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“I think we are in need of some distraction, non?” He asked quietly.
“How about that beer?”
Jean-Pierre laughed as he headed into the kitchen. “Follow me. I think after what Merl has just gone through, we could all use a break.”
As Jean-Pierre handed Duncan some beers, he shouted a loud ‘heads up’ and began tossing them to the rest of the team. Each of the men caught a bottle and offered up a whoop of appreciation in response.
“Before you open them, take them onto the deck,” Jean-Pierre called out. “If these floors see even a single drop of beer, Fiona will kick me from the bed and that I will not have, mes frères.”
The men chuckled and headed outside.
Duncan drew near Rachel once more and handed her a beer, but she didn’t take it. She glanced at the bottle and put a hand to her stomach. “I haven’t eaten so this doesn’t exactly appeal right now.”
He narrowed his eyes. “But you always love a good beer, anytime.”
“What I really want is some food.”
“Jean-Pierre’s housekeeper made a tray of sandwiches. He’ll be bringing it out soon.”
“Good, because suddenly I’m starved.” Keeping warriors fed was a big part of the nightly routine and Rachel was one of them now.
“You like your new holsters?”
“Are you kidding? I love them.”
Because the team was on the deck and Jean-Pierre was still in the kitchen, Duncan leaned close and whispered. “And I’m loving the look. Just sayin’.”
Rachel shifted to telepathy. You mean this leather tied around my thighs?
Oh, yeah.
Rachel leaned up and kissed him, a lingering kiss that made him wish they were alone. When she drew back, she planted a hand on his weapons harness, and sent, That’s enough for now. Any more of this and I’ll have to haul you into the woods.
Duncan chuckled and shook his head. “You’re right.” He stepped away from her. Though you might want to leave the holster set behind, at least for now.
I think I’d better because you’re shedding your spicy ale scent like there’s no tomorrow and I’m about ready to crawl all over you.
When she reached between her legs to untie the leather strings, he had to turn his back to her. Of course, he caught sight of Jean-Pierre watching him and grinning all over again. But there was also compassion in the Frenchman’s eyes, so Duncan wasn’t annoyed.
Jean-Pierre knew the drill. Not so long ago, the breh-hedden had slammed down on his head in the shape of the former blood-slave, Fiona.
Once Rachel had settled the holster set back in the box, he led her out onto the deck and handed off the extra beer to Josh.
The moment the large platter of food appeared, the men began to devour and a lot of the tension dissipated. Rachel took a chicken salad sandwich and settled herself at the table. He watched her for a moment, concerned about her stomach troubles. Maybe the stress of battle had been getting to her more than she was willing to admit.
He picked up a roast beef sandwich on a thick bun and began his own devouring act.
A few minutes later, Owen sat down on a bench next to Luken. He dangled a beer between his legs with two fingers, and held a half-eaten sandwich in his free hand. “Maybe it’s time we cut Merl loose.”
Alex, who’d been ribbing Joshua about some event at the Blood and Bite involving two women and the red velvet booths, called out, “What the hell, Owen? The man just learned
his team’s been chained up, probably for as long as he’s been here. We don’t need to cut him loose, we need to cut him some slack.”
Luken, however, didn’t jump on Owen, but asked, “Why did you say that?”
“Has it occurred to anyone else he might be feeding info to Yolanthe to keep his sister safe? Things about the black ops team? About Duncan?”
“Merde,” Jean-Pierre murmured.
