Page 11 of Rogue
Chapter Seven
Noah
“Perfect,” I say, coming back over to the wheel. “Well done.”
McKenzie’s eyes are shining. “That was fun.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” I can’t help but grin. I love sailing. Always have. Seeing the excitement I always feel reflected in her eyes is heady. Or maybe it’s just those bluer-than-blue eyes that make me feel like a fucking superhero.
“Now what?”
“Play your cards right, and I’ll teach you to sail. But there’s not much to do for a while except enjoy the ride. You can go below and change into your swimsuit if you want. Lie out on the deck, soak in some sun. Relax. I’ll keep an eye out for other boats and make sure we stay on course.”
I show her where the cabin is, and she disappears down the steps, emerging fifteen minutes later wearing a tiny black bikini that reveals luscious curves worthy of a centerfold. I’m starting to think this was a mistake. Twenty-four-hour days in the Iraqi desert are going to look like a picnic compared to the torture of spending the next ten days in close proximity with McKenzie wearing next to nothing and me not being able to do a damned thing about it. I may have to sleep on the deck to keep away from that intoxicating skin of hers. If she were anyone else, I’d have already fucked her into next week and back again.
“You have a nice boat.”
“Thanks.” I nod toward the back of the boat where there’s a full-size cushioned chaise lounge. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She thanks me, makes her way to the chaise, and stretches out on her back, closing her eyes against the sun. I stay where I am, taking advantage of the opportunity to study her unobserved. Uptight or not, the woman is sexy as hell. Her breasts are full and firm, her stomach flat, her skin the color of pale caramel and smooth as silk. I find myself imagining tracing the curve of her neck with my tongue as I cup her sex in my hand, my fingers buried in her wet heat as she arches up…
Godfuckingdammit.
I stuff the charts I’d been looking at into the cabinet beneath the wheel and slam the door closed harder than I intended. I’ve got to get my head out of my ass. McKenzie sits up abruptly, her eyes flying to mine. When she sees that everything’s okay, she relaxes a bit, but keeps her eyes on me. “Do you have to steer the whole time?” she asks curiously.
“No.” I cross the deck to where she’s lying and sit down next to her on the edge of the boat, my feet dangling over the edge.
We sit in companionable silence, the waves lapping against the hull as the wind carries us. After a while, she props herself up on one elbow and says, “Thank you for taking me. It means a lot. It’s important to me to do this for my brother.”
“What happened to him?”
“As I told you, he was a Navy SEAL.” She flashes a sidelong glance at me but I keep my face impassive, betraying nothing. She takes a deep breath. “He was shot in Pakistan on a mission. From what I’ve been told, there was an American hostage in Afghanistan who was in immediate danger. If he were to be taken across the border into Pakistan, it was doubtful he’d be seen again. Liam’s team was dropped by helicopter in a remote mountain area where intelligence said the hostage, an aid worker named Steven Morris, was being held. But the sound of the helicopters tipped off his captors, and they moved Dr. Morris before the SEALs could get to him.
“Liam’s team tracked them into Pakistan. They weren’t authorized to leave Afghanistan, but Liam couldn’t leave the doctor behind to be killed, so in the middle of the night, under his command, his team infiltrated the house where Dr. Morris was being held. Apparently, the SEALs were fired on, and they fired back. Liam was shot and killed.”
The pain in her eyes arouses every protective instinct I have, and it’s all I can do not to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything’s going to be okay. But it’s clearly not. Her brother is dead, and he’s left a hell of a mess behind that has put her smack in the middle of a shitload of trouble.
I offer her the only consolation I can. “He died a hero.”
“Yes,” she says, but I know it’s a cold comfort.
“Did they save the doctor?”
She nods. “They did. He returned to California, where the foundation he worked for is based. I don’t know a lot more. The Navy says it didn’t happen. They say no troops were in Pakistan. The official story is that Liam was shot during the initial rescue attempt in Afghanistan. And no one’s saying why an elite special forces team was sent in to rescue an aid worker in the first place. Not to imply that his life wasn’t valuable, but aid workers don’t typically command that sort of rescue.”
“How do you know that’s what really happened?”
“His best friend told me. He wanted me to know what kind of man Liam was.” Her voice wavers and she looks away, but not before I see the tears well up in her eyes. “But I already knew.”
“I’m sure that was a consolation for your mom.”
“My mom is dead,” she says quietly. “She was diagnosed with colon cancer when I was sixteen. There was nothing they could do. She died two years later.”
Fuck.
“So it’s just you and your dad? Do you have any other siblings?”
“My dad died of a heart attack a year after my mom died. It was just me and Liam.”
