Page 13 of Hazard

It was like he came out of a slow-moving moment, suddenly everything rushed at him all at once. He looked over at his teammates across from them. All of them were grinning, but Iceman, Preacher, GQ, and Kodiak were giving him you’re-fucked looks.

Frustrated by the entire situation, along with his unwanted attraction to Leigh that made every damn thing more complicated, he sat back away from her, his fists clenching, instinctively in defense mode, and to keep from touching her.

“There’s something to be said for eating sweet things,” Skull said. What did he expect when he’d allowed himself to be so transparent around men who were trained to be just as perceptive as he was?

The meaning of Skull’s words went completely over Leigh’s head, or she was much too distracted by what had just happened between them to really hear his words, but Hazard knew exactly what he was insinuating, and it had to do with Leigh and oral sex. His gender, as a whole, were nothing but cavemen at heart. He gave Skull a dark look at the same time he wanted to go down on her hot little core, and Skull was more than aware that was exactly what Hazard was thinking.

From behind Skull, Kodiak gave an inelegant snort. Every one of his brothers was very aware. Again, because they were all primal doorkickers and pipehitters, cut from the same cloth. Animals. All of them…including him.

But Leigh didn’t deserve to be treated like this, and Hazard’s scowl sobered them all. They started picking up their table, getting ready to leave. Leigh grabbed their dirty dishes and piled them all on a tray, then whisked it away.

“Don’t say those things around her, Skull.”

“No? Like you can pretend, my friend?—”

“Nothing is going to happen between us,” he hissed.

"Sure, of course not," he drawled, his disbelief thick in his voice. "You have this powerful push-pull thing going on between you. There is a thin line between love and hate.”

“She drives me crazy most of the time,” Hazard said. “But I don’t dislike her.” Leigh inspired many emotions from him, but none of that even came anything close to animosity.

“Okay, wrong word choices,” Skull conceded as he rubbed his fingers along Bones's coat. “You’re trying to resist her, but you can’t resist her. She fucks with your head. At the end of the day, you still want her. All that complaining you were doing when you were detailing her was nothing but frustration.”

“You done, there, Dr. Phil?” He wasn’t going to get into a deeper discussion with Skull about his relationship with Leigh, mostly because she was fucking with his head and his libido.

Skull leaned his arms on the table and grinned. “When you’re fixated on a female, you might as well give it up. We’re direct-action guys. We’re hard-wired to go after what we want, and as I already established in my previous observation, you want her. Operation Prickly Beauty is in progress. She’s already under your skin.” Annoyed at Skull’s succinct and accurate insight, Hazard clenched his jaw.

“I’m watching her because it’s my job.” His tone was short with impatience.

Skull held up both of his hands as if to back off. “Saying it doesn’t make it so, brother.”

Figuring that was the end of their conversation, Hazard waited as Leigh started toward them. He was going to escort her to their room and make sure she got some sleep.

Suddenly, a booming, accented voice rang out in the room. “My friends! I have returned to assist you, you lucky devils.”

Hazard looked over at a man who was standing at the entrance to the Mess Hall. He was tough and sinewy, with a lean build, and looked to be in his fifties. His steel gray hair was thinning on top, but he suspected if ribbed about it, his effusive personality glossed right over it. He regarded everyone with kind, gentle eyes, his charisma was charging the air around him, his mouth in a wide smile that would have put Bozo to shame.

“Jose Molina, as I live and breathe,” Iceman said. “You’re back for more?”

“I am, my friend. It’s good to see you all.”

Jose was a drug expert who had worked with the embassy, DEA constantly, and the SEALs before, and particularly with their team. In fact, his advice had saved the whole team from death. He was knowledgeable about everything to do with drug traffickers, Colombia, and the turf wars. He reminded Hazard of an older Enrique Iglesias. They were lucky to have him.

“I found this wayward traveler in the hall. He says he’s looking for Senorita Leigh Waterford.”

Hazard scrutinized the guy immediately from head to toe. His conclusion was that he wasn’t a threat, no weapon, just a laptop case, and his Poindexter glasses. Yet beneath the dark frames, he was handsome. Nothing about the man caused any alarms.

Leigh stepped forward. “I’m Leigh Waterford.”

“Leigh,” the man said, “Nick Tremont.”

“Nick! So glad you made it okay.” She rushed past Hazard and took his offered hand. Hazard supposed women would be drawn to this guy with his dark, tousled black hair, the just-there stubble on his face, and that he was a definite rival for Leigh’s affections, but Leigh could make her own decisions about that.

“Yes, it was a long flight,” he said, holding her hand longer than was necessary. “I was hoping you would have some time to go over the presentation. I have everything detailed in my report.”

“Of course, we can do that now.”

“You might want to let up on that scowl, man because if looks could kill…”

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