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He was thinking that learning invulnerability was what his grandfather had tried to hammer home, but if his uncle Colton had lived, he believed that he would have gone against his own father’s teaching and told his nephew that he was confusing invulnerability with strength. That what invulnerability did, had done, was make Buck an island where no one else could come aground. All that got him was inaccessibility.
And if he was an island, isolated, resolute, alone, there was really no room for partnership. Which brought him back around to Mari and to the trust she’d placed in him, an invisible, precious gift that was so goddamned fragile.
He was caught between truth and deception, mandated, professional, classified, but still deception in his eyes. He was falling for this woman in a profound way, and without trust between them, there could be no future. And he wanted that future that spiraled out from this tense, dangerous, unknown present.
He lived for adversity, combat, violence of action. He and his teammates were the gatekeepers, the force to be reckoned with if anyone stepped out of line when it came to the United States and all he held dear. They ruthlessly used that formidable reputation to police the impossible and win every single time because that’s really who they were at their core. Serve, protect the innocent, eliminate enemies, bring peace to chaos, stand up for what was right and true.
Releasing a heavy sigh, he gazed at her, his expression tight. Even in the faint light from outside, he could see the shadows under her eyes and wondered what kinds of things she was wrestling with. It was pretty obvious to him that they had shaken each other up. A small, wry smile appeared. He was shaken, the foundations of his life shifting on the unstable sand of his beliefs.
He lightly brushed his thumb along the hollow of her cheekbone, then tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. Remembering every sensation he’d felt since he’d met her, Buck tipped his head back and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to draw her against him. He waited for the thick, heavy surge to ease a little. His truth was that he wouldn’t compromise her trust any more than he had to, which meant he was going to be with her without sex being involved. He would face his truth on his own terms, and when this was all said and done, he would be able to look at himself in the mirror and embody integrity…something cowboys and SEALs had in common.
He took a deep, steadying breath and glanced at his dive watch. Four-thirty. The guys would be rousing for PT. It was either that or find another few thousand bags of coffee beans to stack.
12
Kat wearily rubbed at her eyes. Between this mission and that hammock, she was as sleep-deprived as a new mother. She popped another antacid to combat the nausea that seemed to have dogged her since she’d gotten to Costa Rica. When she came into the ready room, the overpowering smell of eggs made her gag. She walked briskly to the window and opened it, breathing in the heavy humid air. This country was getting to her in some way. She’d never been averse to eggs before.
“Could we eat breakfast up at the house on the patio and not in here?” she said to the people who were working. The egg offender quickly consumed the rest of his egg sandwich with a sheepish nod.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
She sat down at the table. “Any word from the FBI Legal Attaché?”
“Nada, so far,” an analyst said, looking up from her screen.
As soon as Buck, D-Day, and Maritza Navarro had found the partially decomposed body of a man at the base of a hillside not far from their newly planted coffee plants, Kat had been on the phone to the US State Department’s Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs. Her next call had been to the legal attaché at the Panamanian Embassy, the head of the nearest FBI International Office to urgently request the FBI’s Evidence Response Team. If Kat was a betting woman, the man they found on Navarro property was tied in with drug trafficking since half of all homicides in the country were linked with the illegal narcotics trade.
And something was rotten and rotting on the Good Earth Plantation. She wanted to make sure whoever was responsible was brought to justice, and if they discovered that the Navarro family was complicit in any way, their assets would be seized, their plantation sold off, and guilty individuals would go to prison. Kat was bringing in the big guns.
ERT was extremely skilled and professional, trained to be the best in the world. The world. Kat wanted those people on this case, and with the fate of Nacho, The Good Earth Plantation, and the Navarros’ on the line she wanted to get it right.
She popped another antacid and rubbed her temple. “Are you growing yourself an ulcer?” Joker asked as he came to the table and pulled out a chair. Thankfully, all he had for food was a cup of coffee, and that didn’t bother her at all.
“It would seem so. I’ll go see a doctor when I get home.”
“Right, Kat. After this mission.”
“Why do you sound so skeptical?”
“They pulled you out of administration and back into the field because you’re so damn good at what you do, but maybe enough is enough.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You are so tenacious…like a SEAL. That’s why you and Wicked are still together, still married. You get us because you’re one of us through and through.”
She grinned. “A SEAL babe?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, in the truest sense of the meaning.”
He shifted in his seat, wincing a little. She frowned. “You still in pain?”
“Not anything I can’t handle. It will go away eventually.”
“Yeah, thanks for that rundown, pot calling the kettle black.”
He took a breath and leaned forward. “It’s a fact that they’re going to rotate me out of combat. I can’t change that if I want to proceed in my career.”
“And you want to?”
