Dead of Eve (Trilogy of Eve 1) - Page 120

“I’d peg you as a lot of things, Evie, but naive isn’t one of them.”

I threw my hands in the air and paced. “Are you serious? You had a front row seat to that.” I jerked my thumb at the door. “He made his decision.”

“Maybe so. But you—” He gritted his teeth. “You have not.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. I endured two months without Roark. Two agonizing, lonely months without his affection and companionship. I’d fight to the death to avoid suffering that again.

He stood and moved to the door. “But you’re right. He’s not going anywhere and, regardless whether we get along or not, we’re on the same side. And Evie…” He paused at the threshold, gripped the doorframe, eyes on me. “I’m not going anywhere, either. Not the sharpest blade, not the fastest arrow, not even the fate of man could take my love from you.”

His words solidified as his retreating back faded in the darkness of the galley beyond.

My feet were moving before my brain was. I ran through the door, slid around him and jumped, wrapping him in a hug with arms and legs.

He stumbled back, hands on my ass, and spun. When my back hit the wall, I looked up at him and fell into the bottomless black of his eyes. He gave me a smile so rare and beautiful I touched it, tried to hold it in my hand.

“I love you, too,” he whispered through my fingers.

Then his mouth claimed mine. It was a New World exploration full of ventures and dreams, and I was right there with him, meeting the thrust of his tongue with the whole of my heart.

Our hips moved in sync with our lips, and my hands slid through the thick locks of his hair, glided down his ribs, and found the flex in his backside. I wanted more. I wanted—

“Dr. Nealy,” Tallis shouted from the top of the stairs.

He pressed his face into my neck and groaned.

“Ignore him.” I turned my head, seeking his lips.

His long fingers framed my face. “They’re waiting.” He sighed. “Get dressed. Drink the water I left by the bed. I’ll meet you up top.”

When he slipped away, I returned to the room in search of my weapons, my clothes, and my game face.

The yacht was longer than a school bus and twice as wide. I leaned into the V railing at the bow and waited for the men to gather. Sandy ridges rose from the crystalline waters along the eastern horizon. Boxy white-washed buildings scattered the closest island and overlooked sailboats toppled in the ghost port.

A hand settled next to mine on the railing. “The Egadi Islands.” Michio’s voice was as guarded as the day I met him. “We’re heading into the Tyrrhenian Sea.” He pointed at the frosted waves sloshing to the left of the morning sun. “Ready to meet the crew?”

I searched his blank face and found what I was looking for. His mask. Worn to disguise his weaknesses from those he didn’t trust. But, slow as I was, I finally recognized what was beneath that mask. A whisper of love to match his words in the galley. It made me want to sing to the vast openness of the sea and sky. Instead, I rearranged my face into one that might mirror the seriousness in his and nodded.

He led me across the teak-laid deck. Roark and two others talked over maps in the cockpit, encircled by deep couches. The man nearest Roark stood a few inches over him. Streaks of gold weaved through his headful of bushy brown hair.

I stopped before him and raised my chin to hold his steel blue stare. His swarthy face froze as he looked at me agape.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…Beckett said you were breathtaking, but that was an understatement.” An Australian accent. “I’m still trying to catch my breath.”

Jesse Beckett and I were going to have words. “What else did Beckett say?”

The other man replied, “If we touch you without your consent, our balls will hang like baubles from his Humvee’s rearview mirror.” He eyed my outstretched hand and looked away. “Ma’am.”

The Australian gripped my palm. “Tallis Reynolds. Nice to meet you, Ms. Delina.”

“Call me Evie.”

He turned to the other man. “My mate here is Cliff Dilman.”

Cliff tipped up his baseball cap and gave me a demure smile made for charming small-town girls. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Same. Did you say Jesse has a Humvee?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s yours. Said he brought it over on the very ship you were hiding on.”

“No shit.” Sneaky bastard.

“He’s got your MT 350E army bike, too,” Tallis said.

“Son of a bitch,” Roark huffed. “Where?”

“He left it in Genoa,” Tallis replied, “where we’ll be docking.”

“So you both work for Jesse?” I asked.

Tallis rocked on his heels. “On and off the past seven years.”

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