Bastard didn’t take it well, but being contractors made it easier to leave than if we’d been fully tied in.
I pick up my whiskey, finish it, and set the glass down hard.
“She stays here,” I say. “Until we know what the hell this is. She doesn’t leave alone. One of us is by her side at all times.”
“Agreed,” Ace says immediately.
North’s already on his feet. He crosses to the enormous cabinet on the far wall and opens it. The inside looks like exactly what it is: insurance. Rows of knives in fitted slots, some modern and brutal, others old enough they could be in a museum. Sword swords, machetes, a pair of kukris, and leather wraps. Higher up, the pieces are more collectors, the ancient looking blades with carved handles. Everything is lined up neatly. We kept a lot of it after we left The Breakers gang, because walking away from men like that without expecting trouble later would’ve been suicidal. We could never be sure they wouldn’t come after us, so we’ve been prepared just in case.
He takes out a dagger, and then sets it on the table.
“Been a minute,” he says, “since we needed these.”
Ace stands and takes his.
I do the same.
North stares back at the screens, expression hardening. “We need answers. Who Adelaide is, who’s after her, all of it. Because if you two are right and she’s our scent match, then we’re about to drag a war straight into paradise to protect her.”
11
ADELAIDE
“Tell me the food is as good as it smells,” I say, because whatever is happening in the kitchen has been teasing me since we got out of the truck in the parking area, and I’m only human.
North glances at me, one corner of his mouth lifting. “It’s incredible.”
We pass through the metal entrance gates, and I stop for half a second because this place is absurd. The zoo closes in the afternoon and then, apparently, transforms into a luau by sunset like that’s a normal use of space. The whole grounds open up wide and glowing, palms swaying overhead, torches already lit around long rows of tables. A stage is set up at the far end on a scale. Beyond it all, the ocean is throwing back the sunset in streaks of gold and pink and deep orange.
“This is ridiculously beautiful,” I say.
North’s hand brushes lightly at the back of my shoulder, guiding me forward through the crowd, yet my body buzzes. “It’s popular,” he says. “Sells out most nights.”
“How often do they do this?”
“Three times a week.”
“Wow, impressive.”
He leads me forward, weaving through people with that same excitement as me, but I notice how different North feels from Luca and Ace. Luca fills a space by force of presence. Ace pulls one toward him without seeming to try. North just moves like he expects the world to make room, and somehow it does.
We reach a table right near the stage. “This is premium seating.”
“Only the best for you.” He winks, and damn him for making my knees weak. He sits across from me where we are practically feet from the stage, yet I have to make a conscious effort not to stare at North.
He changed before we came out here. Cargo pants, dark Hawaiian floral shirt, open at the throat, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Casual, apparently, which would be easier to believe if it wasn’t every woman’s fantasy. Three days’ growth of stubble on his strong jaw, auburn hair falling to his shoulders, one side tucked behind an ear, muscles pushing against his shirt, and he appears just effortlessly sexy.
I drag my attention back to his face. Bad idea, because he catches me gawking.
Not smug about it, just aware, which makes it a million times worse. North leans back slightly in his chair and stares at me with that steady, unreadable attention that leaves me burning up. His gaze drops briefly to my mouth before coming back to my eyes.
It’s quick, but still enough to drive fire through every inch of me. I straighten in my chair because apparently I enjoy suffering. Then he gets to his feet. “I’ll grab us drinks.”
He disappears into the crowd before I can answer, and I watch him go, which I absolutely should not be doing. But there’s no helping it. All that muscle, confidence, and that firm ass. Damn! He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
Which, honestly, should be punishable.
He soon returns with two cocktails in clear cups, orange-pink and cold and decorated with lime, then sets one down in front of me and slides into his seat.
