Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,136

know better, he’d gained two inches in height since he’d come aboard. Out here, he was king of these ocean waves, the master of his destiny. The wind off the river furrowed through his short, lush locks like wind through the stalks in a cornfield. She wanted to rake her fingers over that hair and smooth it down while she kissed that handsome man’s lips.

It wasn’t long before Walker cleared the congested confluence where the Tagus River emptied into the Atlantic. With him in the cockpit and the yacht aimed due west, everyone else took a few minutes to refresh and change clothes. It was good to see Alex in cargo shorts and an easy-going light blue t-shirt for a change. Man, he had some impressive calves. Which was par for all the men and women on The TEAM. Most still maintained strict physical condition, a prerequisite for job descriptions that included engaging with belligerents at a moment’s notice, HALO jumping, or running into armed conflicts the world over.

The next thing Alex did was scan the entire yacht for bugs. Brim was at the wheel by then.

Walker couldn’t have looked more shocked when Alex confronted him with a surly, “Are these yours?”

Confounded, he ran a hand over his head, which Persia wouldn’t have noticed, except it gave her a good view of the underside of his impressive bicep. Smooth rounded muscle. Thick, overworked veins. Man, the guy was scrumptious, from head-to-toe and everywhere in between.

“That explains how the shore patrol found us. Where were they?”

“One in the cockpit, the other in the inflatable raft.”

“Shit. He’s known where I’ve been this whole damned time.”

“Not anymore.” Alex chucked both transmitters over the rail and into the ocean. “But whoever planted them knows you’re on the move again.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

Alex clapped Walker’s back and walked away with, “Shit happens.”

But Persia could tell Walker was stunned at the revelation. Just as stunned that Alex had touched him. When he finally stopped staring at Alex’s back, his gaze zeroed on Persia.

She winked and mouthed, “He likes you.”

He waved her off, and that was okay. There was a time Persia hadn’t been sure of her boss, either. But he was beginning to grow on her, and she had to give Alex credit. He took good care of his people, and not once had he asked for any payment in return.

At the moment, he, Senator Sullivan, and Ryder Dahl were sequestered back in the cockpit with Walker. They’d left the hatch open, and Persia knew she should probably be up there strategizing with them. She had fought tooth and nail for Alex’s approval. But the flight from Ireland and the hectic drive to the docks had left her bone-tired.

Izza had gone below deck to the galley. That woman seemed to enjoy cooking, so Persia let her. Brimley had taken possession of one of the recliners just off the cockpit. Rover was still roaming the ship like he was happy to be back aboard.

Okay then. Why not? She just needed forty winks.

Persia settled into the comfortable recliner opposite Brimley. He didn’t seem inclined to talk, and she was glad for the companionable silence. The ocean air was cool and so, so easy to breathe. She hadn’t been near the water since she’d left Florida, and she’d missed it. The busy Potomac River that ran between the District and Virginia, didn’t count.

It wasn’t long before her eyes grew heavy. The gentle sway of the yacht and the fresh salt air worked wonders. She fell asleep to the sounds of gulls and sea and freedom.

Walker couldn’t have been happier. Finally. He was back where he belonged, at sea with his troubles behind him. The evidence of human trafficking he’d found was safe, and he had Kenny’s knife sheath strapped at his side again. Brim had proven to be one helluva surprise.

For now, Walker wanted nothing more than to just stand over Persia and watch her sleep. Man, she was a beauty, with her long elegant fingers clasped together over her chest and her cheek tucked into her shoulder. She’d changed into cutoff jeans and a simple pink t-shirt. Her long, lush hair was tied in a ponytail, like Izza’s.

To look at the two women, it was easy to think they were sisters. Both were olive-skinned, dark-haired, dark-eyed, and intense as hell when working. But Persia was sleek and tall, like a model straight out of a swimsuit calendar, whereas Izza was shorter. She was just as