Page 71 of Smooth Sailing

So he gave her a squeeze and said, “Babe.”

She twisted her neck to look up at him. “I should know, Harlan.”

Fuck, but she’d latched onto his name stronger than she had his arm, and she had a damn strong hold on him.

“How bad is it?” Eight asked.

“The worst,” Mace didn’t delay in answering.

Eight made a move to put distance between them. “Let’s do this.”

“No!” Diana shouted. “I should know.”

Mace looked at Hugger.

“Don’t look at him,” she demanded. “Look at me.”

“Why are you in this?” Mace asked her, and Hugger’s hold got tighter.

“That isn’t relevant,” she returned.

“I disagree.” Mace stood his ground.

“Okay then, it’s none of your business,” she retorted.

“That I can’t disagree about,” he replied, looking her straight in the eye, which meant he’d made an experienced guess, and that guess was correct.

Hugger felt Diana shiver, knew what that was about, and growled to Mace, “Lay off.”

Mace switched to looking Hugger right in the eye, he nodded once, then said, “Prelims on the DNA came back. Multiples.”

Oh fuck.

Heat came at him from Eight.

Blistering heat.

Fuck.

“Multiple what?” Diana asked.

“Don’t answer that,” Hugger gritted at Mace, let Diana go, but took her hand and pulled her away from the huddle.

“Harlan,” she complained as they went.

When he got her far enough away, he turned her toward him, bent so they were face to face, and caught her with both hands on either side of her neck.

“You don’t want to know this, Diana.”

“I do, Harlan.”

“Baby, step back from this. Let us finish talking. Then we’ll go back to your crib and you’re on Suzette, like normal. And we’ll stay on target and get deeper into it.”

Her head jerked.

Fuck.

Her face saturated with pain.

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