Page 29 of Assassin's Game
Eli shrugged. “Just seems to be the norm when I’m with you,” he said helpfully. I narrowed my eyes, hoping he would heed the warning. “I’m thinking we need to find a way to help you work off some of that frustration.”
I snorted. “Got a boxing ring?”
The amusement slid from his face, replaced by something much darker, more intense. “Whatever you need, Beautiful, I’ll provide.”
“Would you stop that?” I snapped.
I was becoming a shrew. It wasn’t a good look on me, but I couldn’t help it—the flirting had to stop.
“Stop what?” he asked. Up ahead, our SUV sat on the side of the road, waiting. Eli flashed his lights, a welcome of sorts, as he approached. “Being nice?”
“Yes!” I rubbed my eyes, wishing I could get rid of the ache behind them. “Stop being”—I struggled for the right word—“this!”
Passing the SUV, Eli maneuvered into a three-point turn and brought us to a stop behind the other vehicle. He turned the key in the ignition, then shifted in the seat to face me over the dog’s head. The intense look was back, subverting the flirty playboy, and with it was the faintest hint of vulnerability, of confusion, as if he didn’t quite know what to say. So he didn’t. We sat in silence for a minute, long enough that Titus got out of the SUV and started to walk toward us.
Eli’s amber gaze flicked to Titus, then to me. Meeting those eyes sent a frisson of need down my spine.
“I think,” he finally said, his gaze burrowing deep into my soul, “that I’d do just about anything for you, Mikaela, but stopping isn’t one of them. I—”
The thump of Titus’s fist on my window shattered the moment. Eli’s lips went tight as he turned to get out of the truck. I opened my door.
“Everything okay?” Titus asked, his gaze hard on Eli as the younger man rounded the Humvee.
“It’s fine,” I said. Gesturing Maris out of the SUV, I waved in Eli’s general direction without daring to meet his eyes. “This is Eli Agozi. Eli, Titus Webster.”
The two men didn’t shake hands, I noticed. Eli extended his when Maris joined us.
“My sister, Maris Nixon.”
Maris’s smile was genuine in the way only Maris could be. “Hello.”
I expected Eli to say something flirty, to charm my sister the way he’d tried to charm me. He didn’t. His look was friendly, his handshake firm, but there was none of the intensity he apparently reserved only for me. Not sure which of us was the lucky girl there—the man irritated me, but I couldn’t deny my relief when he didn’t seem equally, or possibly more, fixated on Maris. She was beautiful, after all.
She was also his age.
“We’re going to the house,” I said, then nodded toward the SUV. “Follow us up?”
Titus raised his cell for us to see. “Still no signal?”
“No.” I shot Eli a frown. “Probably not anytime soon.” Which should worry me—if we were separated, we had no way to contact each other. I’d have to make sure we stayed together, but in the enemy camp—if that’s what this was—that was the best strategy anyway.
Titus was thinking hard, I could tell. Meeting his eyes, I tried to get him to understand we’d fill him in later, on our own terms. And I didn’t use our safe word, the one that would tell him I was in trouble. When he gave me a short nod, I knew he got my message.
“Let’s go then,” he said. “Sooner the better.”
“Maris, want to ride with us?” I asked. Anything for a buffer between Eli and me. Even five minutes in the Humvee alone was more than I could handle right now.
“Sure.”
We settled in, and Eli pulled around our SUV to lead the way back.
“What’s the dog’s name?” Maris asked Eli, gesturing to where he sat on the floorboard, his nose close to Eli’s leg as if he needed some part of them touching no matter the obstacles.
The glance Eli gave the creature could only be described as proud. I mean, the dog was nothing special, handsome in his own way but without any clear breed. Not bulky like a rottweiler, but maybe a lab or Doberman or possibly shepherd mix, given the length of his hair. And yet Eli’s expression as he stared at his pet, indulgent and affectionate, was almost as potent as a man making goo-goo eyes at a baby. I could feel the knot of irritation literally dissolve in my belly as something warmer and much more powerful took its place.
“This is Diesel.”
At the sound of his name, Diesel thumped his tail against my foot. Maris put out her hand, palm up, and the dog gave it a sniff and a lick.
