Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,69

anything, it was that truth always prevailed. Eventually.

Admiral Pickering might’ve thought he’d covered all his bases, but he hadn’t met Navy SEAL LT Walker Judge yet. But he would.

He sure as hell would.

Chapter Twenty-Two

After she boarded KLM’s Airbus bound for the Netherlands, Persia planned to spend the seven-hour flight between JFK International and Schiphol Airport, Amsterdam, researching the escaped convict, former USN SEAL Lieutenant Walker Judge. She hadn’t yet perused the intel Ember had provided, not with the tight schedule she and Izza had been on. Between their quick hop from Reagan National to JFK, then the agonizingly long line through security, followed by a breathless sprint across the terminal to catch their flight, she’d barely had time to grab the bottled water she’d tucked into her bag.

Sinking into her seat, she took a deep, cleansing breath, thrilled that Ember had secured first-class tickets for this seven-hour flight. What a day.

“Man, I hate fast turn arounds,” Izza muttered, “especially when Connor’s out of the country.”

“You’ve got a good babysitter, don’t you?” Persia asked as she eased her bag under the seat ahead of her. She’d changed into TEAM casual, and now looked very much like Izza’s twin sister. Same black polo with the gold TEAM logo high on her left chest, same long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. They even had nearly the same dark brown eyes and olive skin tone.

Yet they were nothing alike. Izza had motherhood stamped all over her. Everything she said revolved around something her husband Connor, or her kids, Jamie and Jax were doing.

“Sure. They’re staying with Zack and his girls until I get back. His wife Mei is always good to take any TEAM kids when quick trips come up. Just… You know… I don’t get to hear what happened at school today, and Jamie wanted to get a haircut, and Jax gets blue whenever his daddy’s not home to read him a story before bed, and…” Izza stretched and yawned. “I hate it when Connor’s overseas. It’s not like I can’t handle things by myself, because I’m no wuss, but…” Her shoulders scrunched. “Guess I just miss him.”

Izza was so much in love with the man she’d married. Automatically, Persia’s mind went to Hotrod. Despite the fact that he was a jerk from the ground up, he would’ve been damned nice to wake up to in the morning. He’d been so tired that night, and she had loved rubbing Aloe Vera gel all over his body. Heck, she’d loved every second, every rub, and every purr spent on him. All over him. The prickle of his recently shaved neck under her palm. The sensual glide of her hands over all those muscles and ridges, dips and bulges. His chest. Man, he had a gorgeous set of well-defined pecs. And that seductive trail down his belly. The man was made of steel in all the best places.

“What on earth are you thinking, girlfriend?” Izza asked. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

Persia blinked like an idiot caught daydreaming. “Yes, err, what?”

“I asked if there’s someone in particular that you miss? My hell, you’re blushing! Come on, spill. Who is he? What’s his name, and why haven’t you told me about him before?”

Persia shook Izza’s astute deduction off, not confessing to anything or anyone. “Who, me? Ha! I wish.” Wished for someone like Hotrod, but not Hotrod. Someone better. Kinder. Someone who would stay… “Trust me, Iz, you’ll be the first to know if that day ever comes.” Which it won’t, because who the hell knows where Hotrod is now? Not me. And who cares? Also not me.

“Aw, it’ll happen. It’s just not your time yet. But you’ll know when it does.”

“I will, huh? How did you know Connor was the one for you?” Persia blinked her lashes and widened her eyes like an owl’s, teasing her friend to spill her own secrets.

Now it was Izza’s turn to blush.

By then the aircraft was in the air, and it was ‘Amsterdam, here we come!’ The flight attendant stopped by and asked if they wanted drinks before dinner. Persia asked for champagne with the promise she’d keep them coming. Izza ordered a hot fudge sundae. Extra fudge. Hold the nuts. Two cherries, please. They settled back for girl talk then.

Persia slid into her talk-show-host persona. “Don’t hold back, Agent Maher. Please. Tell your viewing audience all the juicy details. How’d you snag a hunk like Connor? Was it love at first sight? A