Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,129
Just once. A silent affirmation of agreement and solidarity.
“Is that the one dry-docked in Portugal?” Stewart asked.
Walker nodded, then looked across the room at Persia. “I stole it on my way out of Florida, then changed its registration and name to avoid the Coast Guard.”
“To…?” Stewart asked pointedly.
“To Persia Smiles,” Walker whispered. “It’s Goff’s yacht, Coronado’s Sea Nymph. But I took it and I changed its name to… to Persia Smiles.”
Stewart sat back with a growl, but Walker didn’t care whether Persia’s boss knew how much she meant to him or not. There, across the room, sat the only one whose opinion mattered. And she was smiling.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
As soon as the meeting broke, Walker headed straight to Persia. She couldn’t get to her feet fast enough before he latched onto her hand and said, “We need to talk.”
He took her through Murphy’s kitchen at a fast clip, past platters of grated cheeses, lettuce, and chopped peppers and tomatoes. Past crocks of steaming black beans, chili, and seasoned ground beef. Out the back door and into what looked more like an expansive meadow than a backyard. What a view. It was a charming quilt of crooked green little pastures tied off with rows upon rows of stone fences. The Rock of Cashel, high on the hill, lorded over the quaint village below it. It’d be nice to visit that castle someday. Just. Not. Now.
“Oh, hi, Zack,” she said as she was hurried past one of The TEAM’s baddest bad boys. “This is Walker. Walker, Zack Lennox.”
He acknowledged Zack with a perfunctory, “Ah huh. Pleased to meet you.” And kept going.
“Don’t go far, Persia,” Zack cautioned. Decked in tactical armor and armed with a short stock rifle tucked barrel down and against his chest, he’d only allow them a short moment alone before he broke up the party. Eric Reynolds was also out there somewhere. And, if Kruze Sinclair had caught an express out of Dublin, it wouldn’t be long before he showed, too. There wasn’t much privacy on Murphy’s private estate, and Persia didn’t want to be caught in a compromising position. Which she was pretty certain she would be. Compromised. Soon.
“We need to stay within sight of the house,” she told Walker when he pulled her around the corner of Murphy’s garage. The only cover there was an overgrown rose bush to her left and the thick branches of an old oak tree overhead.
“We’re close enough,” he muttered, then jerked to a quick stop.
Before she knew what he had planned, he’d backed her against the side of the garage. She barely had time to ask, “What’s wrong?” before his mouth mashed onto hers.
“This,” he ground out, his fingers in her hair, holding her head steady as he deepened the kiss, turning it wet and wild and desperate.
She was instantly in heaven inside this man’s arms, encased in sheer muscle. Raw, feral energy rolled off him, engulfing her in their own private bubble of passion and lust. His shoulder muscles bunched with latent power, and that chest... Her nostrils flared, breathing in the scent of the same soap she’d showered with. Only on Walker, it smelled so much better.
He should still be flat on his back in bed. “Talk to me,” she murmured around his lips.
“This,” he growled more earnestly, as if that one word explained everything.
Persia knew then she’d made all the right choices during her life. Because here and now, she was filled with Walker Judge. Tenderness for this lonely warrior crashed over her like a soft ocean wave. Canting her head, she opened her mouth wider to give him better access.
His kisses turned ravishing, as if he couldn’t make love to her mouth fast or good or deep enough. She melted against him, matching her softness to the rigid, hard angles pressing her to the wall. This was physical communication at an elemental level, and she gave back as good as she got. He needed to understand she’d always be there for him. No more words. No need for talk. Just him. Just her.
Growling, his hand slid under her shirt, then swiftly breached the lacy barrier of her bra, pushing it up and out of his way. Cupping her bare breast in his palm, he moaned into her mouth. His callused thumb worked her nipple with sure quick strokes, turning the sensitive bud into an express line straight to her core. Just that sweet, forbidden, carnal touch, with Zack and Eric within shouting distance, changed this reckless rendezvous