Samurai Game(40)

Tucker looked wounded. “Seriously, ma’am, that bite hurt. He was truly vicious. Lily insisted on giving me a tetanus shot or something. With a needle.” He shuddered dramatically.

“Poor baby,” Sam soothed. Tucker had been wounded several times and he’d never made so much as a whimper. The idea of him whining over a needle was ludicrous—but funny. “Quit interrupting. We’d gotten into the house without anyone knowing and the idea was to get out the same way—like ghosts. That’s what we do. But that Frenchman—and the weather—had other ideas. Apparently he’d been recruited in high school and once he’d gained a position in the government allowing him to feed the terrorists intel on the movement of money and weapons, he began to work in earnest. From what I understand, someone became suspicious and cut off his line of communication. Immediately the terrorists ‘kidnapped’ him, hoping that by doing so, they’d throw the government off the scent and they could use him if France ransomed him. Of course, we didn’t know any of that; we just were sent to get him out.”

“Freaky little bastard,” Gator commented.

“The next thing we know, we’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest and we’ve got everyone and their mothers shooting at us,” Sam continued.

Azami raised her long lashes and looked at Sam, her eyes laughing and a little challenging. “So why did you really go into that bar?” she asked. “Because I don’t believe you would do so unless you had no other choice.”

There was a brief moment of silence. The men exchanged long, knowing grins.

“She’s not so easy to put one over on, is she, Sam?” Ian asked.

Azami smiled at him, looking as serene and composed as ever. “You may joke all you like, but clearly you are professionals, and in the middle of a rescue mission during a hurricane, something very compelling would have to drive you to stop what you’re doing and get trapped in a bar that was being decimated by the storm.”

“True,” Sam agreed, “but Ian really did notice the sign and we’d stopped for a second because the river had flooded and our escape route was cut off.”

“The Frenchman made a run for it,” Ian took up the story. “Straight into that bar. Bullets were flying, the river rising, and we had to make a quick decision—let him go or get him back.”

“Hell no, he wasn’t getting away,” Sam said emphatically. “I thought about shooting him in the leg. But that little bastard was coming back with us, even if I had to carry him every step of the way.”

“I can see you have a stubborn streak,” Azami observed.

“Ha!” Ian agreed. “You don’t know the half of it. He was going in after the Frenchman no matter what anyone said. I sure wasn’t going to let him go alone.”

Gator flashed a cocky grin. “Sam really did nearly shoot our runaway, but Ian jumped through that window after him and then it was on.”

“And you all followed him, of course,” Azami said.

“Well, ma’am,” Jonas said. “There was liquor in there and no one was minding the bar. Ian is Irish. We had to make certain there was something left.”

“We all had a mighty thirst after all that runnin’ from those bullets, ma’am,” Gator added.

“How did you get away from the crocodiles, or is that part of your embellishments?” Azami asked.

“Embellishments?” Ian said, astounded. “She’s casting aspersions on our story, gentlemen. There were crocodiles swimming around inside and Gator was gyrating on the bar. Jonas managed to fall on the Frenchman, and I was in the water, my life in deadly peril. I hadn’t even managed to grab hold of a bottle of good Irish whiskey and there I was about to die. No self-respecting Irishman would die without at least one drink.”

“How terrible,” Azami murmured in sympathy.

Ian nodded, much more pleased with her reaction. “Now you’re beginning to understand the seriousness of the situation.” He glared at his fellow teammates as they burst into laughter again.

“Tell me who this Shark is that came to your rescue,” Azami prompted.

Sam started to reach out to take her hand and stopped himself. He had not asked for permission from her brothers and she’d told him a couple of times about public displays of affection. He sighed. He was going to have to find it in himself to keep his hands off of her, even when he seemed to need to touch her.

His eyes met hers and she smiled at him. Just for him. Her eyes warmed slowly, going from that cool darkness to molten heat.

I want to touch you. Skin to skin. The admitting of his secret need, even if it was only a whisper in her mind, made him feel closer to her.

Azami shifted again, a slight, subtle movement that put her even closer to the bed where he sat. Her bare arm slid against his, the merest of brushes, yet he felt her touch all the way to his bones, branding him hers.

“We call him Shark because he’s good in water, ma’am,” Tucker said.

Azami smiled at them, leaning against the bed, making the movement so natural Sam was certain no one would think twice about it. “Enough addressing me as ma’am. My brothers and I are quite fine with using the more personal first name. We don’t find it insulting. Please call me Azami; I will consider it an honor.”

Sam couldn’t help but stare at her. She sounded so demure and sweet, her long lashes veiling her eyes, her lips both fascinating and alluring as she spoke.

Tucker nodded. “Azami, then. Shark’s name is Tom. He recently joined our team and like we said, it was his first mission with us. We were still feeling our way with him. He didn’t hesitate at all. He was in that water, swimming under the water to Sam and me. Ian was splashing like crazy and Gator was doing his wild Cajun thing to keep the crocodiles’ attention focused on him while Shark worked to move that tree off of them.”