waves created a melodic rhythm, and the scent of pineapple and coconut fragranced the air. Throw in a La-Z-Bpy recliner, a fridge loaded with ice-cold beer, and a dozen dancing hula girls—naked of course—and he'd be in heaven.
'Sure I can,' He jumped over a pile of rocks, never breaking stride. 'Why don't you take off all your clothes and tell me who you are and why you're helping me.'
At first her only reaction was a gasp, and he would have given anything to see her expression. To see
He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.
'You keep saying that, and to be honest, I'm sick of hearing it. I don't even know your name.' Silence.
'A name is such a simple thing. Surely you can tell me yours.'
'Yes, you can. Open your mouth and let sound come out. Try it, you might like it.'
His brow furrowed. Not have a name? Everyone and everything had a name. Was she lying, perhaps? No, he decided in the next instant. Her shame was too real. Which left the question: why didn't she have a name?
Instead of pressing for more details, he said, 'Why don't I call you Babe? It's short, easy, and perfect for you.'
'Now it's my turn to nix.' He chuckled. 'I'm not calling you by a name I use for dead female bodies I can't identify.'
She sighed,
He experienced a jolt of surprise that she had picked
He skirted around a pile of rocks. 'Why did you help me, Jewel?'
She exhaled slowly, and the breathy trickle caressed his nerve endings, tickling like the tip of a feather.
'Help doing what?'
'Again?' He stopped and his backpack slammed into his spine. 'What the hell for?'
The scolding edge in her voice made him laugh, and he jolted back into motion. 'I'd like to help you, babe, but I'm kind of pressed for time.'
The moment she spoke, the muscles in his shoulder tensed. Oh, he wasn't surprised she knew—she could read his thoughts, after all. But hearing her say the words... He didn't want to have to find her and silence her (permanently) because she knew something she wasn't supposed to. Could
He drew in a breath and slowly released it. 'What I'm doing here isn't relevant to you.'
'Please. I can find anything, anywhere. That's why my boss chose me for this mission. Besides that, I work alone.' He enunciated each word, wanting no misunderstanding of his refusal. 'Always.'
Still she persisted.
He shook his head and his bandana fell askew. He shoved the material back into place. 'This little baby says I can,' he said, patting the GPS system he'd hooked to his belt, the quiet, steady rhythm of its beep soothing.
She snorted.
His fists clenched at the reminder—and the threat, veiled though it was. 'You'd say anything to get your way.'
His teeth bared in a scowl, and he kicked a large rock with the steel toe of his boot, sending the white stone skidding down the path. Jewel might have proven herself trustworthy, but he preferred to rely only on himself. People got scared, did stupid things. The last partner OBI had given him abandoned him in a weapons compound at the first sign of trouble, leaving him at the mercy of an infuriated alien warlord. Only Gray's long-standing seduction of Lady Luck helped him escape alive. That, and a two-pound package of C4 explosives.
If Jewel
'I can do without the commentary,' he told her dryly.
'That's debatable,' he said, even though he'd thought the same thing only moments before.
If she were with him, he could make sure she didn't tell anyone about his mission and compromise him. But if he rescued her and she conveniently 'forgot' to help him find Dunamis, if she tried to harm or stop him... He sighed.
He was going to liberate her, and he knew it. No use trying to talk himself out of it. He'd save her and force her to help him, if need be. And he'd do it for reasons that had nothing to do with that I'm-waiting-for-you-to-find- and-fuck-me voice.
At her outrage, he lost some of his anger. To be honest, he was looking forward to seeing Jewel and hearing her voice in person, to coming face-to-face with the woman who could read his mind.
The cobbled path twisted sharply to the left, scattering his shadowy cover. He quickened his pace until he maneuvered back into the deepest darkness. Up ahead, the road stretched for miles.
Maybe he'd get lucky and stumble upon a massage parlor. 'Do I have to walk this entire road to get to you?'
At first, she said nothing. Then,
Joy and shock and excitement radiated from her words, and he imagined her dancing... wherever the hell she was, wearing nothing but a skimpy black leather halter top and a smile.
Another bout of silence erupted, before she
'Way to ruin the fantasy and cause Private Happy to hide.' He tried to sound stern, but his amusement seeped through. He'd never had this much fun teasing a woman. 'I think we picked the wrong name for you. I think I should call you Prudence.'