Will Yarnel
Australian ex-military
Works as a private investigator to find missing persons and trafficking victims
Based in Brazil
Current assignment: Taking trafficking victim Tiffany Morrow home to Denver CO
Can’t help a growing attraction to Dani Harper, despite her engagement ring
Sneak peek
Rod yawned again and pushed back from the table. “Sorry guys, but I’m done. I’m heading back to the hotel.”
Will nodded, thinking Dani would probably want to do the same, but she didn’t move. He smiled. “You’re not tired, possum?”
She shrugged. “I got in a short nap after my shower this afternoon.” She tilted her head toward the champagne on ice. “And it’s not gone yet.”
Will hitched a brow as he reached for the bottle once again. “I suppose this big ole thing won’t fit in those little tiny fridges they give us.” He poured out two more glasses, and she lifted hers to her lips. “So I guess you like champagne. I suppose that fits.”
“Oh, really.” She set the glass back on the table. “Fits in what way?”
Will twigged he’d probably spit out a clanger with that line. “Oh, just that you’re looking very schmick tonight.”
“Schmick?”
“Stylish, classy.”
“And why do I get the feeling you don’t approve? Either of my clothes or the fact that I like champagne?” She drank another sip.
God, now he was in trouble. “No, I didn’t mean anything… You look… lovely.” More than lovely, but seeing her mussed and sweaty in the jungle had nearly stopped his heart. Now she seemed… too sophisticated. Unreachable. He quickly grabbed his own glass and guzzled a third. She should be “unreachable,” you drongo. She’s engaged.
She drank the rest of hers as though it were a challenge, then waved down a passing waiter for another bottle.
Will leaned forward over the table. “Dani, you’ve had a pretty traumatic day. Maybe you should go easy—”
She matched his posture, her eyes radiating her irritation. “You’re damn right I’ve had a dramatic… traumatic day, and if I want champagne, I’m going to drink champagne. You are welcome to go to bed without me.” She waved a hand at her very own clanger. “I mean, go to bed with Rod.”
Will couldn’t help smiling. She was well on her way to drunk already.
“Don’t laugh at me!” she insisted crankily as the waiter showed up with their next bottle. “You know what I mean.”
Will sat back slowly, running a hand over his beard as he tried to suppress a laugh. He wasn’t sure where this mood was coming from, but he suspected that the danger she’d put herself in this morning was finally hitting her, and he wasn’t about to leave her to drink with the flies.
After the waiter unwrapped and popped the cork, Will took it and poured two more glasses.