Читать книгу Texas Hero - Merline Lovelace, Merline Lovelace - Страница 11

“Yoga?”

Ellie’s disbelieving laughter rippled through the sun-washed hotel room.

“You do yoga?”

“According to my instructor,” Jack intoned solemnly, “one doesn’t ‘do’ yoga. One ascends to it.”

“Uh-huh. And who is this instructor?” she asked, forming a mental image of a tanned, New Age Californian in flowing orange robes.

“One of the grunts in the first platoon I commanded.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope. Dirwood had progressed to the master level before joining the Corps.”

She shook her head. “You know, of course, you’re blowing my image of United States Marines all to hell.”

“Funny,” Jack murmured, “I thought I’d pretty much already done that.”

He peeled off his sunglasses, tucked them in his shirt pocket and propped his hips against the sofa back. His blue eyes spent several moments studying Ellie’s face before moving south.

She withstood his scrutiny calmly enough but knew she looked a mess. Sweat had painted damp patches on her scoop-necked top, and her khaki shorts boasted more wrinkles than Rip Van Winkle. She was also, as Jack proceeded to point out, a bundle of nerves.

“You’re wound tighter than baling wire. You have been since I arrived.”

No way was she going to admit that a good chunk of the tension wrapping her in steel cables stemmed as much from seeing him again after all these years as from the problems on the project.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” she replied with magnificent understatement.

“It takes years to really master yoga techniques, but I could teach you a few of the basic chants and positions to help you relax.”

Somehow Ellie suspected that getting down on the floor and sitting knee-to-knee with Jack would prove anything but relaxing. Part of her wanted to do it, if for no other reason than to test her ability to withstand the intimacy. Another part, more mature, more experienced—and more concerned with self-preservation—knew it was wiser to avoid temptation altogether.

“Maybe later,” she said with a polite smile.

“It’s your call.”

“So what do we do now?”

“We wait until I get a report on the SUV.”

Sitting twiddling her thumbs with Jack only a few feet away didn’t do any more to soothe Ellie’s jangled nerves than getting down on the floor with him would have.

“Since we’ve got the time now,” she suggested, “why don’t I show you some of the digital images I took at the Alamo and at the excavation site?”

“Good enough.”

“I’ll boot up the computer. Drag over another chair.”

More than agreeable to the diversion, Jack hooked a chair and hauled it across the room. It was obvious why she’d shied away from his offer to teach her some basic relaxation techniques. She was jumpy as a cat around him. Not a good situation. For either of them.

A tense, nerve-racked client could prove too demanding and distracting to the agent charged with his or her protection. Jack’s job would be a whole lot easier if he could get her to relax a little. Not enough to let down her guard. Not so much she grew careless. Just enough that the tension didn’t leave her drained of energy or alertness.

Still, he had to admit to a certain degree of relief that she’d turned down his offer. The mere thought of folding Ellie’s knees and elbows and tucking her into the first position was enough to put a kink in Jack’s gut. Breathing in her potent combination of sun-warmed female and cactus pear perfume didn’t exactly unkink it, either. Scowling, he focused his attention on the long list of files that appeared on the computer screen.

“We’ll start at the Alamo,” Ellie said, dragging the cursor down the list. “I want to show you the shotgun I was talking about.”