SEALs of Summer 2: A Military Romance Superbundle (59 page)

Grann threw her head back and blew a breath toward the rusted metal roof. “Been fighting evil as long as I can remember. Not going to let it break me now.”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Deolina leaned into Grann and tossed a command over her shoulder to the drummer, “Crank it up, bongo-boy. My sista and I got us some evil ass-kickin’ to do.”

For the first time that evening, Grann smiled.

They hiked up their dresses, rolled their shoulders, and called the winds. Again.

‡

A
s long as
he lived, he’d never forget how fragile Ysabeau looked huddled under her beach towel. His heart burned for her. What he wouldn’t give for a few minutes alone with that guy who hurt her. The guy really would
not exist
.

But as she folded the towel and placed it at the foot of their beach blanket, he realized how brave and strong she was. She’d survived a terrifying ordeal. And she wasn’t bitter. She’d turned a fight-for-her-life experience into a strong will for all life by devoting herself to healing others. She’d even saved his life. Hell, what a gift she was. What a beautiful, sweet, gift. He put his hand on hers and she gave him a tentative smile.

With that smile, his jumbled emotions focused to blindingly clear, intense feelings. He wanted to hold Ysabeau and tell her everything was going to be all right. To love her and shelter her from her past and destroy any man who could hurt her. But wasn’t
he
one of those men? Killing the clinic was going to hurt her, badly. How could he protect her from himself?

“I need to get back to the clinic,” she said.

“How about we go out to dinner tonight? A date.”

She cast him an incredulous look. “After everything I told you?”

He grinned. “I don’t give up easily. So? It’s a date?”

A look that resembled relief relaxed the tightness around her mouth. “It’s a date.”

After she dropped him off, he wandered around the house, marveling at the glorious trouble he’d gotten himself into. What was he going to do it?

The doorbell rang and he ran to get it before he realized that Ysabeau had a key and wouldn’t be ringing the bell. Sonofabitch, Tico stood in the doorway.

“Oh, you’re still here.” Tico’s face spoke volumes of disappointment.

Luke returned the look. “So are you. What do you want?”

“The doc. But you’ll do. I’ve got some of your stuff in the van.”

He followed Tico outside.

“Here, chief.” Tico slammed the suitcase against his chest. “I’ve been told it’s all there. But I got no way of telling. Don’t take no missing underwear out on me.”

“Where’s the rest?” Luke snarled. “Like my computer?”

Tico shifted his feet, looked at the ground. “The computer’s taking a while to round up.”

“What about my wallet?”

“Oh, I forgot. Here.” Tico pulled Luke’s wallet out of his back pocket.

“What a surprise. It’s empty.”

“No man, it’s not. Look again.” Tico’s head bobbed as if it was connected to his shoulders by a slinky.

Luke’s breath caught. His SEAL Trident pin was still jammed into the leather and in the side pocket was his favorite picture of Sunny. He hadn’t lost it forever.

“She’s pretty,” Tico said.

Luke cast him a sideways glance to see if he was joking. If he was making fun of his daughter, he’d rip Tico’s tonsils out with his bare hands. The kid’s expression was completely sincere.

Luke exhaled. “Yes, she is.”

“Are we good, now?”

“Good would be having my computer, including its leather case, my credit cards and the two hundred and fifty dollars in cash that used to be in my wallet.”

“Damn. That much cash?”

“I’ll trade the money for information.”

Tico tugged on one of his long dreadlocks. “What kind of information?”

Leaning in, so close he could smell fried plantains on Tico’s breath, he said, “What happened to the guy who attacked Ysabeau?”

“No you didn’t!” Tico shoved him, knocking the suitcase out of his hand. “You brought up that dude? To Doctor M.?”

Luke stumbled. When he caught his footing, he whirled on Tico and shoved him with a loud crunch—skinny asshole against hippy metal. “What in the hell’s the matter with you! I didn’t bring up anything. I had no idea about him.”

“Easy, chief. I forgot you weren’t here then. Just don’t mention it again, okay? The doc’s kind of touchy about that guy.”

Luke backed up and worked to get his anger under control. “What happened to him?”

Turning his hands palms up to the blue sky, Tico said calmly, “He’s dead.”

“Dead-dead?”

“What other kind is there?” His eyebrows knit together.

“I heard something about black magic. He’d better be worm food, not an undead roaming the streets, like your coma-cousin.”

“Dude! Do you want someone to hear you?” Tico hissed. His eyes shifted from side to side. “No one jokes about black magic. Zombies? Man, they creep me out.”

Luke scowled. “You’re sure he’s dead?”

“AIDS, chief, final stages. Whatcha think? Those guys die. Mostly, anyway.” He put his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “In his case, though, I think the end was one hellabaloo ride.”

He glared until Tico retracted his hand. “Hellabaloo?”

“I wasn’t there, but the rumor is…” Tico leaned closer. “Deolina, who wasn’t retired yet, and the Great Priestess of Light joined forces to perform the mother of all Voodoo ceremonies. They were ticked off at the guy for what he did to Ysabeau. Seriously ticked. I still remember the storm that ripped through the city for days afterward. The winds tore off a chunk of my cousin Rocko’s roof and it wasn’t even hurricane season!

“In the end, the only thing left of that bad AIDS dude was one shoe found in an alley seventeen miles away. That was it. I tell you, no one messes with those two Voduns. No one. Especially when it comes to hurting Ysabeau.” He nodded. “Don’t bring him up the dude to the doc again, okay?”

“I didn’t bring him up.” He tugged on his shirt sticking to his skin. “I’m going inside for a beer.”

“Righteous.”

Luke looked over his shoulder to see Tico’s long dreads bobbing close behind. “Alone.”

*

Ysabeau came home
that evening to find Luke sitting at the table reading the newspaper, or rather looking at the pictures. She made a mental note to buy him a newspaper in English and ignored the crazy fast beat of her heart.

“Hi honey, you’re home.” He rose and kissed her on the cheek. Her heart skipped another beat. Saints, the man got to her.

“Oh! You have new clothes.” He was wearing a well-used pair of blue jeans and a soft pale blue shirt.

He laughed. “New to you. Old to me.” He patted his leg. “I am so glad to have my favorite jeans back. Took me four years to break in these babies so they fit just right.”

“They do fit you. Better than your suit did.” She was talking about his personality, but he did fill them out just right. He caught her looking and she blushed like crazy.

He grinned. “Glad you approve.”

Wholeheartedly!
But she couldn’t say that, could she? Nor could she say how she’d like to put her hands all over those jeans as long as he was in them. “Um, do you still want to go out to dinner tonight? There’s this place not too far from here that has great fish,” she managed to say in a semi-normal voice.

“Let me guess. H. Salt Fish and Chips?”

“No. It’s called Mongabay Grill. It’s very good.”

“Sounds perfect. It’s my treat. Give me a minute to change out of my old faithful jeans.” He jumped up like a schoolboy. “Whoo-hoo, I’ve got clothes again!”

Smiling, Ysabeau went to change into her pale pink silk shirt and pleated khaki slacks. She put on the coral necklace that used to be her mother’s and her beaded sandals. She reapplied her make-up and finished off the look with light pink lip gloss.
Ready.
Her heart was pounding so hard she sat on the foot of her bed and forced herself to take several deep breaths before she went out there.

It was ridiculous. Nothing had changed. She was still Ysabeau and he was still Luke. And yet, everything could change. If she let it happen. He said he cared about her.
Deeply
. He even said there were things about her he loved. If she was honest with herself, she would admit that there was a lot to love about Luke Carter too. And a whole lot to want. They could take a little time to enjoy the night together. The new samples would take twenty-four hours to cure. In the morning, she’d have new results. Better ones.

She took one more deep breath and went to the living room.

He rose from the couch to meet her. “You look amazing.”

Oh Saints, he did too. He was wearing khaki slacks too and a short-sleeved black linen shirt. Her gaze roamed over his muscular arms, to his chest, to his handsome face and settled on his lips. Her pulse kicked up double-time.

She flushed and took his arm. “Shall we go?”

*

The restaurant was
small and intimate with a strong seaside décor. According to Ysabeau, the restaurant’s claim to fame was fresh seafood. To drive home the point, there was a large tank of live lobsters in the entry, a few large fish mounted on the walls, and old, mended nets draping down from the ceiling. It leaned toward of overkill but didn’t quite tip in that direction. In the bar, a young woman was singing a bluesy song accompanied by a really great guitarist. The tables were covered with cloth and lit by candles. Not overly fancy. A good thing in Luke’s book.

“Why didn’t I take a single French class in school?” He glanced over the large menu at Ysabeau. “I can’t read a single word.”

“Shall I order for us?”

“Good plan. I’ll eat pretty much anything as long as it’s not moving on my plate.” He thumbed toward the tank of lobsters squirming over each other.

“What do you like to drink? The rum is pretty good here. They make it with sugarcane instead of molasses.”

He tried not to grimace. “Sweet drinks aren’t my thing. I’m more of a beer man.”

She scanned the menu. “Ah, they have Prestige. A local beer.”

“I’m always up for a new beer.”

After the waiter had taken their orders, Luke sat back and appreciated the view. The candlelight on the table flickered across Ysabeau’s smooth skin and danced in her amber eyes. He could have gazed at her all night. Knowing that their time together was limited made moments like this bittersweet. “Tell me about the clinic. What made you want to get involved with the medical trial?”

She rubbed her palms on the napkin in her lap. “I first started out as a research scientist, studying the effects of anti-virals. Five percent of HIV/AIDS patients were resistant to standard drug therapies. None of the traditional medicines or cocktails worked for them. Do you know how horrible that is? Helplessly watching patients die, knowing there is nothing to save them?”

He was far too familiar with that feeling. He dipped his head in acknowledgement, mesmerized by the glowing conviction in her eyes.

“I had to do something,” she went on. “After work hours, I experimented with different medicines and combinations until I created a serum I knew would work. It had a ninety percent success rate on rats. They were cured, Luke! I knew I could cure my patients too.” Her voice dropped. “I still believe I can.”