found a cat carrier beside her. “Masters!” she cried out softly.
The huge tabby, well-travelled and comfortable in his personal cage, meowed back. She slid several fingers through the holes in the wall and stroked the animal’s silky fur. His diesel engine kicked out the walls of the cage in a distinct hum. She’d loved that cat. She didn’t know if she had legal rights to him or not but was happy to foster him until they could find out.
With a gentle smile on her face she looked over at Mason who sat across from her buried in thoughts. “Thanks, Mason.”
He rolled his head her way, saw her and the cat and shook his head. “Not me. Thank Dane. And he’ll catch hell for it too.”
“Oh no.” That was the last thing she wanted, but it was hard to be upset with the cat’s huge eyes staring so trustingly at her. “Masters and I are old friends. I used to cat sit him at my house when Michaels was still my prof.”
“Hmm.” But there was humor in Mason’s voice. “Never knew Dane to be a cat person.”
Shadow, walking over to sit down beside Mason, said, “He’s not. He’s a Marielle person.”
The two men snickered.
She blinked, not getting the jibe for a moment, then felt her cheeks flush bright red. She gazed at the cat, a tiny smile on her lips. Really? “He’s very sweet,” she murmured.
The men laughed. “Yeah, that’s Dane all right. He’s sweet.” Shadow raised his voice loud enough for the rest of the occupants in the plane to hear. “We should call him that from now on.”
Dane came out of nowhere and shoved his face into Shadow’s rollicking laughing one.
Marielle gasped. “What are you doing?” she scolded. “Shadow has been a big help.”
Dane backed off, rolled his eyes and Shadow lost it, slumping down in the chair, snickering. Marielle turned her gaze to Mason who was desperately trying to hold his own amusement in.
“Dane’s really a very nice man,” she said earnestly. “He’s been good to me.”
Mason, his face contorting with effort, managed to keep his mouth shut as he got up and walked to the back. She frowned at his retreating back. Were his shoulders shaking?
Spinning around she caught Dane’s brooding glare. She threw up her hands. “What did I say?”
“You called me sweet,” he growled.
Her face softened, her hand instinctively going back to touch Masters. “And you are,” she said gently. “I really appreciate that you brought Masters.”
“I couldn’t leave him behind,” he growled, “and none of the neighbors wanted him or could tell me if there was anyone left to look after him.”
“Exactly.” She beamed at him. “See…caring, kind…sweet.”
*
H E SHOULD BE insulted. There was really only so much a man could take. The guys were never going to let him live this down.
Yet he wasn’t insulted – not really. Or rather, if she’d said that while the two of them were alone, he’d not have minded at all. Still the guys would razz him good for a while. Then, he’d done his fair share of bugging them, so maybe it was his turn. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
He napped in a half doze, always alert but knowing the trip was going to be long enough and if he could catch some rest, it was the best option.
At the sound of whispers in the back, he sat quietly for the moment then straightened and looked around. Marielle lay draped across the cat cage and appeared to be asleep, but something was going on with his team. He got up and made his way to the back. “What’s up?”
“Orders to change course,” Mason said. “We’ve got intel on Michaels’ boss. He was just tagged entering Italy.”
Damn. He glanced back at Marielle. “Did you explain we have an injured civilian on board?”
Mason winced. “Yeah, she’s to go to a medical center and we’re to leave her there. The US Embassy will be contacted on her behalf.”
The other men sucked in their breaths. That was not something any of them would
The huge tabby, well-travelled and comfortable in his personal cage, meowed back. She slid several fingers through the holes in the wall and stroked the animal’s silky fur. His diesel engine kicked out the walls of the cage in a distinct hum. She’d loved that cat. She didn’t know if she had legal rights to him or not but was happy to foster him until they could find out.
With a gentle smile on her face she looked over at Mason who sat across from her buried in thoughts. “Thanks, Mason.”
He rolled his head her way, saw her and the cat and shook his head. “Not me. Thank Dane. And he’ll catch hell for it too.”
“Oh no.” That was the last thing she wanted, but it was hard to be upset with the cat’s huge eyes staring so trustingly at her. “Masters and I are old friends. I used to cat sit him at my house when Michaels was still my prof.”
“Hmm.” But there was humor in Mason’s voice. “Never knew Dane to be a cat person.”
Shadow, walking over to sit down beside Mason, said, “He’s not. He’s a Marielle person.”
The two men snickered.
She blinked, not getting the jibe for a moment, then felt her cheeks flush bright red. She gazed at the cat, a tiny smile on her lips. Really? “He’s very sweet,” she murmured.
The men laughed. “Yeah, that’s Dane all right. He’s sweet.” Shadow raised his voice loud enough for the rest of the occupants in the plane to hear. “We should call him that from now on.”
Dane came out of nowhere and shoved his face into Shadow’s rollicking laughing one.
Marielle gasped. “What are you doing?” she scolded. “Shadow has been a big help.”
Dane backed off, rolled his eyes and Shadow lost it, slumping down in the chair, snickering. Marielle turned her gaze to Mason who was desperately trying to hold his own amusement in.
“Dane’s really a very nice man,” she said earnestly. “He’s been good to me.”
Mason, his face contorting with effort, managed to keep his mouth shut as he got up and walked to the back. She frowned at his retreating back. Were his shoulders shaking?
Spinning around she caught Dane’s brooding glare. She threw up her hands. “What did I say?”
“You called me sweet,” he growled.
Her face softened, her hand instinctively going back to touch Masters. “And you are,” she said gently. “I really appreciate that you brought Masters.”
“I couldn’t leave him behind,” he growled, “and none of the neighbors wanted him or could tell me if there was anyone left to look after him.”
“Exactly.” She beamed at him. “See…caring, kind…sweet.”
*
H E SHOULD BE insulted. There was really only so much a man could take. The guys were never going to let him live this down.
Yet he wasn’t insulted – not really. Or rather, if she’d said that while the two of them were alone, he’d not have minded at all. Still the guys would razz him good for a while. Then, he’d done his fair share of bugging them, so maybe it was his turn. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
He napped in a half doze, always alert but knowing the trip was going to be long enough and if he could catch some rest, it was the best option.
At the sound of whispers in the back, he sat quietly for the moment then straightened and looked around. Marielle lay draped across the cat cage and appeared to be asleep, but something was going on with his team. He got up and made his way to the back. “What’s up?”
“Orders to change course,” Mason said. “We’ve got intel on Michaels’ boss. He was just tagged entering Italy.”
Damn. He glanced back at Marielle. “Did you explain we have an injured civilian on board?”
Mason winced. “Yeah, she’s to go to a medical center and we’re to leave her there. The US Embassy will be contacted on her behalf.”
The other men sucked in their breaths. That was not something any of them would
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