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Nodding, he said, “Fair enough. But we’ll buy you the best damn dinner in this town. Argentine T-bone with all the trimmings.” He rubbed his flat, hard belly. “I’m salivating already for it.”
She smiled softly. “Steak sounds really good. I could use some serious protein.”
“Over the next seven days, me and my men will be tanking up on all the protein we can stuff into our bellies. You should too. When we return, we’re going to be balls to the wall.”
“Well,” she said drily, “maybe three sets of balls and a pair of ovaries?”
He chuckled as the elevator door slid open into a hallway. “Yeah, something like that. Turn left. Your room is two doors down.”
The hollow thunk of her combat boots on the teak floor shining with polish made Sierra wince. They sounded so loud that she tried to lighten her step. She pushed her card into the slot and the green light came on. Mace brushed by her. “Where will you be?” she asked.
“Right next door to you,” he said. “Nate and Cale are back across the other side of the elevator, same side of the hall.”
She opened the door and hesitated. “Who can I call if I have questions? Or get hungry before 1800 tonight?”
Mace turned. “Me. If you get an itch in your feet to go play tourist, just knock on my door, or dial my room number.”
She gave him a worried look. “But wouldn’t you rather sleep after that hot bath and beer?”
“Yes,” he said patiently, opening his own door and pushing it wide, “but I also don’t want you wandering around by yourself in this town, either. There’re safe places and some that aren’t. And it’s not smart for a lone woman to be walking around unescorted.”
She snorted. “Great. Patriarchy strikes again.”
“Look at it this way, Sierra. I can’t afford to have you deck some amorous dude who thinks he’s going to hit on you in one of these plazas. I do NOT want to have to find myself down at the policia station. Got it?”
She heard the grim warning in his growly voice. “Yeah. I got it,” she replied just as grumpily. “I hate patriarchal chauvinism.”
Sierra felt gladshe’d set the alarm on the bedside clock of her hotel room as she stepped out from under the hot shower. Finally getting the chance to wash her hair felt like heaven. The knock at her door at exactly 1800 sent her heart racing a little. Smoothing down her clean, dry jeans and making sure her pink tank top with cap sleeves set perfectly, she opened the door. Three pair of eyes gawked at her. She smiled a little nervously. “Wow, you dudes clean up pretty darned well.”
Nate cleared his throat. “Might say the same of you. You give new meaning to that pair of jeans you’re wearing.”
Giving Mace a nervous look because his eyes had instantly narrowed on her, never leaving her chest, her breasts, she supposed, made her really nervous. “I… uh, hold on a minute. I’ll grab my purse.”
“You got a jacket?” Mace spoke up.
Turning, she nodded.Jacket. Okay.
“It gets cold up here at nearly twelve thousand feet at night,” Cale called after her.
“Yeah, if you got a sweater,” Nate added, “better wear it, too.”
Great. She wasn’t at all prepared for Cusco. Digging through the few civilian clothes she had folded in the dresser, she called back over her shoulder, “I don’t have much…”
It seemed at first all she had was that one heavy, denim western-style jacket that she loved. Until, under it, she discovered an equally-denim vest that had three silver conches embedded with turquoise centers and pulled that on first. Hurrying, shrugging on the jacket, she grabbed the strap of her black leather purse and headed out to where the three men stood casually in the hall.
Closing the door, she turned.
“Man, you look beautiful with your hair down,” Cale whistled. He grinned.
Oh, no, she was going to blush. Again. She saw Nate bob his head in agreement. Only Mace, that silent mountain of a man, said nothing. But damn, Sierra sure as hell felt his minute inspection of her. She nervously touched her long black hair, the tips of it curling in just above her breasts. “It’s clean. And it’s so nice that it’s laying down and not all frizzed up.”
Mace moved forward, tucking his large hand against the small of her back. “You sure as hell don’t look like a Marine Corps sniper, that’s for sure. Come on, we’re going to buy you the best Argentine steak Cusco has to offer.”
His hand felt warm against her skin beneath the denim jacket that hung down just below her hips. Guiding. Without being controlling. Sierra relaxed as Mace walked her down the hall to the white marble stairs.
“We’re going to La Retama,” Nate told her from behind. “The Broom. Best steaks in Peru. You’ll like it.”
“Have you ever been in Peru?” Cale wondered.
