Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,165

redolent in all its turquoise majesty, beckoned. To his right, the bungalow that housed the sexy goddess he adored. Walker had a ring in his swim trunks’ pocket. If there were a better place in the world to propose, he didn’t know it.

Familiar scents of salt and sea rolled ashore with the breakers. The ridge of waving sea oats between him and the shoreline of this tiny island made a decent privacy screen, in case things went the way he hoped.

For now, his yacht bobbed calmly at the deep end of Persia’s sturdy dock. He meant to buy it when it came up on the next FBI auction. The last two months traveling from California, through the Panama Canal, and onto Florida, had been time well spent. He’d gotten to know Persia better. He’d swum with her every chance he could. They’d played on every shore they’d dropped anchor on, as well as on every flat surface the yacht offered. For the first time in a long damned time, Walker hadn’t felt the need to look over his shoulder. Not even once.

But of all the places they’d been, this was the only place to propose.

After off-loading Goff to the local authorities in San Diego, and after answering three days of questions from those same authorities, Walker and Persia had finally been allowed to hoist anchor and sail away. By then, Alex, Zack, Izza, and Connor had flown onto Virginia. Senator Sullivan was back on the Hill. Walker didn’t know precisely where Brim and Rover had gone, only that they’d disappeared the same time Alex did.

The Navy scandal was no longer front-page news. Except for an occasional uneducated hater, America and the world had accepted Walker’s innocence and moved on. The body lying beneath Goff’s headstone? One of California’s poor homeless, a middle-aged woman. No name. No birth certificate. No DMV license. No record in any government system. Which made the discovery even sadder.

There was no way to know who’d killed her, but the blunt force trauma to the back of her skull testified her death had been violent. Turned out the local medical examiner had also been one of Goff’s buddies, which was why those morgue photos looked authentic. They were. Goff had actually posed for them. But there was no way to prove he’d murdered the woman, and his ME buddy consistently declared he’d only done what Goff had told him to do. That Goff provided the body that went into the casket. Not him.

None of that mattered to the US Attorney General. Goff’s ME buddy went down for complicity. He and Goff were now sitting in the Navy brig in Miramar, San Diego, hopefully on their way to Leavenworth.

Walker wished he’d known then, when he’d worked for Goff, what he knew now. He’d give his last dollar for a time machine to go back and prevent Emily’s abduction. Problem was, there were so many predators like Goff and his lackeys in the world today. And plenty more children who needed saving.

He glanced up at the sound of Persia’s bare feet padding over the sand. She’d brought two frosted bottles of beer, a couple glasses, and she was wearing nothing but the slip of a halter top dress he’d bought her in San Diego. Mint green had never looked so good. This was their coming home celebration, and that dress would look just as good on the sand. Nothing was going to spoil what Walker had planned.

The longnecks made him smile. This would be their first alcoholic drink in months, and that beer was old. She’d bought it months before she’d gone to the Netherlands to bring his ass home. But he’d drink it. Hell, he’d toast to their new life together, even with stale beer.

Tugging her onto his lap when she drew close, he set them on the wooden tray he’d located by the blanket.

Twisting around on his thighs, she tipped forward and set two frosty glasses with the bottles. Her delightful breasts filled the cups of that halter top perfectly. Fully. She was ripe, sensual seduction personified, and her nipples were diamond hard. This woman had proven she could be a handful on the job any day, but she was his handful today.

Just that fast, every muscle in his body turned to steel. His palms settled on her hip, his fingers splayed, already absorbing the seductive sensation of her bare skin under the thin fabric of the dress. He licked his lips, wanting another kiss. Another taste.