Remy nodded. “Don’ go gettin’ in any more fights or I’ll have to arrest you.”

Drake heard the faint humor in his voice. “You can always try.”

12

DRAKE made his way to the entrance of the inn, his team sweeping tirelessly behind him. Joshua circled the inn while Evan went ahead and Jerico trailed him. It was quite frankly annoying. He knew how Jake and Emma Bannaconni felt when they left their home surrounded by bodyguards, but damn it all, he was the bodyguard. He headed up his own teams for hostage rescue both for Bannaconni and in the rain forest. He glared at Evan. It didn’t help that he was certain Evan hid a grin.

He swore under his breath and Saria glanced up sharply at him.

“Are you all right?” She sounded anxious. “I could ask one of the men to help me get you upstairs.”

Great. She thought he was about to fall down. Suppressing the groan, somewhere between annoyed and amused, Drake dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Just don’t like our escort. Fucking idiots thinking they have to guard me.”

She coughed. He searched her averted face suspiciously. “You’d think my own woman might have a little sympathy for my situation. These men are never going to let me live this down.”

Pauline Lafont stood at the front door, her hands on her hips, a stern look on her face as he came limping up. “I hear you went chargin’ to Saria’s rescue and got yourself in a bit of trouble,” she greeted.

Drake sighed. “News travels fast around here.”

Pauline stepped aside to allow him entrance. Evan, already in the room, stood just to the right of the large living area, gun loose but ready in his hands. His gaze met Drake’s over the top of Pauline’s head and flicked to his left, toward the corner Drake didn’t have a visu on. His hand signed subtly. Pauline was not alone. Drake forced his body to straighten and he stepped just a little ahead of Saria, sweeping her back with one arm, signaling Jerico with another subtle hand movement as he did so.

Saria didn’t protest, nor make a big deal out of it. He loved that about her. She had a measure of trust in him he wasn’t altogether certain he deserved yet, but he was determined to live up to it.

“He definitely has heroic tendencies, Miss Pauline,” Saria chattered, as if Drake just hadn’t signaled possible danger.

She’d read him, he knew she had, but she didn’t miss a beat. His heart swelled with pride. The more he was around her, the more he knew absolutely that she was the one. She would stand with him, no matter the danger, or the hard times. Saria Boudreaux was the kind of woman a man kept forever.

He stepped past Pauline, already turning to face whoever was hidden behind the corner. The scent of blood and sweat hit him immediately, providing identification. Amos Jeanmard lay on the sofa, an ice pack pressed to one cheek, his chest heavily bandaged. He didn’t bother to try to get up, obviously very conscious of Evan’s weapon. The barrel was down, but still pointed in his direction.

Joshua came in through the kitchen, gun ready, his gaze on Jeanmard. He signaled all clear to Drake.

“Jeanmard,” Drake greeted.

“Lickin’ my wounds and lettin’ my woman fuss over me a bit,” Jeanmard said. “You hit like a freight train.”

Drake nudged Saria. “See that? His woman fusses over him. She doesn’t call him a big baby,” he whispered, overly loud.

Jeanmard snorted. “You won’ be gettin’ sympathy from me. I tried to get you out of it, but you went all Rambo on me. Now you’re stuck with her.” He grinned, self-satisfied. “Me? I’m retirin’ on the front porch and rockin’ with my woman.”

Pauline pushed past Drake and sank down in a chair opposite Amos. “I put supper out after I tended to Amos, so please feel free to eat. I’m sure you’re all hungry.”

Joshua nodded. “Thanks, ma’am.”

“Don’t think for one moment I believe your crap, Jeanmard,” Drake said, towering over him, hands on hips. “You knew exactly how I’d react. You played me. You and Remy.”

Jeanmard grinned at him. “Not Remy. I knew either you or Remy would come at me. I wasn’t expectin’ such a violent attack and thought I could put on a bit of a show before handin’ over the reins. Instead, I think you broke all my ribs.”

Drake glanced at Jerico and then to Joshua. Both shook their heads. The house and grounds were clear of any enemy. Jeanmard was alone. Drake signed his crew they could stand down and eat. They sent him a small, taunting grin, knowing he had gotten himself in over his head here in the Louisiana swamp—for a woman. He wouldn’t be living it down any time soon.

“Take a seat before you fall down,” Jeanmard suggested. “There’s no need to play the tough guy around me. I’ve felt you hit and I’m already suitably impressed.”

Drake might have believed him if he hadn’t caught the note of laughter and knew he’dn played for a sucker. The old man had wanted out and he’d found a sure way to do it. “I might have killed you,” he pointed out, sinking down into one of Pauline’s comfortable chairs. It felt a little like heaven to him.

“I’ll get you some food,” Saria offered.

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She was worth it, although a little sympathy might have added to the deal. He felt Jeanmard’s scrutiny and let her hand slide away. “You’ve got a few problems here, Jeanmard.”