Red on the River - Page 59

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

As they always did, the women prepped breakfast together, Shabina and Zahra doing the actual cooking while the others set the table and squeezed oranges for orange juice. The men insisted they could eat on the deck but the women told them that was silly, they could all eat together.

Vienna knew Zale had talked with Rainier and persuaded him that they were there for Stella’s bridal shower and should be left alone as much as possible. She knew she should feel guilty, but she didn’t. It was the simple truth.

Fortunately, the talk swirled around hiking and climbing rather than anything controversial, so that made for a pleasant breakfast filled with laughter as they told stories of having to leap over snakes on the trail and finding a place to dig a hole to go to the bathroom, only to find another person ten feet away when they thought they had the entire forest to themselves.

Zale and Rainier contributed a couple of equally funny stories, laughing at themselves, and after breakfast, helped to clear the table. Shabina ordered Rainier away from the kitchen when it became clear he was limping and his wound was not cooperating. Both Harlow and Vienna insisted on looking at it.

Vienna was certain he would have ignored them, but Shabina put both fists on her hips and stared him down until he complied. The wound looked swollen and ugly, and they gave him another injection of antibiotics after a consultation with Raine.

“I could call the doctor here on the local staff and have him drop by just to be certain,” Raine offered.

“That’s not necessary,” Rainier protested.

“It isn’t if you don’t care if you lose your leg,” Vienna pointed out, not looking at him. “That might be a good idea, Raine, unless you have someone your people can send?” She turned fully to him and lifted an eyebrow.

“I am a doctor,” he reminded.

Vienna rolled her eyes. “Doctors are notoriously the worst patients, and they always misdiagnose themselves. Call for a doc and have him come by. We can say one of us cut ourselves while preparing food.”

“Shabina.” There was distinct amusement in Rainier’s voice.

It was the first time there was real humor that lit his face and eyes and made his eyes appear almost an icy blue.

Shabina feigned outrage. “Not Shabina. I would never cut myself chopping anything. You are deliberately insulting me, and if you keep it up, you will not be eating any of my delicious meals for however long you’re here. You’ll be sending for take-out pizza.”

Rainier actually shuddered. “Not pizza.” He held up both hands. “I surrender. Not you, Shabina. Someone else. Who is most likely to cut themselves in the kitchen?” He looked around at the women.

“That would be more Zahra’s department.” Stella threw her best friend under the bus.

Zahra lifted an eyebrow, looking bored. “I doubt it. Harlow was raised with the silver spoon. She was never in the kitchen.”

“That’s unfortunately the truth,” Harlow agreed. “Although, I am a nurse, so I don’t exactly hack myself up by slipping up when I’m wielding instruments.”

Zahra gave an exaggerated sigh. “Raine?”

“Not only do I cook, which you do as well, but I took multiple types of self-defense lessons, including weapons. I doubt I’d hurt myself with a knife while chopping up veggies.”

Zale burst out laughing. “There are some very healthy egos among you ladies.”

“I suppose it has to be me,” Zahra said. “I don’t mind at all. Hopefully the doctor is young and good-looking. If he is, all of you remember you didn’t want to be the one he looks after. You can just go into another room while he treats my laceration.”

“Zahra, you don’t have a laceration,” Stella pointed out. “The doctor is coming to treat Rainier’s wound, not your mythical one.”

“Well, jeez.” Zahra flung herself on the couch across from Rainier. “Do you see what I have to put up with? I sacrifice my reputation in the kitchen and I don’t even reap rewards.”

“The doctor is most likely an old man with fourteen children and twice that number of grandchildren,” Zale assured. “These military stations like the ones Raine tapped into, out in the middle of nowhere, they’re occupied by the has-beens. These guys haven’t moved in years.”

“Just my luck,” Zahra complained. “I’m never going to find a hot billionaire to rescue me from the perils of working behind a desk.”

“You love your work,” Stella reminded.

“That’s true, until there’s all this wedding nonsense, and then I feel left out,” Zahra said, although she didn’t sound as if she felt left out. She gave them a faint grin. Vienna wasn’t altogether certain Zahra planned to give anyone a fair chance at dating her. She’d considered Bruce, one of the businessmen in Knightly, but he was so shy he couldn’t even manage to ask her out. He stayed in the group, danced with Zahra and made it known to others that he considered her off-limits to everyone, but he never actually made a move.

Vienna had never understood why Zahra let the flirtation with Bruce go on for so long when it obviously wasn’t going to go anywhere. In a way, Zahra was protected from other men asking her out, and that might have been the answer right there. Zahra was fond of Bruce, but she wasn’t in love with him. How could she be, when Bruce just wouldn’t commit to even so much as an actual date with her?

“I’m sure Raine’s doctor is an old man, Zahra,” Zale reiterated. “So, you’re not losing out. These military types tend to just sit around and vegetate.”

Raine coughed behind her hand. “I believe my people beat your people to the truck.”

“Only because my people didn’t know about the truck,” Zale pointed out.

A ghost of a smile touched Raine’s mouth. “That could be true.”

“It would be kind of funny to have seen a standoff between the two factions,” Vienna said. “Both trying to be the first to tow the truck away.”

“Unless they decided to shoot at each other,” Harlow ventured. “Guys are kind of trigger happy. They don’t make any kind of sense at all.”

“I do want to point out one thing, Zale,” Raine added. “You were in the military for years. Technically, you’re still there. Operative. Ghost. SAG. Whatever branch you’re serving under, it’s in the military. So, you’re one of those military types who tend to sit around and vegetate.”

His eyebrow shot up. “Your point being?”

Tags: Christine Feehan Romance
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