case I decide to take an unexpected swim,"
he returned a little too pleasantly as he started toward the
cliff.
"I mean, why were you following me?" She found herself trailing
him obediently. The knowledge annoyed her. She wondered why she
was doing it and then realized it had to do with the fact that
there was a touch of command in the way he spoke. It was a part of
him, she realized; a faint hint of an innate ability to demand
cooperation and obedience from others. Some people were born with
it. In the corporate world they became financially successful. In
the military world they could become very dangerous. It occurred
to her that there had probably been a time when men had moved very
quickly in response to Matt August's commands.
"I wanted to talk to you," he explained evenly as they reached
the open jeep parked on the cliff. He rested one foot against the
fender and pulled up the damp cuff of his khaki slacks. "I wanted
to explain about last night. Hand me that towel, will you?"
Sabrina bit back a sharp response and handed him the towel that
was lying folded on the backseat. She watched as he unbuckled the
wet leather sheath and removed the knife. Carefully he wiped the
blade, his brows in an intent, heavy line as he performed the
small task.
"You show a lot of concern for that thing," Sabrina muttered.
"Old habits die hard. Besides, Kirby would have my head if he
thought I wasn't taking proper care of his creation."
"Who's Kirby?"
"The man who made this knife. He's an artist in his own way. One
of the finest craftsmen I've ever met." Matt shook his head in
disgust. "He'd have collapsed laughing if he could have seen me
last night."
"Never found yourself on the business end of a knife before?"
Sabrina taunted coolly.
"Sure. But not one of my own."
The calm, flat way he admitted it made Sabrina unexpectedly
nervous. She found herself wondering what happened to the other
people in the world who had pulled knives on ex-Major Matt August.
Then she reconsidered the fact that ex-Major August was now
running a tourist bookshop in balmy Acapulco, Mexico. Perhaps he
hadn't been all that good at being a major.
"Get in and I'll take you back to the hotel." Matt put a hand on
the edge of the windshield and challenged her with a cool glance.
"We can have a cup of coffee or something."
"The cabdriver is returning for me in another hour," she told
him, wishing desperately that she could read the look in Matt's
shuttered eyes. This was the man who had tried to rape her last
night, she reminded herself. She must be out of her head even to
think of climbing into the jeep and accepting a ride back into
town.
"If he doesn't find another fare in the meantime." Matt waited.
On the other hand, this was also the man she had intuitively
selected out of a crowd last night, Sabrina told herself. Even in
the broad light of day, knowing what she did about him, Sabrina's
instincts still responded sharply to his presence. He was quite
sober this morning. If she could handle him last night when he'd
had too much to drink, she could handle him this morning. Besides,
he was probably right about the cabdriver.
"Please, Sabrina. I want to talk."
Sabrina made her decision. She swung herself lightly up into the
passenger side of the jeep without a word. Matt was in beside her,
turning the key in the ignition before she could change her mind.
"I'm surprised anyone takes a chance on driving in Mexico,"
Sabrina observed as he guided the jeep nimbly onto the road toward
town. "Just being at the scene of an accident is a crime here,
isn't it? I've heard that Mexican law is based on the Napoleonic
Code. Guilty until proven innocent."
"I've got insurance that buys me some protection, and I know who
to contact to buy the remainder if I ever need it," Matt answered
with a shrug. "Close your eyes if my driving makes you nervous."
"I think I can handle it
he returned a little too pleasantly as he started toward the
cliff.
"I mean, why were you following me?" She found herself trailing
him obediently. The knowledge annoyed her. She wondered why she
was doing it and then realized it had to do with the fact that
there was a touch of command in the way he spoke. It was a part of
him, she realized; a faint hint of an innate ability to demand
cooperation and obedience from others. Some people were born with
it. In the corporate world they became financially successful. In
the military world they could become very dangerous. It occurred
to her that there had probably been a time when men had moved very
quickly in response to Matt August's commands.
"I wanted to talk to you," he explained evenly as they reached
the open jeep parked on the cliff. He rested one foot against the
fender and pulled up the damp cuff of his khaki slacks. "I wanted
to explain about last night. Hand me that towel, will you?"
Sabrina bit back a sharp response and handed him the towel that
was lying folded on the backseat. She watched as he unbuckled the
wet leather sheath and removed the knife. Carefully he wiped the
blade, his brows in an intent, heavy line as he performed the
small task.
"You show a lot of concern for that thing," Sabrina muttered.
"Old habits die hard. Besides, Kirby would have my head if he
thought I wasn't taking proper care of his creation."
"Who's Kirby?"
"The man who made this knife. He's an artist in his own way. One
of the finest craftsmen I've ever met." Matt shook his head in
disgust. "He'd have collapsed laughing if he could have seen me
last night."
"Never found yourself on the business end of a knife before?"
Sabrina taunted coolly.
"Sure. But not one of my own."
The calm, flat way he admitted it made Sabrina unexpectedly
nervous. She found herself wondering what happened to the other
people in the world who had pulled knives on ex-Major Matt August.
Then she reconsidered the fact that ex-Major August was now
running a tourist bookshop in balmy Acapulco, Mexico. Perhaps he
hadn't been all that good at being a major.
"Get in and I'll take you back to the hotel." Matt put a hand on
the edge of the windshield and challenged her with a cool glance.
"We can have a cup of coffee or something."
"The cabdriver is returning for me in another hour," she told
him, wishing desperately that she could read the look in Matt's
shuttered eyes. This was the man who had tried to rape her last
night, she reminded herself. She must be out of her head even to
think of climbing into the jeep and accepting a ride back into
town.
"If he doesn't find another fare in the meantime." Matt waited.
On the other hand, this was also the man she had intuitively
selected out of a crowd last night, Sabrina told herself. Even in
the broad light of day, knowing what she did about him, Sabrina's
instincts still responded sharply to his presence. He was quite
sober this morning. If she could handle him last night when he'd
had too much to drink, she could handle him this morning. Besides,
he was probably right about the cabdriver.
"Please, Sabrina. I want to talk."
Sabrina made her decision. She swung herself lightly up into the
passenger side of the jeep without a word. Matt was in beside her,
turning the key in the ignition before she could change her mind.
"I'm surprised anyone takes a chance on driving in Mexico,"
Sabrina observed as he guided the jeep nimbly onto the road toward
town. "Just being at the scene of an accident is a crime here,
isn't it? I've heard that Mexican law is based on the Napoleonic
Code. Guilty until proven innocent."
"I've got insurance that buys me some protection, and I know who
to contact to buy the remainder if I ever need it," Matt answered
with a shrug. "Close your eyes if my driving makes you nervous."
"I think I can handle it
Similar Books
