Nicole sighed. She delicately picked up the stemless wine glass and tipped back the drink, taking in a huge gulp.
"I thought you were a whiskey girl."
She cocked her head to the side and twisted it to face him. "Yeah, I am. Sometimes you got to mix things up."
"I never heard of a saying about whiskey before wine. Plenty about beer and liquor, though."
A feeble laugh leaped from her lips. "Yeah, I think we all know that one." She took another sip, this time less aggressively, then set the glass down. "You can sleep on the couch tonight. Then go find your friend in the morning."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I can't do that."
"Well, you're not sleeping in the bed with me."
After he snorted, he corrected his statement. "I meant I can't stay here tonight with you. I don't want to put you in danger, any more than I may already have. I have to keep moving until I get to Will."
"One night won’t put me in danger. I know how to take care of myself."
She was right. Nicole could handle herself in most kinds of fights. Plus, with him there, they'd be a formidable adversary for any assassins or bounty hunters the colonel could have sent.
"That's true," he said. "You can. But I won't be able to sleep if I stay here."
"Where are you going to stay, Dak? Got a hotel on the outskirts of town or something?" She turned to face him, leaning on an elbow atop the counter.
He rolled his shoulders. "I'll figure it out."
"No. You're staying here. If this colonel sent people to find you and they knew you were here, they would have already busted down the door."
That part wasn't entirely true. If he was one of the hunters, he'd wait until dark. Fewer eyes to witness anything suspicious. Maybe he was being overly cautious. He usually erred on the side of caution more often than not.
Nicole's safety wasn't the only reason he didn't want to stay. He wanted to stay there with her, more than anything. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her until the sun rose over the eastern horizon the next morning.
That wasn't on the docket, though, and he knew it probably never would be.
"Look," she said, pointing at the couch. It was a beige chaise with thick, soft cushions. "It's not a sleeper sofa, but it's more comfortable than any couch I've ever slept on. I pass out on in some nights while I'm up late watching television. I have sheets and a pillow you can use."
He lowered his eyes to the floor again, humbled by her generosity, generosity he didn't deserve. Not in a million years.
"Okay," he grunted.
"I'm sorry, what?" she teased.
"Thank you," he corrected as he lifted his eyes to connect with hers. "For everything."
"Yeah, well, you're welcome." She turned and raised the glass, then dumped the remaining contents into her mouth. She swallowed hard. Nodding as she apprised the container, she looked back at him. "Yeah, you're right. Whiskey is better."
"Mind if I have another?"
She permitted a grin to cross her face. "May as well. Probably the only way either of us will get any sleep tonight."
Six
Nazare, Portugal
Dak woke up to see Nicole's face lying on the pillow next to him. She smiled dreamily as he allowed gravity to keep him trapped in the sheets and comforter.
"It's time to wake up, Dak," she said, her voice carried by an unusually heavy reverb. It sounded blurry in his ears.
"I don't want to wake up," he slurred. "I'm tired. And I'm comfortable."
The same grin he'd fallen for over and over again creased her lips and she shook her head at him. "No, sleepy boy. You have work to do. And I can't stay."
"Just five more minutes," he growled. He reached his arm out to wrap it around her waist, but it passed through her covered figure and the apparition vanished.
"Nicky?" he said, suddenly overcome with panic. "Nicky?"
His head snapped up from the pillow, and he looked around the room. Dark blue curtains at the far window blocked the rising sun's rays. One of the windows, cracked the night before, allowed the sound of waves crashing against the shore to dance through the room. The ambient sound helped him to sleep and had done wonders for his poor nocturnal habits.
He swallowed and looked down at the bed sheets covering his legs. He planted his hands firmly on the mattress to keep him upright while his brain caught up with reality.
The same blasted dream, he thought.
It was at least the tenth time he'd experienced it. He wished he could make it go away, but Dak knew that particular nightmare would likely haunt him the rest of his days.
With a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stuck his feet on the bamboo floor. Another breath and he stood, albeit with a slight wobble, and meandered over to the window ten feet away.
The room wasn't large, but the primo location more than made up for the lack of space. Being alone, he didn't need much, anyway.
He pulled open the curtains and tugged the string to raise the Japanese blinds. Dak ran fingers through his hair and gazed down the hillside toward the sandy beach. Enormous waves crashed onto the shore, bringing with them a cool breeze from the ocean. The salty air mixed with the faint scent of seafood wafting up from a grill down the street. Several surfers were already on the beach, wading into the frothy churn while fishing boats bobbed in the gentler swells farther off the coast.
Dak had lived here for six months. And for six months, he had no complaints, except one; he couldn't locate the other five members of his former team.
After leaving Nicole's place in Istanbul, he took a series of trains to Portugal and eventually landed at Will's doorstep.
It felt like yesterday.
Will had opened his door and stared at
