Free Protector by Catherine Mann Page A

His chair skidded back against the wall.
    Without acknowledging the fact that Berg was studying him curiously, Rex made tracks out the door, down the corridor, taking the stairs two at a time. He didn’t question why he was searching for Chuck. He just knew he had to look the young captain in the eyes, a damaged man he’d sent undercover.
    Rex hit the deck by the pool just as Chuck rounded the corner. Alone. Jolynn must have gone to her exclusive suite, obviously nowhere near the more bare-bones accommodations where the staff lived.
    The deck was sparsely populated, most everyone else having turned in for the night. Waves lapped a rhythmic tune. A couple made out by the rail. An older guy lounged in a deck chair sneaking a smoke, his cigar glowing in the night. A cleaning crew mopped the deck in sections while a bartender shut down his station for the night, lining up bottles and emptying ice buckets. The pool glowed with a submerged purple light, giving it an eerie cast.
    It should be safe enough to pretend to ask Chuck for directions since his shirt bore the
Fortuna
staff logo.
    “Excuse me?” he called out to Chuck, stopping beside a stone fountain with a goddess pouring water into the pool. “Could you help me out with some directions?”
    Chuck’s head snapped up, his eyes sharpening fast. Reassuring to see. He glanced over his shoulder and walked to Rex by the fountain. “Sure, where do you need to go?”
    By now, they stood near enough to each other and the fountain, far away from the stray night owls. “What happened tonight? The sound went out.”
    A generic enough statement if anyone happened to overhear, but Chuck would understand full well what he meant.
    “Sorry, but I don’t have an answer for you. I was out walking with a friend.”
    Walking with Jolynn Taylor. “Nice night for that.”
    “A very wise nun once told me that spending time with a woman is always a good idea.”
    Rex studied him through narrowed eyes, ready to press him for more when a sound from across the deck shut him down. He glanced over his shoulder quickly to find a drunken woman— the contessa— stumbling toward an upper deck with her boy toy. Rex waited for them to pass before lowering his voice.
    “Well, we need to win this one,” he said softly while gesturing to a freestanding map of the ship so it would look as if he were discussing the directions. “And make sure you keep us in the loop next time. I don’t like losing contact.”
    Chuck nodded once, then turned away. His steps were slow and even. Rex watched for any signs of physical stress or strain. Chuck’s body had taken such a beating, his recovery was nothing short of a miracle. But the fact remained, he couldn’t fly any longer due to a burst eardrum. Further, injury to his spine put him at risk for paralysis in ejection seats or parachuting. He had so many pins in his body he would set off metal detectors in airports.
    What the hell had he been thinking insisting he put himself back into the line of fire this way?
    Watching the door close behind Chuck, Rex stuffed his fists into his pockets. Damn. His hands were shaking so hard he couldn’t dodge the truth.
    He hadn’t rushed to see Chuck to make sure the man was alive, to be sure the captain still had his edge.
    Rex was making sure he hadn’t lost his own.
    *  *  *
     
    Hugging her knees, she sat in the damp grass at the edge of her father’s garden, peering around a bush sculpted tolook like a battle horse. She’d been waiting for her dad, hoping to have some time with him on her own. Since her mother died, all he ever did was work.
    She squeezed her eyes shut for a minute against the sting. She was twelve years old, for Pete’s sake. Too big to whine like a baby because her dad was too busy for her. Pissed off at him and herself, she pitched a big fat rock at the Venus de Milo fountain a dozen feet away. Her father collected all those stone statues of big-breasted women like his own personal