Chapter 4 #2
Taylor raised her head, her forehead creased in yet another frown as she cast a withering glance in his direction before switching her attention back to Nick. “Hold on a minute. You said something about him being operational as of ten-ten. What’s this got to do with him?”
Nick cleared his throat. Unless Rhys missed his guess, his boss looked distinctly uncomfortable. Rhys had a feeling neither he nor Taylor was going to like what Nick was about to say.
“Tay, I don’t know where you’re going, but wherever it is, you’re not going there alone. Ghost’s contact?—”
Taylor showed no mercy. “Oh no. You’re not doing that to me, Nick.” She aimed her eviscerating glare directly at Rhys. “No way!”
It looked as if Taylor had drawn the same conclusion as he had. Rhys couldn’t say he was ecstatic about it, but orders were orders.
“Taylor, if there were any other option, I promise you, I would have taken it,” Nick assured her calmly. “Rhys is the only operative I have available right now, and as I said, you can’t go to destination unknown alone. I promise, we’ll bring you home just as soon as we know it’s safe to do so.”
Tight-lipped as she was, Rhys could guess what was going through her mind. She was fuming. He, on the other hand, was too disciplined to show anything other than acceptance of his next job, no matter how he might feel about his principal. “How will you know when it’s safe?” he asked.
“Alongside your close protection assignment, we’re running an investigation. When we find the answers we need, we’ll know,” Nick replied.
“And you expect that to take ten to fourteen days?” Rhys hoped it would be no longer than that. Taylor’s situation might well have triggered his protective instincts, but more than two weeks exclusively in her company was, in his opinion, a cruel and unusual punishment.
That was the polite version. Had he been among his brothers in the SAS, his reaction would have been a lot more… colorful.
“Initially ten to fourteen days. Since we already have work going on in the background, I hope it’ll be less than that, but I can’t promise anything.
What I can promise is that it won’t be for a moment longer than absolutely necessary,” Nick stated.
“I want both of you back home as soon as possible.”
“You said you don’t know where we’re going,” Taylor reminded him quietly. “Why not?”
Nick looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Ghost and I talked it over, and we agreed it’s best if Ghost’s contact liaises directly with Rhys to make the arrangements.”
“Who is this contact?” Rhys asked. With each moment that passed, he was feeling less and less in control of the situation.
Nick’s expression reflected even more discomfort. “All I can tell you is that he’s a friend of Ghost’s. I know you would prefer to know all the details—we all would—but we’re doing it this way to protect everyone concerned. It’s better if we don’t know exactly where you are.”
“That’s debatable,” Charity grumbled. “I just want you to know, I hate this plan.”
“I can’t say I’m particularly fond of it,” her husband agreed, “but it’s the least bad option, and it has its merits.”
Rhys cleared his throat. “When can I expect to hear from this contact?”
“Within twenty-four hours,” Nick replied. “So, I suggest you both get packing for a couple of weeks away, because you may be traveling at very short notice.”
During his time in the SAS, Rhys had often had to travel with no notice at all, so it was nothing new for him. Taylor, on the other hand, gave the resigned sigh of someone faced with an impossible situation.
“Okay—any questions?” Nick asked.
“Yes.” Taylor raised her head, and in her expression, Rhys caught a glimpse of the fight and the fire she still had in her. “I don’t want to go. This is my home.”
“Strictly speaking, that’s an objection, not a question.” Nick’s voice was gentle and patient. “I understand how you feel, Tay, but it really is safer for you to be out of the area. You have my word we’ll bring you home just as soon as it’s safe to do so.”
“All right, then—I do have a question. How are we getting to wherever we’re going? Plane reservations on short notice could cost a fortune.” Taylor folded her arms.
“You’re not flying,” Nick responded. “Reservations would put your names on reservation systems, and they can be hacked. That’s why we’re relocating you by road.”
The implications of traveling that way smacked Rhys around the back of the head like a piece of two-by-four. Potentially, it could mean hours with only Taylor Markham for company. Days, if they were going out of state. The prospect was not appealing, for a multitude of reasons.
And judging by Taylor’s expression, she was equally appalled. Although admittedly, her pout was kind of cute.
She held up a hand. “Wait. Hold it right there. You’re saying I’m going to be on the road for an as-yet undefined amount of time, traveling who knows where, and then staying there for two whole weeks—with him?”
Rhys quelled the urge to comment, mostly because of the warning glance Nick fired in his direction.
“Yes, Taylor,” Nick confirmed. “That’s about the size of it.”
She gave a disgruntled snort. “And there’s no room for negotiation?”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “None whatsoever.”
“I see.” She glared at Nick, then at Rhys, and finally back at Nick. “In that case, for the record, I am not happy about this, Nicholas Blackmore. Not. Happy. At. All.”
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“Look, if it makes it any easier for you, I don’t like this any more than you do.”
Even his voice annoyed her. After the meeting with Nick, Taylor had driven down to the creek—her favorite place on the whole property—in an effort to find some peace and solitude, and calm down.
A couple of hours there had gone a long way toward improving her frame of mind, only for her blood pressure to skyrocket again when the source of her stress had waylaid her on her way back to her cabin when she returned.
“What makes you think I don’t like it?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“Oh, let me think. The way you looked daggers at me when Nick announced I was going with you? The way you stomped out of the meeting and drove off before anyone could say anything to you, never mind stop you? Where the hell did you go, anyway?”
Anger boiled up inside her. “Who the hell do you think you are? It’s none of your business.”
“Wrong, fy nghariad. Everything about you is my business as of ten-ten this morning.”