Page 12 of Taylor’s Warrior

Fortified with a shot of caffeine, Taylor took a seat on her sectional. At her invitation, Rhys wisely opted for the armchair. And much though she wanted to argue against the plan Nick had set out, now that she’d given it some thought while making her drink on autopilot, she had to run with it. She just wished she could do the running with someone else.

“For what it’s worth,” Rhys began, “I’m sorry you have to go into this situation with someone you can’t abide. We don’t need to be friends for this to work, but you have to understand, it’s my area of expertise and I know what I’m doing. You need protection, and while I’m damn good at providing it, I’m going to need your cooperation. If I tell you to do something, it’s purely aimed at ensuring your safety. We can argue about it later.”

When he put it like that, it made her tantrum seem petty and childish. She’d asked for help, and like it or not, this was it. It was time to be an adult and face both the truth and the possible consequences if it all went wrong. “You’ll have my cooperation on one condition.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. He didn’t look too happy, but at least he didn’t yell at her. “And what might that be?”

“You promise to bring me back home… back here… one way or another.”

His expression underwent a subtle, serious change—he understood exactly what she was asking for. “You have my word, Taylor. I’ll bring you home. I promise.”

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.”