Page 19 of Seal of Honor
“No,” Gabe said, and his tone dared anyone to argue. “Quinn’s Spanish is just as bad as mine, if not worse. Unless Ian…”
Ian shook his head.
“Then Jean-Luc goes with bravo.”
“Gabe, man.” Quinn sighed and dragged a hand over his short hair. If it was anyone else protesting, Audrey suspected from the way Gabe’s shoulders tightened that he’d bite their head off and pick his teeth with their spinal cord.
But the others wisely kept their mouths shut and let Quinn do the talking. “When we were on the teams?—”
“Teams?” Audrey knew of only one branch of the military that referred to itself as the teams, and studied the men with renewed interest. “You’re SEALs?”
At her interruption, they both turned. Having two big, hard men give her such flinty stares should have scared her. And, okay, it did a little.
“Were,” Gabe said at the same time Quinn said, “Yeah.”
“Okay.” She bit her lower lip. “Uh, wow.”
Now that she knew, she wondered why she hadn’t seen it before. Gabe carried himself not like a general but like a Navy SEAL. She’d met a few guys retired from the teams while living in Costa Rica, and Gabe walked like a SEAL, talked like one. He even blinked like one. How could she have not noticed that? Having them on her brother’s side suddenly felt a whole lot more like a benediction than a curse.
“On the teams,” Quinn repeated, returning to their conversation, “we always use the buddy system.”
“Goddammit, I know that,” Gabe snapped.
Quinn didn’t back down, didn’t even blink. “Good, ‘cuz it’s not changing now that we’re out. You’re taking someone who knows the language with you.”
“Mind telling me who? We don’t have enough men.”
Quinn’s jaw tightened. “Maybe HumInt has an asset in the city we can borrow. We’re already borrowing a pilot, so?—”
“I can go with him.” Again, every eye in the room turned to her. Even Harvard stopped working to gape, and she bristled. “What? You need a Spanish speaker, and I’m fluent.”
“Hell. No.”
“Why not?” Anger flaring, she whirled on Gabe and jabbed a finger between his pecs. There was no give at all under his shirt. Like poking a concrete wall. She barely resisted the urge to flatten out her hand and rub it across all those hard muscles. Had to remind herself—twice—that she was annoyed with him. “I’ve lived in Costa Rica for close to ten years now, and I’m as fluent in Spanish as I am in English. And Armando—well, he doesn’t know me personally, but he knows who I am, so he’ll be more likely to talk. I’m an asset, numb nuts. Use me.”
CHAPTER 7
Yeah, Gabe wanted to use her all right, but it had nothing to do with her Spanish fluency. Not unless she cried out in Spanish during an orgasm.
Whoa.
Jesus.
Fuck.
What was that?
He put the brakes on those thoughts as his cock twitched in expectation. It’d been way too long for him if Miss Mouth, here, was this big of a turn-on.
And why the hell did he find her name-calling such an aphrodisiac, anyway?
“No,” he said between his teeth at the same time Quinn said, “That might not be a bad idea.”
“What?”
Quinn shrugged. “Tactically, she’s an advantage.”
And the Machiavellian motherfucker never passed up an advantage. Gabe scrubbed his face hard with his palms. “She’s. Not. Trained.”
