Chapter 3

"WHY DON T YOU JUST TELL THE BIG JERK WHAT YOU do for a living and be done with it?"

Lily looked at her friend Mimi across the restaurant table and smiled ruefully. "That would be the reasonable thing to do, I'm sure. But he makes me so darn mad that reason just flies right out the window whenever I'm anywhere near him."

"Which is exactly why you should let me guide you back to the smart side of the street." Mimi moved aside her leopard-skin handbag to make room for her elbows on the ecru linen tablecloth and leaned forward earnestly. "Show him one of your pay stubs, Lil, and enjoy yourself when he's forced to eat his words. Seeing all those zeros is bound to make him feel like an idiot."

"If I had my way, they'd make him choke ," Lily muttered. Then taken aback by her own savagery, she said, "Okay, maybe not literally." She shook her head in confusion. "Good Grief. Until I met Zach Taylor, I always considered myself to be a live-and-let-live sort of person. But he just makes me so… so darn…"

"Passionate?"

"Furious!" Amid the clink of silverware, the muted conversations, and the classical music purling out of hidden speakers, she sat ramrod straight on her tapestry upholstered chair. "And you know what? I don't owe him any explanations. He's the one who jumped to the idiotic conclusion I'm some sort of larcenous bimbo. Why should I knock myself out providing him proof that I'm not?"

"Because it'd make life easier?" Then Mimi shook her head. "Okay. I recognize that mulish look. For someone usually so mellow, you sure can dig your heels in once you've got your back up."

"I know, it's stupid and no doubt adolescent as well; but that's the way I feel. Maybe after a nice relaxing luncheon with you, my outlook will be more mature."

"Then just let me ask you this and I'll drop it: don't you think there's an elegant sort of irony at work here? I mean, if there's one thing you're particularly good at, it's money management."

"It's what comes from having grown up poor," Lily agreed. "I was probably only eight when I swore I'd find a way to make myself financially secure when I grew up."

"And you've achieved that," Mimi said gently. "You've met every one of your short-term goals and you're well on your way to realizing most of your long-term ones as well."

Lily's spine unbent a little. It was true. The career she'd forged for herself netted her very good money, and the investments she'd made over the years had paid off even more handsomely. So to hades with Zachariah Taylor and his unfounded accusations! Let him stew in his own suspicions. As long as she knew that contrary to his nasty little digs she'd actually been teaching his sister a little financial responsibility, what did it matter what he believed? Her mouth curved up on one side. "So what you're saying is I oughtta lighten up?"

"Listen, sweetie, I know that's easy for me to say when it's not my integrity under attack, but maybe just a little. Or at least try not to take his crap so much to heart. What are you going to do about the sister?"

"Glynnis?"

"Yes.Taylorsounds like a first-class bastard, but to play devil's advocate for a minute, you said yourself he probably has experience on his side when it comes to dealing with his sister's character judgment skills. Her track record in that department sounds less than impressive."

"It is, and I did." Despite her newfound resolve, however, Lily realized she still wasn't in the mood to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Is this going somewhere, Mimi?"

"Not in a straightforward manner, apparently." Her friend laughed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, maybe his wanting to know her whereabouts is more than a control issue. What if he's just genuinely concerned for her welfare? How do you balance that against his hounding you for information?"

"By keeping out of it. Glynnis can be too wide-eyed for her own good sometimes—heck, we got to talking in the first place because she was torn up from discovering the very charming young man currently sweeping her off her feet had his eye firmly on her bank account.

But the fact is, she's of age. If she'd wanted her brother to know her plans, she would have left him a note or called by now, so it's sure as sugar not up to me to fill in the blanks. Plus, I really like David, and I genuinely think he'll be good for her." She took a sip of wine. "If the commando king learns David dared whisk her away, though… Well, I shudder to think what he'll do. Frothing at the mouth would just be the beginning." She looked across the table at her friend. "Boy, I'm starting to think maybe I should've just bought the darn apartment when it went condo. At least then I wouldn't be smack in the middle of this opera."

"No, you'd be thirty grand short of your goal, instead. And for what? Not your dream digs, that's for sure. Your place was a nice enough, but they wanted way too much for a piece of real estate that's not even seven hundred square feet. Hell, I usually equate an asking price like that with something that provides at least a partial view, even if it's one you have to hang out a window to see."

It cheered Lily to hear her decision validated. "You're right. Bless you for reminding me I wasn't particularly attached to it—not enough, at least, to dig into my savings for the down payment and closing costs."

Brilliant sunshine poured through the window. And glancing out at the palm trees rustling their green fronds in the gentle breeze, she let her long-held dream of finally settling in one place to open her own restaurant give her a moment's peace before turning back to the problem at hand. "One thing's for sure," she told her friend. "I'm gonna have to step up my search for somewhere else to live. I was hoping to hold off until I got back from my next gig aboard the Argosy , but the writing's on the wall. Much as I detest letting him get away with driving me off, there's just no living with the guy."

"Now that's not necessarily so." A long skein of artfully streaked butterscotch-colored hair slipped over Mimi's shoulder and she scooped it back behind her. "I'm telling you, sweetie, tell the man the truth. He'll probably be so mortified by how badly he misjudged you that he'll offer you room and board for free." She flashed a cheeky grin. "Then your restaurant kitty will be that much closer to a grand opening."

Lily's laugh was short and skeptical. "I doubt Zach Taylor's spent an embarrassed moment in his life. Besides, I think we're way beyond the kiss-and-make-up stage." A fleeting image of that mouth of his with its thin white scar reminded her libido it still possessed a few red corpuscles capable of generating heat, and she shifted in her seat. "No," she said with extra firmness to make up for it. "My dream will simply have to wait a month or two."

"Well, okay," Mimi said, "but I think you're making a mistake."

Lily gave her a lopsided smile. "Like that would be a first." Then she picked up the menu. "So. Do you know what you're going to have for dessert? I keep hearing great things about the tiramisu here. I have really got to check it out."

Zach opened the front door in response to an authoritative knock and froze in surprise when he saw who stood on the other side. Of all the people he might have expected to land on his porch, John Miglionni wouldn't have even made the top twenty.

But there stood his former Marine buddy all the same, one muscular shoulder propped against the stucco arch, his hands shoved in his slacks pockets as he proffered a lazy smile, teeth startlingly white against his olive-skinned complexion. "Midnight, you ugly son of a bitch," he said easily. "Long time, no see."

"Rocket!" A surge of genuine pleasure shattered Zach's paralysis. Breaking into a huge smile, he stepped forward, and the two men pounded each other on the back in greeting. As they stepped back, Zach's hand whipped out to grasp the other man's sleek black pony-tail and give it a tug. "What's this? I may be ugly, but at least I'm a clean-cut American guy. When did you turn into a pinko radical chick?"

"Screw you, Taylor."

"I don't think so, pal. Some of us still go for the ladies."

They grinned at each other, satisfied to be exchanging insults once again, and for the first time since arriving home, Zach felt like his old self. He waved his friend through the doorway. "Haul your ass in here," he commanded. "God, what's it been, nearly two years? What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"I had a case that ended up inL.A." John followed Zach into the kitchen, where Zach retrieved a couple of beers from the refrigerator. "Once it was wrapped up, I figured I could hardly be this close and not drop by to say hello."

"You got that right, buddy." He passed the other man a beer and they twisted off the caps, snapped their fingers to send the tops zinging toward the sink, then moved to the kitchen table. "Damn. It's good to see you, John." Gesturing to his friend to take a seat, he pulled out a chair for himself. "How've you been—still getting a big charge out of doing the Sam Spade thing?"

"Yeah, I really like it." Rocket lounged back, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his beer bottle cradled against his flat stomach. "Most of the time, anyhow. Can't say I was crazy about it when it prevented me from making Coop's wedding, but I was right in the middle of a couple of cases that paid the overhead, and I couldn't afford to leave them dangling. Sure hated to miss out on the big event, though. I was dying to meet the bride, since I'm having a hard time picturing the woman capable of getting Ice to the altar."

"You'd like Veronica. She looks a lot like Snow White would've if she'd been getting any."

"You mean she wasn't ?" Rocket stared at him as if he'd just been told Santa Claus was dead. "You can't tell me she wasn't messing around with the dwarves, man. Why the hell you think Dopey had that goofy grin?"

"Lack of oxygen at birth, maybe?" Zach laughed. "You gotta admit she was pretty damn good at keeping up the virginal facade. Or maybe it was just the high, trilly voice that had me fooled. As for Veronica, think our girl Snow with hot blood, and that would be her. She's cute, she's fun, and she's talented. And she's just wild about Coop."

"Sweet. Still, the only way she'll ever get the Miglionni stamp of approval is if I meet her for myself." He took a drink of his beer, then smiled. "Which I actually finally get to do. The case I just finished put me between jobs for the first time in over a year and a half, and I'm taking a little vacation to go up to Fogey, Washington, and spend a few days with them."

"Fossil, you moron," Zach corrected automatically. Then he realized what John's vacation meant for his own plans and swore. When Rocket's jet-black eyes leveled on him and his dark eyebrows raised in easygoing inquiry, however, he merely shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "That'll be good for you. It's just not so great for me. I was about to call you about running a cheek on someone."

"Hey, I can run checks any time, anywhere. Have laptop, will travel—I'm never far from my trusty titanium. Who do you want investigated?"

"A woman by the name of Lily Morrisette." He explained the situation.

"And you're absolutely sure she's pulling a con?" Rocket asked when he finished.

"About as sure as I can be without your background check. I gave her a chance to prove otherwise and she put me off." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know, John, maybe this is my fault."

"How do you figure that?"

"Look at this place. I wanted to give Glynnie what she gave up when she came to live with me at Lejeune. But I might as well have taken out an advertisement that read, 'Naive rich girl, left on her own a lot. Come and get it.'"

Rocket shook his head. "I'd tell you to cut yourself some slack here, bud, but I know you when it comes to your sister. So give me everything you know about Morrisette."

Zach provided what he knew, which admittedly wasn't a lot. The only thing he didn't tell John was what a struggle he found it to resist the pull of Lily's sexuality. It wasn't pertinent anyhow. The attraction was strictly involuntary, and he planned to get a grip on it.

But he must be slipping, because when he finished laying everything out Rocket crossed his ankles beneath the table, sank a little deeper onto his tailbone, and stud-ied him intently as he sipped his beer.

And Zach knew he'd somehow given himself away.

For a moment, John didn't say a word. Then he scratched the tip of his thumbnail across his chin. "From what I've seen since hittingL.A., theseCaliforniagirls are something else again. The solution seems like a no-brainer to me."

"Give me a clue then, Miglionni, because I'm not seeing it."

"She's built, she's blond, and she's no better than she oughtta be, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

He shrugged. "So, why not make her an offer she can't refuse? Hell, Zach, she sounds like every girl you've ever pursued. Buy the chick a few baubles. Become her sugar daddy for a while."

Zach snapped upright in his chair. "What are you, crazy ?"

"Crazy like a fox, maybe." Rocket's grin was all teeth. "It's a win-win situation. You've got the funds to keep her happy; sounds to me like she's got the goods to keep you happy; and if she's occupied taking care of your needs, she won't have the time or energy to hustle Baby Sis."

For several heartbeats the urge to take his friend's suggestion and run with it was sweeter than the sing of narcotics through a junkie's veins. The sheer temptation of it caught Zach by surprise.

Then he came to his senses.

"I prefer not to buy my women," he said with a coolly sardonic smile. But he had to take a long pull on his beer to wet his suddenly dry throat.

"Ah, well, if you're gonna be fussy about it." Rocket shrugged. "Now, me, I'll take the little darlins any way I can get 'em. Just as long as the end result is me getting my hands on them."

Zach laughed. "You're so full of shit, John." Raising his beer bottle to his lips, he studied his friend over the top of the amber glass for a moment. "Though, come to think of it, you never were all that discriminating, were you? Still chasing skirts as fast as you can?"

"Nah. I've slowed down some. Hell, I don't even brag about my conquests anymore."

"Get outta here. The guy who used to regale Coop and me in pornographic detail of whatever girl had ridden the rocket the night before—now keeping it all to himself? Son of a bitch, boy."

"I know; the world as we once knew it has ceased to exist. This growing up is a spooky business." He killed off his brew and set the bottle on the table. "Speaking of growing up, when you plan on giving up field work?"

"Goddamn never." Because it hit a nerve too close to the surface, his voice was flatter than he might have wished.

But John didn't seem to mind; he merely hitched one shoulder in an easy shrug. "The twenty-year-olds haven't managed to run you into the ground yet, then?"

"They try, but I'm hanging tough." Although maybe not bouncing back as fast as he used to. "Jesus, Rocket, were we ever that young? Or that stupid? I just got back from a detail inSouth Americawhere I had to ride herd on a bunch of horny teenagers bent on chasing the local senoritas. We damn near had ourselves an international incident by the time we pulled out."

"One of your men compromise a local girl?"

" 'Ruined' her is how her betrothed put it." He shook his head in disgust. "We went down to extract a hostage from a drug cartel, then stayed to defend the local village against retaliation. It was supposed to be quick and professional. We were to get the hostage out, set up defensible parameters around the village and show the villagers the basics of maintaining them, then select a few of their young men to bring back to Pendleton."

"To train in the rudiments of warfare?"

"Yeah; you know how it works."

"Sure." John shrugged again. "Teach 'em everything you can cram into six weeks, then send them back to educate the rest of the village and hope for the best. So, was it actually your man getting his rocks off that nearly caused the incident, or was this just one of those ops that are fucked from start to finish?"

"No, the recon and extraction went great. My unit is young, but they're good. The problems didn't start until we got to the village. That's when they turned from a corps of highly trained professionals into a bunch of pussy-chasing morons."

"And this is something new? Hell,Midnight, there's always shit like that to rein in whenever young soldiers are exposed to nubile sweet young things. Or to any female with a pulse when it comes to that—particularly following a successful mission."

"I know, but this time one of my men diddling with a local girl damn near meant the difference between a village getting the training to defend itself and not. And I sure as hell wouldn't have enjoyed having to explain why to the brass."

"What happened?"

Zach noticed John's empty beer bottle and got up to get two more longnecks out of the fridge. "The best candidate for the program by far," he said, "was a young man named Miguel Escavez. He had the most raw talent, the greatest determination to protect what's his, and unquestionable leadership potential." Handing Rocket a beer, he sat back down, then stopped in the midst of twisting the cap off his own to look at his friend across the table. "Unfortunately, he was also the girl's fiance."

"Oh, shit."

"Tell me about it. After talking to the girl and determining the sex with Pederson was consensual, I got the happy job of telling Miguel that since that was so, and she was of age, I didn't have jurisdiction to punish my soldier-cum-stud of the hour." Zach got a sudden flashback to swarming flies and thick, steamy heat, saw again the outraged ego burning in the young Latino's eyes.

He finished twisting the bottle cap off and took a swig of beer to wash the vision away. "A couple days later we found Pederson outside the village, beaten to a pulp. I know damn well Escavez was responsible, but lacking concrete proof, there wasn't a helluva lot I could do about that, either." His jaw set. "Which pretty much summed up the entire detail. I didn't do a helluva lot."

John shrugged. "Some missions are like that—there's just not much you can do. And it's probably just as well you didn't find evidence against Escavez anyway."

"How do you figure?"

"We've both spent more hours than we can count in these villages. If there's one thing you can depend on in some of the more macho cultures, it's the store they place in saving face. Is Pederson okay?"

"Yeah. He's still not one hundred percent, but you know how fast a nineteen-year-old heals."

"There you go, then. Your soldier survived and might even think twice before he messes with another villager's woman. Escavez got his retribution, which probably helped him save face in front of his village."

"True." Zach felt some of the weight he'd been carrying slide away. "And in the end Miguel even volunteered to be part of the three-man delegation we brought back with us." He saluted Rocket with his beer bottle. "So all's well that ends well, I guess."

He heard the sound of the front door opening. Knowing it had to be Lily, he looked toward the archway, waiting for her to pass by. It bugged him to realize his blood was pumping a little hotter and faster through his veins than it had been a few moments ago. Then, recalling his friend's words, he took a slow, controlled breath and gave himself a break.

Rocket was right. Lily was the exact type of woman that usually drew his attention—at least in the physical sense. I'll be damned , he thought with a little surge of relief. I'm not turning into the world's worst brother, after all. I merely need to get laid .

He almost laughed out loud. As John had said, successful reconnaissance missions had a way of getting a guy's juices flowing. Combine that with the fact that it had been a long time since he'd been within belly-rubbing distance of a woman—even before the South American detail had come un—and any woman would look good to him, never mind a hot little number like Lily Morrisette. Just give him the chance to rectify the sexual limbo he'd been in, though, and she'd likely lose whatever small hold she had over his senses.

He kept that thought firmly in mind when Lily sashayed into view, all cotton-candy hair and swinging hips as she strutted toward the archway. Still his temperature cranked another notch higher. Then, just as he was thinking he'd better start trolling the bars pretty damn soon, Lily glanced up from the tiny handbag into which she dropped her keys.

With a little yelp of surprise she stopped in her tracks, a splayed hand slapping the full swell of her breasts. A half dozen narrow gold bangles clinked and jingled as they slid down her arm from wrist to forearm. Her eyes locked with Zach's.

"You startled me!" she exclaimed breathlessly, and more jingling ensued as her hand patted her chest as if to contain a racing heart. "I didn't realize anyone was here." Then she jerked her gaze away and glanced at Rocket, offering him a tentative smile.

It pushed all Zach"s buttons, and he laughed harshly. "Right," he snarled. "Like you can't smell fresh meat a block away." Jesus, what an actress He jerked his head toward Rocket. "So meet John. He can't afford you."

You would have thought he'd pissed in the middle of a tea party, the way she looked at him. Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away.

His blood flat-out boiled. How did she do it? How did she make him feel as if he was in the wrong when he knew damn good and well that she was the one playing all the angles?

"So that's Lily, huh?"

Zach blew out a breath and turned to look at his friend. "Yeah."

" Hoo –ahh," Rocket breathed. "Now that's lethal stuff." He reached over to punch Zach on the arm. "But my money's on you, buddy. You'll have her disarmed in no time." He cocked a dense black eyebrow. "That is, if you start thinking with something besides your dick. What's the matter with you, anyway? I've never seen you like this, never heard you be anything but polite to a woman, no matter what her agenda. You gotta quit letting this one mess with your head."

Then he bared his teeth. "Lucky for you, you've got me at your back. You've established you're the bad guy. Now it's time for ol' brother John to see what he can learn."

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