Chapter 5
That glimpse of vulnerability in his nemesis might as well never have happened by the time they started the first leg of their road trip to California.
Specifically, San Diego. Having set up a comms protocol via Ghost, Rhys had been able to verify that the message he’d received from someone calling himself Wolf was legit.
He’d then surmised the name was a nickname, and that the man to whom it belonged—given the location—was a Navy SEAL, either former or serving.
And, having been informed of their destination, Rhys had then had just enough time to plan their itinerary, including reserving accommodation en route.
He’d also had the task of informing Taylor that she’d better pack for a warm climate.
She’d been less than happy when he’d refused to tell her any more than.
He didn’t want her spilling the beans to Charity, either deliberately or accidentally, before they departed.
He was still debating the matter of confiscating her cell phone before enlightening her.
They’d been on the road for approximately thirty minutes of stone-cold silence when Rhys decided to take his life in his hands and break the ice with his principal.
His principal. Even his wildest nightmares couldn’t have prepared him for this crazy turn of events, but being the consummate professional, he’d roll with it. Being at each other’s throats from the get-go didn’t mean Taylor deserved anything less than his best.
The thing was, she deserved so much more than the hand she’d been dealt.
Over the last couple of days, the situation had made Rhys face a certain truth—he hadn’t wanted to feel this insane attraction toward Taylor, so he’d fought it.
A serious relationship hadn’t been on his agenda when he’d moved stateside, yet when he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d recognized the threat to his plans to keep his social life casual and most definitely unserious.
That had governed his attitude toward her until he’d found out there was a strong possibility she could be under threat of serious harm.
His protective instincts had instantly swung into action, and now, whatever lascivious thoughts might gallop through his mind, he owed it to her to keep them to himself.
Since Nick had vetoed any trips into town for Taylor—relieving Rhys of the distraction of accompanying her—she’d tried to persuade him to take a detour shortly after they’d left the ranch.
He’d refused, of course, which hadn’t done him any favors—if looks could kill, he’d now be six feet under, pushing up the cacti.
Her current demeanor left him in no doubt she was still carrying the spade and was ready to dig that hole at the slightest provocation.
Their journey—in fact, the venture as a whole—was going to be… interesting.
Rhys cast a glance to his right, just in time to catch the stony glare gravitating in his direction. For a split second, he felt as if he’d been punched in the gut.
“Everything okay, fy nghariad?”
Her scowl deepened so fiercely, Rhys could have sworn he was on the business end of a thermal lance. “That’s the third time you’ve called me that. What does it mean?”
“I told you?—”
“I know, I know. If you tell me, you’ll have to kill me.” She drew in a deep breath. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?”
If only she knew. Maybe he should tell her.
“My sisters—Lowri in particular, and she’s done it frequently for years.” He chuckled at the cluster of memories. She was so like their mother, it was uncanny.
“Years? Really? Beats me how you’re still alive, if you annoy her even half as much as you annoy me.”
This time, his chuckle turned into something close to a full-on belly laugh. “There are times when it’s close. Then again, I believe in equal opportunities, so I make sure I annoy all of them.”
“Are? Not were? You’re still annoying them now? How very adult of you. Your sisters have my sympathy. Are you planning to grow up any time soon?”
The disapproval in her scathing tone was strong. It was also a good sign of an obstinate will that could come in handy. “Someone once told me growing old is mandatory—growing up is optional. So, unless it becomes mandatory, I plan to avoid it for as long as I can.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“And you’re supposed to be my bodyguard?”
At that, every last shred of humor fled his body. “You’d better believe it. I don’t joke about my work. You’d also better believe it means you do what I tell you, when I tell you, remember?”
His response was perhaps a little abrupt; Taylor certainly seemed to think so, given the stubborn jut of her chin, the way her lips were pressed together, and the explosive energy she put into the act of folding her arms. To drive the message home, Rhys was prepared to go nuclear on her delectable ass. “I mean it.”
Taylor threw her hands up. “Whatever.”
For a split second, Rhys entertained the idea of pulling over and putting Taylor over his knee so he could blister her butt…
but only for a split second. He wasn’t into the whole spanking thing, unlike some of his former colleagues back in the UK.
Besides, if he were to give into the whim, the next couple of weeks would be unbearable. He wondered if charm might work on her.
“Taylor, my priority is keeping you safe. So, how about we call a truce?”
At first, the question ran headlong into a wall of stubborn silence, but then Rhys sensed a less belligerent vibe coming from that side of the pickup.
“That makes sense,” Taylor conceded. “After all, we don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck with each other, and I’m not sure I have the energy to fight with you constantly for the duration.”
The unexpected hint of weariness in her reply provoked a sudden urge to comfort her with a hug.
“Pax, then?” he ventured. “If it helps, we can always agree this is temporary and resume hostilities once you’re out of danger?”
Although it was his idea, he found himself hoping she wouldn’t take him up on it.
Her gaze remained fixed on the green countryside beyond the highway. For a moment he wondered if she hadn’t heard him, but then, with a swift glance, he caught her chewing her lower lip—a sure sign she was mired in some sort of internal debate.
Rhys turned his full attention back to the road ahead. Seconds later, he heard a heavy sigh and braced himself for whatever she was preparing to say.
>>><<<
So, Rhys Dalton was human, after all, and not exclusively the irritating asshole she’d always found him to be.
The trouble was, seeing him that way had been a very effective defense against how damn attractive he was.
That defense was now crumbling. Now she was seeing more of the human side of him, the risk of succumbing to the same spell that had bewitched Charity had increased—except for Taylor, the danger was Welsh, not English.
And that danger had just made a peace offering. She was so tired of all the drama that was going on in her life. Tired and scared, and even a tad guilty for not following her father’s instructions to the letter. It would be a relief not to feel on edge for a while.
“Okay—pax. A temporary truce. I agree.”
While those words lifted a weight from her shoulders, the greater surprise was the proposition her treacherous mouth then decided unilaterally to unleash on the world. “We could always, you know, extend the truce for a while after this is over. Just sayin’.”
The seconds of silence that followed were more than a little unnerving.
“We could give it a try, see how it goes. What do you think?”
Taylor’s eyes almost rolled. “I think, since I suggested it, it’s a good idea. You can thank me later.”
And there it was—the elusive, eye-catching dimple in his cheek. She didn’t get to see it very often, and it had pretty much always appeared when he was talking to someone else. She felt rather smug to have finally joined their ranks.
“Whatever you say, ma’am.”
And that was that. Taylor returned to watching the countryside pass by, but there was one more observation she felt compelled to make. “I may not be a Texas native, but I’ve been here long enough to know your accent needs some work.”
Rhys grunted. It could have been a laugh of sorts; Taylor wasn’t sure.
“Maybe you could give me a few lessons.”
Taylor swallowed hard. Was he serious? He had to be, because if he wasn’t, the only other option was that he was flirting with her, and that was impossible.
His expression betrayed nothing.
He was looking straight ahead, his profile now a dark and dangerous dimple-free zone. The man seemed to have permanent five o’clock shadow. The look had never appealed to Taylor, but her bodyguard wore it well.
She called his bluff. “Okay. Once this is all over, we’ll get together and work on it.”
Silence was not the response she’d anticipated. Had she caught him unaware with her offer?
It appeared not.
“Great idea. So, what made you want to sound like a Texan?”
“Self-preservation. I wanted to blend in.”
“Because of the circumstances that put you in this situation?”
The short answer was yes. The longer answer was that her father’s manner, possibly even more than his words, had left her terrified of standing out wherever she went.
Fortunately, a yawn put an end to her dilemma about how best to answer the question. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep too well last night. Probably because of not knowing where we’re going. Are you going to tell me now? Properly, I mean. ‘Somewhere warm’ tells me nothing.”
He kept her dangling for a couple of very long, tantalizing seconds, then responded in an entirely infuriating maddening way. “Not yet. Why don’t you take a nap? We’ll be on the road for a while yet. I can always wake you when we stop.”
She was tempted. She was also genuinely tired, and the premium pickup’s seats were so soft and luxurious. Taylor relaxed into a more comfortable position. “Thanks,” she murmured.
“Don’t mention it. Now shut up and go to sleep.”