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“My appointment is at eleven, and it’s about a thirty-minute drive from my condo.”
“I’ll pick you up at ten, then.”
She smiled in a way that suggested he might already be in her condo tomorrow morning.
If it made her life easier, he was game. He was magnanimous that way.
She glanced at her watch. “Do you mind if we go upstairs and join the party for a bit?”
He held up his hands. “Totally up to you. I don’t want to get in trouble with Morgan.”
“Right? She’s practically a ninja with her martial arts skills and has won target shooting contests. You really don’t want to mess with her.”
Chris laughed. “Sounds like the woman who was at the center of the Icarus raid.”
“You heard about that?”
“Rand was on the SEAL team that would have been taken out.”
Diana’s eyes widened. “Okay. Now I understand the connection. Rand is up there?” She nodded toward the stairs.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go, then. I want to meet him.”
She carefully slid from the booth, and Chris left a sizable tip on the table to make sure the waiter got his share in case he was left off the party split. Then he carried one of Diana’s crutches as she used the railing with one hand to ascend the stairs one slow step at a time.
When they reached the top, Diana was warmly welcomed by all the people Chris had met earlier and he was introduced around some more. Rand was in conversation with one of the former Green Berets, the white man who was Morgan’s husband, Pax Blanchard, if Chris remembered correctly.
Pax gave Diana a hug, then introduced her to Rand. Chris settled in the back against the wall, content to watch Diana work the room. While most of the people here were coupled off, there were a few men who he suspected were single based on the way their eyes followed Diana in the same way his did.
It was ridiculous to feel a surge of possessiveness knowing he was taking her home tonight. Especially since, as far as he knew, he was merely dropping her off. But still, he felt the pull of her and the need to make it clear she was off the market, even if only for one night.
He reined in the feeling. Even as his brain said there was more to it than a car ride.
He’d seen her in Jordan.
Twice.
She’d asked him to trust her.
Asked?
No. Demanded.
And he did. He wasn’t certain he believed she’d really seen Makram Rafiq, but he knew she believed it, and that was what mattered.
Her eyes met his over the shoulder of some guy who was standing way too close. Her mouth quirked in a smile as she caught his frown.
She left the guy and approached Chris, her movement with the crutches easy and smooth. She was well used to them at this point. “You look like you want to break someone’s face.”
“Do I?” he asked innocently.
“What did that poor man do to earn your ire?”
“You know.”
“Do I?” she repeated back to him.
