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As strong as the drink was, I was surprised it didn’t dissolve the china between itself and freedom. I was working. The glass of iced tea before me was for appearance only. I kept my hands below the level of the bright red and yellow tablecloth and my eyes scanning the lunch crowd. “Noisy neighbors,” I replied blandly, shrugging my shoulders lightly under my jacket. Lukas was my business and mine alone. Anatoly had made that clear. A razor-thin white eyebrow arched skeptically, but he returned to his coffee without comment.
Offended, improbably aquarmarine eyes narrowed at me as she scribbled on a pad, and, pushing out her equally improbable breasts, stalked off on heels high enough to give that stalk a helluva bob and sway for Saul to watch. Watch, he did, too . . on my time and my dime. “You need to get married,” I grumbled. ” “The things I’m thinking about her aren’t legal, even if I were married. There are still a few states lagging behind the times,” he said, putting the leer away as he turned his attention back to me.
It had been the last perfect moment in my life—the last instant I hadn’t been one of the walking wounded. It was the last time I’d been whole. “Slowpoke,” Lukas called over his shoulder as he raced his mare along the shore to leave me in the pro verbial dust. I let him go, not realizing just how true that was. I let Lukas go, never knowing how permanent a surrender it was. Directing my mount deeper into the water, I hissed at the chill that soaked through my jeans. Harry snorted at the sensation, tossed his head, but kept going.