Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,42
in this office. But today, he looked leaner and meaner, as if he were wound tight and was about to snap. His short-sleeved black polo revealed muscled arms lined with veins that pulsated with some internal angst. He radiated enough hostility to power Alexandria, maybe all of Virginia.
Persia tried again. “Anything I can do to help?”
He looked at her then, his eyes sharp and his face hard. “Sure. Pull up a chair. We’re tracking a couple offshore accounts. Least we’re trying to.”
“Without knowing dollar amounts, bank account numbers, IP addresses, or fucking passwords,” Beau intoned gloomily.
“Or the precise name on those bank accounts…” Ember murmured, her usual excitement dulled by her attention on her screen. “That last one took me all the way to Beijing, then Cuba, before it bounced me back to Key West. Lost it there.”
“Which makes us think we’re looking for an offshore bank somewhere in the Caymans. Maybe,” Beau muttered darkly. Rolling his shoulder, he ran a quick hand through his thick, gorgeous, chocolate brown hair. “We just don’t know anything for certain, damn it.”
Beau and Adam were two of the hottest males on this TEAM. But the way Beau’s hair settled back into a shiny mass that nearly tumbled into his eyes the second he leaned forward, made Persia’s mind wander to Hotrod and his tempestuous, ocean-blue eyes. The scrape of his scruff on her tender chin and lips. The guy was as ordinary as guys came. Yet even there, in an office where Persia wasn’t needed, maybe wasn’t even wanted, she knew Walker had wanted her.
Then he’d left. But…
No. Just no! She swallowed hard, forcing herself to… Let it go! He’d made his choice, damn him, and she was making hers now, too. Enough was enough!
She drummed her fingertips to the countertop in case anyone noticed her momentary lapse. “Tell Alex I’ll be home, if or when, he needs me,” she informed Ember and Beau—or whoever was listening—with as much sarcasm as she could muster. She needed to work for a living, damn it. Not just show up and collect a paycheck.
As if he’d been waiting for his cue, Junior Agent Zack Lennox shoved the fire doors open with a boisterous, over the top, “Good morning, people!”
Gah. Just what Persia didn’t need, another drool-worthy, muscle-bound male in her life. Didn’t matter who they were, they all reminded her of Hotrod. The ass.
Zack was one of those chipper, early-riser types, always raring to go and forever on top of the world. Today, he wore the standard TEAM black on black, with the addition of a short-waisted leather bomber jacket. Open over his broad chest and trimmed with silver zippers up the cuffs, it gave Persia an idea. Line these guys up, and they’d make a perfect Chippendale-style, Bad Boys of The TEAM calendar. Or they could call it Dark and Dangerous, something equally panty-melting. It’d sell like hotcakes, especially if she talked these guys into showing a little skin. Would Zack be willing? Would Mark or Beau? Would their wives let them?
Her heart skipped a beat at the concept. These guys were all drop-dead handsome, and what woman didn’t want a little eye-candy hanging in her office—or kitchen. All proceeds could go to a local charity. If she worked it right, this could turn into a yearly tradition. Might even go national. Maybe international. Note to self: run this spectacular idea past Izza.
“Hey,” Zack purred, as he rested those incredible guns on the customer service counter. Despite being happily married and the father of three adorable daughters, his baritone was always a sexy rumble to Persia’s ears. Better yet, he’d made eye contact with her, something Ember and Beau had yet to do. “You ready to go to work?”
Now that was a stupid question. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “No, Zack, I get out of bed and dress up for nothing every day.”
At that snarky retort, his dark browns sparked, then skated down and back up her body again. Like every other testosterone-packed male in this place, a smile simmered on his lips. She didn’t know what ethnicity he was, but Zack’s coloring matched hers. Yet he gave off more of an island vibe, as if his next stop was beach volleyball against a team of hot babes.
“I take it you don’t care for TEAMwear.”
“If you mean the black-on-black ensemble you guys all do so well…” She rolled her eyes. “Frankly, it’s blasé. You people need to lighten up. You’re