Page 24 of Resurgent
The unease is evident on Charlotte’s face as I come back outside to the lower terrace where we’ve been hanging out talking for the last few hours after dinner. We’d started out on the chaise loungers, moved to the hammocks, and finally ended up in the hot tub. Although a string of lights and a few lit candles illuminate the terrace, the jungle beyond us is dark and endless. The waves crash rhythmically in the distance and, coupled with the night sounds around us, it feels like we’re the only two people on earth. Our conversation had begun with the bucket list again, but before long, I’d found myself telling her about my life in general—the places I’d been and the things I’d done with my SEAL brothers. We’d been interrupted by a knock at the door, and I’d gone to answer it, stopping first to grab my knife and slip it into the back waistband of my swim shorts where it was easily accessible.
“Relax. It was just room service.” I lay the knife back on the table.
“At ten o’clock?”
“I promised to feed you chocolate cake and expensive champagne,” I say, holding up the silver ice bucket and plastic-wrapped plate. I squint at the label. “Although I’m pretty sure this is tequila.”
“Really?” Her pleased smile is infectious, and I can’t help but smile back. Somehow, despite the crazy circumstances and the shit I’m facing, I’ve never had more fun, or enjoyed a woman’s company more. Placing both the tequila and cake within easy reach of the hot tub, I climb back into the steaming water. I pull the bottle from the bucket of ice and pour two glasses. “I like you, Charlotte Windsor. Even though I have no idea what my future holds, and I might be in jail for the rest of my life, there’s nowhere I’d rather be tonight than with you.” I hand her one glass and hold up the other. “When in Rome, or Mexico as the case may be…” I shrug. “Maybe tequila’s the new champagne.”
She smiles and clinks her glass to mine, before downing the contents. “I’ll have another.”
While I pour, I see her gaze fall on the knife, and I wonder what’s going through that pretty head of hers. Her expressive eyes hide very little, and in the course of a minute, I see fear, hopelessness, sadness, and then fierce determination flash in them as she seems to come to some sort of monumental decision.
She takes the glass from me, drains it, and sets it on the wooden edge of the hot tub with a soft thud. “Is there any lime?”
I hand her a wedge. She takes it and, maintaining eye contact, brings it to her lips and sucks on it sensually. “Just making sure it’s worth the squeeze,” she says, her voice laced with innuendo.
My cock twitches. Hell, it more than twitches. It fucking tries to leap out of my pants. “You may want to slow down on the tequila, sweetheart.”
“Why? I’m just having a little fun.” She bats her long eyelashes at me innocently, throwing my words back at me, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Touché.”
“Besides, a guy I know once said it’s always a good time to get drunk. Tonight, it seems especially appropriate. I’ve been kidnapped at knifepoint and, thanks to you, escaped from the most notorious drug cartel. You’ve been dead for the last three months and have the government of one country and a drug kingpin from another after you. If ever anyone deserved to get drunk, it’s us tonight.”
I grin at her. She has a point. “Miss Always-in-Control wants to lose it a little?”
There’s the devil in her smile as she looks me straight in the eye and says, “Never underestimate the power of fuck it.”
