Chapter 12 #2
Much as she would like to disagree, he made a point. “Ne’er have I avoided hurt,” she said hesitantly, thinking as she spoke. “’Tis a coward who would do that.”
He shrugged, and afore he was able to mask it, she saw a gleam of victory in his mischievous blue eyes.
“You have tricked me with your web of words,” she accused.
“That depends on whether you’ve agreed to stay, or not.”
“We have a saying in my land. ‘Beware of rogues with lustsome charms, they lure maids with their honey words.’”
“Honey,” he said, standing and pulling her into his arms, “we have a proverb here, too. ‘Beware of ladies who withhold their honey, men will eat you in the end.’”
“I like my saying better than yours,” she said on a moan. He had his hands on her buttocks pressing her into the cradle of his hips, and he was nibbling at her ear.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
She was not fooled by his false submission. “I have not yet agreed to stay,” she insisted.
So said the fly to the spider, just before being caught. He, meaning the spider, put the final knot in her noose...uh, web by offering her the ultimate temptation.
“How would you like to take a bubble bath?”
Even he had never tried THAT before...
Zach was a regular sex machine. Or at least he planned to be. Once he got off the frickin’ phone.
He had seven hours before he had to get Britta back to the base, and he grudgingly admitted that he would have to allow at least three hours for sleep. Otherwise, she would be dead on her feet in the grueling rotation of exercises this week.
With his cordless phone in hand, he checked his messages as he walked Britta up the stairs. Thank God for multi-tasking!
“Mayhap this is a bad idea. Mayhap I should return to the base and get some sleep. Mayhap—”
“No, no, no! This is a very good idea. It’ll make you relax and smell good and, did I tell you, bubble baths give soldiers stamina to fight on the field? Something about proteins or minerals or extra oxygen in the bubbles.” What a load of crap!
“It does?” She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. “Do you take bubble baths?”
“All the time.”
“Methinks all these orgasms are draining my body of strength, and I will be unable to keep up with WEALS for the next sennight.”
“Baby, this is the God’s honest truth,” he made a sign of the cross over his heart, “orgasms are good for the body. I can show you some books on the subject, once you learn to read. Too much sex is never a bad thing.”
“Well...” She was still unconvinced.
Man, I must be losing my touch. He held the opened bottle of the Calgon bubble bath under Britta’s nose. His mother’s habit of leaving all her beauty products in her wake was finally bearing fruit for him.
“Lavender.” She sighed.
Well maybe lavender, not fruit, he joked with himself.
“Well, mayhap I can stay a little bit longer.”
He did a mental high five.
“Okay, honey, take off your clothes while I run the water in the tub and pour in the bubble crap...I mean, liquid. Once you get in, let the water go up to about an inch from the top.”
He glanced away as Britta eased her nude body into the old-fashioned, free-standing tub. If he looked, he’d be in there with her, and then he’d never complete a few urgent tasks before hitting the sack.
He got Britta settled in the tub overflowing with bubbles. He’d poured a half bottle of the Calgon in before reading the directions. She was half asleep before he even left the bathroom, her neck resting on the back lip of the tub, her long hair hanging over the side.
Then he rushed downstairs, removing his clothes in the process.
While he walked through the house, checking on locks and dimming lights, he studied the display window on his phone, and groaned.
Twelve more calls to check! Calls which had been made to his house, not cell phone.
He listened to all the messages and knew that he had to answer a few of the more urgent ones.
“Jack Delaney here.”
“Zach Floyd. You called earlier?”
Delaney was the hotshot lawyer his grandfather had hired. He was considered the F. Lee Bailey of international law and high profile legal disputes, well worth his exorbitant fees. “Yes, glad you got back to me tonight. Listen, can you meet with me tomorrow morning? I can come in on the Red Eye.”
“Yeah. Sure. I suppose. Is there a problem?”
Delaney laughed. “Boy, there are problems and then there are problems. Arsallah is playing hardball. I won’t go into details over the phone, but you need a contingency plan in case things don’t go the way we want...at first.”
Zach knew exactly what he meant by a contingency plan. They’d discussed it before. Taking Sammy into deep hiding on a short-term, or maybe even long-term basis. How the SEALs command would feel about that was a given. Zach’s ass would be fried.
“Your grandfather’s coming with me.”
Zach groaned.
“I can tell him you’d rather speak with me alone, if you want. You’re the client.”
“No, that’s all right. I just don’t want this to spiral into a lot of other personal shit.” Why don’t you quit the SEALs and come to the Pentagon? When are you going to settle down? How could you have gotten a woman pregnant, in this day and age? The usual.
Delaney laughed. “I’ll steer the conversation in the right direction.”
Next, he called his grandmother.
“Zach-ar-y Frank Floyd! Why is it I had to hear about this special woman in your life from Daniel?”
“When did you talk to Danny?”
“An hour ago.”
I’ll kill him. Did he have to be on his cell, even on the way to the Wet and Wild?
“Sooooo, are we talking wedding bells here, darling?”
“No, we’re not talking wedding bells. Or engagement rings, if that’s your next question.”
“It’s not too soon to get registered at Neiman’s.”
“You are not registering me anywhere. Do you hear me?”
“When can I meet her?” This was so like his grandmother, she heard only what she wanted to hear.
“I don’t have a clue. At least not for a few weeks, assuming she’s still around by then. She’s in that new WEALS program, and—” Oh, God! Did I just admit there is a woman?
“A military woman! PopPop will be so pleased.” His grandmother was the only person in the world who called the general by that ludicrous name.
“Listen, I have to go.”
“Where’s she from?”
He barely stifled a laugh. Eleventh century Norselands. “Norway.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Some of your ancestors were from Norway, did you know that? The Floydsson family, but they pronounced it Flewed-son.”
That’s it! “Gotta go. Call you later.” He clicked the phone off before his grandmother could blather on...or ask him where Britta was at the moment.
Before he had a chance to put the cordless down, it rang again. His mother.
“Who is she? Is she pretty? I hear she’s tall enough to be a model. Make sure you don’t flub this one up.”
“Flub? What’s a flub?” Is it anything like fuck?
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“So, who did I flub before?”
“Every relationship you’ve ever had was a flub. You’re like a bee buzzing from one flower to another. Be careful or you’ll lose your stinger someday, and then where will you be?”
My stinger is just fine, thank you very much.
“I bought the cutest Muppets underpants for Sammy today. I’ll mail them tomorrow.”
Zach had to smile at that. The kid was already unhappy about superhero briefs...and the wedgies they gave him. What was he gonna think about Miss Piggy riding his too-too?” Too-too had been his mother’s word for penis when he and Danny were kids.
He figured he better return his father’s call, as well. Not wanting to play favorites with the other family members.
“Hiiiii!” a female voice answered, sounding about sixteen years old to his father’s fifty-six.
Actually, Bridget was more like twenty-five.
Women were attracted to his dad because of his wealth and influence in the television industry, but Zach had to admit, his father was also a good-looking man for his age—and very charming. Genetic traits, he liked to think.
“Hi, Bridget. Is my father there?”
She giggled. “He’s...uh, sleeping, ya know.” Giggle, giggle. “I could wake him up, ya know, if it’s really important.”
“That’s all right. Just tell him I called.”
The lights off, he went up the stairs, first checking on Sammy, who was dead to the world.
It had been a long day for him. He leaned down and kissed the brat’s forehead.
He smelled of cotton candy and kid. In so many ways, Zach missed being free, as he had been a few short months ago, but he realized now that he wouldn’t give up his son for all the freedom in the world.
The phone rang again and he rushed out of the room before Sammy awakened, closing the door halfway behind him. He recognized the security company number on the caller ID.
“Elliott Samboro here. Exeter Termite Control,” one of the partners in Vortex said in a gruff voice befitting the former Marine. Elliott Samboro was his code name; his real name was Tony Siliano.
“What’s up?”
“Mr. Floyd, you have a serious roach problem.”
“How serious?”
“I think we should talk about it in person. Better I should show you.”
Uh-oh. Siliano’s words told him, in code, that the line was being bugged. How that happened when they’d done sweeps twice a day was scary. Arsallah’s men were more skilled than he’d imagined. “Okay. Tomorrow?”
“Sure thing. There’ll be two reps there, early.”
Two reps meant that Vortex was upping the security surveillance.
“And, by the way, you should check over anyone entering or leaving your house, till we get the problem corrected. Roaches can attach themselves to clothing or things, like grocery bags or briefcases or stuffed animals.”
Stuffed animals? Oh, shit! Arsallah’s goons followed us to Disneyland.
“Can they be here early...like seven-thirty? I’ve got some other appointments.”
“Yep.”