedy raked him with the sharp edge of her gaze. “I don’t chase.”
Asher’s lips tugged up at the edges. “No, I can’t imagine you would, baby girl.”
God, she hated when he called her that. But she’d given up reprimanding him for the slight a long time ago.
She needed to pull this conversation—and the entire trip—back to center. And the fastest method for that was reminding him—and herself—just what their purpose was.
Reaching into her bag, Kennedy pulled out the glossy dossier she’d prepared for Asher and handed it to him.
He took it, his big fingers tangling with hers for a moment before finally letting go. Asher stared at her for several seconds and then glanced down, flipping through the papers.
She’d taken the time to write up a detailed agenda for the trip and included that along with a draft script. She’d thrown in some background information on the production team and even included a copy of the proposal she’d submitted when pitching them the idea for the show.
He studied it, silent and still. And yet, Kennedy could practically feel the energy vibrating beneath his skin. Or was that just her imagination?
Closing the cover, Asher let out a low whistle. “You need a hobby.”
“No, I don’t.”
His eyes cut to her above the frosted edge of the plastic she’d placed on the front and back of the document. He held her gaze, to the point where she wanted to squirm beneath the pressure of his scrutiny. But she wouldn’t.
That was the thing about Asher that she’d learned early on...he was excellent at spotting and exploiting weaknesses while keeping any he might possess firmly under wraps. She worked damn hard at making sure not to reveal any to him. Or any more.
It was bad enough that he’d been an unwanted part of the most humiliating night of her life.
No matter how hard she worked or how competent she was, she didn’t think she’d ever live down that night. At least not with Asher.
“Look, this shouldn’t be difficult for you. You’re charming and gorgeous.”
“Thanks.”
Kennedy ignored the self-confident grin that curled his lips. “The camera will love you. You’ve got the script. Do me a favor and look over it on the plane.”
Maybe that would keep him occupied for a while and out of her personal space.
His gaze raked across her body, lingering on the low V-cut neckline of the T-shirt she’d thrown on this morning. It was unremarkable and not her normal office attire. But they were heading for Nassau where they’d meet up with the Amphitrite before sailing out to open sea.
She would not apologize for dressing comfortably, even if the way he was watching her made her regret not putting on the business clothes she typically used as armor.
His chest rose and fell as he leaned farther into her. Kennedy wanted to move away, but her body wouldn’t listen to the commands her brain was screaming.
God, he smelled good. That was the only clear thought running through her overwhelmed brain.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do on the plane, Kennedy? I’m sure we can think of...more pleasant ways to pass the time.”
She blinked. Her body swayed. Somehow her hand ended up planted in the center of his chest. His wide, strong, hard chest.
A jangling sound startled her, breaking the spell. She jerked back, realizing it was the ringtone on her phone.
A smirk tugged at the edges of Asher’s lips even as a single, wicked eyebrow crooked up. The man knew exactly what kind of effect he had on women. Any woman with a pulse.