Free Permanent Marker by Angel Payne Page B

upper cheek to the corner of his eye. “And I’d like to thank you for it. Good work, Ms. Fabian. It’s an honor to have you on the Baghdad team.” After releasing her hand, he drawled, “Later, Marker Man. Thanks for the update. You’re right. It was worth touching down from Venezuela. So let’s go take that dive after you get back, yes?”
    “As long as it’s your turn to pick up the beer tab after.”
    “Right!”
    Dante Tieri drew out the vowel on that parting shot, letting himself out and taking Brandt with him.
    She was suddenly very much alone with Mark Moore. In a very large suite that felt very small.
    He pulled off his jacket, his gaze never leaving her.
    She followed every inch of the graceful action, feeling fifteen, infatuated, and ridiculous. Again.
    All right, dinner would have to be skipped. It was time to just cut to the chase, get this whole skirmish over with, then march her backside out the door. She couldn’t stay, not when he already had her heart forgetting beats just because he’d shucked his jacket.
    She needed some air. The slider to the patio and the garden was open. With careful steps, she made her way there. Cicadas sang in the trees, which waved in a breeze smelling of approaching rain. She glanced up to find Mark’s stare still on her, silent and assessing. He barely moved—until she dashed her tongue over her lips. A small hiss erupted from his. She swallowed, tearing through her brain for something to fill the tightrope walk of a moment.
    “Why did he call you Marker Man?” She said it with true curiosity, grateful she hadn’t had to fall back on some inane comment about the weather. He shrugged, actually looking a little uncomfortable about the answer. Hmm. She’d knocked him off-kilter for once. The feat wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be. His reply, however, earned an uptick of attention.
    “Dante and I don’t screw around with each other. Sometimes that makes us a couple of bulls in a china shop, especially when we’re together. But it’s also formed the base for a great friendship. One day we tossed some beers and started indulging ourselves in semidrunk emotional guy shit about it. He told me I was in his book in ‘permanent marker.’ We laughed like a pair of idiots about it, but it’s stuck.”
    The story was pretty endearing. She told him so by tilting a smile at him as she stepped outside. Marker Man Moore and Inferno Boy Tieri, a bromance for all time.”
    “Repeat that to anyone, and I promise, no matter where you’re at in the world, I’ll come after you—and the floggers will be packed.”
    Her mind played out an image from his words. Him, bare-chested and rippling with strength, whipping a pair of floggers through the air in beautiful symmetry. Her, spread and bound to one of those X-shaped crosses from the BDSM clubs, moaning and arching beneath the mixture of pleasure and pain.
    She pulled in a sharp breath, hoping he didn’t hear, and sat in one of the padded chairs next to the villa’s private pool. Her panties, now seeping, decided to share their hydration with the entire apex of her thighs. Recrossing only made matters worse.
    New topic. Redirect this conversation, now. You’re here to talk logic and reality, not succumb to chemistry. You’re not one for the best odds where chemistry is concerned, Ro.
    “So, you two go diving together?” Shockingly, she kept her voice even. “Where, in Lake Michigan? I’ve heard there’s shipwrecks down there. That must be kind of fun. Do you live in Chicago now?”
    He didn’t make a move to sit with her. Instead, he slipped off his tie, then strolled to the slider that led to the bedroom and tossed the burgundy garment into the room. He didn’t close the door when he was done. Still leaning against the jamb, he drawled, “You’re quite the inquisitive thing tonight. Trying to skirt a subject, Ms. Fabian?”
    “Y-you didn’t answer my question.”
    He looked out over the pool. “I