Her eyes were gorgeous, a startling blue, like jewels. So deep blue they were almost certainly contacts. She glanced back down at her book, but he could tell she wasn’t reading it anymore. He’d probably scared her. He wasn’t like some of his fellow GhostWalkers, who seemed to walk into a room and have half the female population enthralled—and that had nothing to do with their enhancements and everything to do with their good looks, charisma or both, none of which he had.
The breakfast was set up buffet style with a long row of warmers laid out on a table. He would have his back to the room when he served himself food, but he seemed to be the last man to breakfast. The moment he’d walked in he’d become uneasy, but no one was there but the two of them—the blonde and him. Was the threat coming from her? Was it even a threat? He was on vacation. Didn’t that mean there was no threat? Hell if he knew.
He dished himself food, standing sideways to keep her in sight. Her gaze jumped to him and she lowered the book partway, both feet coming to the floor, when she’d been relaxed, one leg curled up under her. He sent her a cocky grin.
“See you’re readin’ my favorite book.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You have no idea what I’m reading.”
He was an enhanced GhostWalker with the very sharp eyes of an eagle. “It’s a romance titled Toxic Game.” He hoped he didn’t have to describe what the book was about because he didn’t have a clue.
She glanced down at the book as if she couldn’t believe he knew the title. When she looked back up at him, his heart went a little crazy. The sun hit her just right, turning her blond hair into a waterfall of ice and gold sparkles. The strands actually dazzled his eyes for a moment, so that he lost sight of her. Her image blurred. He could only see that amazing, overpowering shine.
He blinked to bring her into focus. When he managed to get her back in his sight, he found himself staring into her vivid jeweled eyes, eyes blazing blue flames at him.
“You do not read romance books.” Her chin went up. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to read about men who believe in monogamy. I doubt you’d know anything about that.”
He took a chair facing her and drank his coffee slowly, studying her furious little face. She was beautiful all riled up. His heart was going a little crazy and all at once he felt very much alive. Maybe this vacation thing wasn’t going to be so bad.
“What makes you think that? If I read romances, clearly I like happy endings and prefer books where men and women are faithful to one another.” It was all about thinking fast on one’s feet. Any GhostWalker should be excellent at that.
“I think you’re so full of—” She broke off as a woman came into the doorway, clearly agitated, so much so that she seemed to completely miss that Malichai was even in the room.
“Amaryllis?” It was Mrs. Stubbins, the owner of the bed-and-breakfast. “I know your break isn’t over for another fifteen, and you were up half the night already for me, but would you mind helping out in the kitchen right now? There’s something wrong with the dishwasher and I can’t get Jacy to settle down . . .” She trailed off when she noticed Malichai sitting at his table. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought everyone was finished.”
“I was late coming down this morning,” he said. “Is there something I can do to help? I’m not bad with fixing things like dishwashers. Fixed Nonny’s a time or two.” Mostly she never used her modern dishwasher and critters ate the wires, but he wasn’t going to say that.
“No, no, you’re a guest,” Mrs. Stubbins said.
Malichai had been ordered to take leave and to continue with his therapy by swimming in the ocean. The women and little girls were happy to gather around the Fontenot table in the kitchen with brochures spread out and decide his fate. They’d chosen the little bed-and-breakfast in San Diego, California. A beachfront property, it was reputed to have amazing cuisine, which was the only thing he cared about. The owner had been investigated because one didn’t have a multimillion-dollar piece of high security equipment running around without knowing everything about where he was going or who he might be coming in contact with.
Mrs. Stubbins was a widow—the widow of a soldier who had lost his life fighting for his country three years earlier. She was struggling financially, mostly because her daughter’d had two operations on her heart and those didn’t come cheap. Malichai liked her and everything he’d read about her in the file they had on her.
She bit her lip. “Besides, I think that dishwasher is just old and has given up the ghost.”
“Mrs. Stubbins, if I didn’t help you out, my grandmother would have my hide. Lead me to the broken-down piece of equipment and let me see what I can do.”
He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the tattoos up and down his arms, and went to her, keeping Amaryllis in his sight the entire time. She left the book and came around the table hastily, as if she feared he intended Mrs. Stubbins harm.
“Please call me Marie. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all, Marie. Give me something to do. I’m not very good at vacations.”
Amaryllis trailed after them. He didn’t like her behind him, so he deliberately, and gallantly, stepped aside to wave her past him. She hesitated for just one moment, but then hurried to catch up with Mrs. Stubbins. She actually slipped on by her and was in the kitchen first, so she had her back to the wall and her eyes on him as he strode in. She didn’t seem afraid so much as leery of him.
Marie Stubbins swept her hand toward the large commercial dishwasher she’d already pulled out. “I tried to check it out myself, but I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I can look it up on YouTube, and maybe find a checklist we can go over ourselves,” Amaryllis suggested sweetly. “That way Mr. . . .” She trailed off, expecting Malichai to supply his name. Marie had been the one to check him into his room on his arrival.
He didn’t. Instead, he sat on the floor and looked at the impressive amount of tools Marie had laid out. “Thanks, Amaryllis. I’d appreciate the help. While you do that, I’ll look this over and see if I can find anything that jumps out at me.” Ignoring her, he looked up at the owner of the bed-and-breakfast. “You say it just stopped working?”
“It was working fine last night, but then this morning when I went to turn it on, it wouldn’t budge.”
Malichai was very aware of Amaryllis staring at him indecisively, and then she flounced out of the kitchen. He couldn’t help smirking. They were off to an excellent start.
“Don’t worry, if I can’t get this thing going, I’ll help Amaryllis with the dishes, and we’ll figure something out.”
Marie looked as if she might protest, but clearly she was too defeated. She just flashed him a wan smile. “I don’t know how to thank you. We can take a day off—”