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.