Page 83 of Body Count
As Fairchild watched, Rona guided the big ship up and out of the water, and the darkness of the sea gave way to the slightly lesser darkness of the storm that was now lashing the shore. Inless than a minute, the vessel was hovering alongside the terrace, where Reece was now waiting, finishing Slayn’s wine.
“I’ll let him in,” Fairchild said.
She jumped up from her seat and headed back down the corridor, her heart thumping steadily inside her chest as she went. She could hear Dutton and Nash stomping along behind her. Inside, the baby was kicking. Already a fighter.
When she reached the starboard hatch, Fairchild stopped and pressed the control button on the wall. The hatch opened, and a boarding ramp extended down to where Reece was standing. He drained his glass and set it on the ground beside him where it immediately started filling with rain. Then he climbed the ramp.
Fairchild’s pulse jumped a little as she watched him. He was dressed in a form-fitting bodyglove like hers, only his was dripping wet from the sea and the storm. Damn, he looked good. Really good.
All three of her guys did.
Once Reece was inside the ship, he cradled Fairchild’s face in his hands—the same hands that had just ended Victor Slayn’s life—and he looked deep into her eyes.
“It’s done,” he said.
Funny, Fairchild thought as he kissed her. Those words typically signaled the end of something, but this didn’t feel like an ending at all. If anything, it felt more like a beginning—the beginning of a long and sultry love affair with her three dominant Mercs. And the beginning of her new life as a mom.
She couldn’t wait to get started.
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