ahead and shower.”
He’d suggested exactly what she had in mind but it was the way he’d said it. Like an order. With an edge of dismissal.
Those days were over. “No.”
“Excuse me?” The words carried a menacing thread. Davis was not a man accustomed to being questioned.
She was convinced that summed up what went wrong in their relationship. She never rolled over, but she’d let him get away with too much. Asked too few questions. Now that they weren’t even dating, her tolerance for the tone was gone.
Ignoring their audience and her usual need to make a good first impression, because she’d blown that with the hair-wrapped-in-seaweed thing, she launched into the tirade that had been building since she’d hit that first guy with a lamp this morning. “This is not going to be one of those situations where the little lady leaves the room so the men can talk. I’m in this. Don’t want to be, but I am. If you talk about the case, I’m here.”
“I like her.”
Davis practically growled at Joel over the comment before turning back to Lara with his full angry-man persona in place. The tick in his cheek was new and drove home his tenuous hold on his control. “You’re going to get sick.”
“Hardly,” she said, even though she feared he was right. To prove her nonexistent point she let the blanket fall to the floor. “It’s still over ninety degrees outside and it’s two in the morning.”
Pax whistled as he slipped into one of the conference-room chairs. “She got you there.”
Davis’s gaze dropped down her body. The heated stare had her squirming in her skin. But she refused to check and see what he was seeing. If her shirt was plastered to her or a piece of garbage from the water hung off her shirt, she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want anything to ruin her stand.
Davis held up a hand. “You’ll get mad over this—”
“Then don’t say it.”
“—but the truth is there are things you can’t hear.”
The whirling in her head sped up then popped. “A man got gutted in front of me. We can pretend this is about your job, but I still think it’s about mine.”
Connor cleared his throat. “I tend to agree with her. She was conducting an emergency interview for a pretty important NCIS position. A lot is at stake here for Martin Coughlin. We don’t know what Wasserman planned to say but he sure was hot to say it.”
“Makes me wonder what this guy Coughlin is trying to hide.” Joel grabbed a file from the desk behind him and threw it on the conference table. It slid to a stop in front of Pax. “And I think we should find out.”
“You all know about my interview?” She regretted the question as soon as she said it.
Never mind the confidential nature of her job—of course they knew. She’d filled Davis in out of necessity and he’d told Pax. It was like a covert-operative gossip circle. The news and theories likely spread among this group within minutes.
Pax winked at her. “We’re on it.”
There was a low rumble of laughter in the room. They shifted and filed into seats around the table. It was as if the tension had snapped and they felt safe to move again.
All but Davis. He stood stiff and still a few feet away from the conference table. “You’re all forgetting the most important point.”
Pax glanced up from the file. “Which is?”
“No one but the people in this room and a very few in the Department of Defense with the right clearance and a need-to-know have any idea about Pax’s boat.”
“May she rest in peace,” Pax mumbled. Added a few profane words, too.
“Our financials are not available to just anyone.” Davis folded his arms in front of him. The simple move, along with the monotone quality to his voice, had everyone snapping to attention and looking at him. “Our list of assets is confidential and buried deep. If the attacker found it, and it looks like he did because I know I wasn’t tailed on the drive to the marina, someone
He’d suggested exactly what she had in mind but it was the way he’d said it. Like an order. With an edge of dismissal.
Those days were over. “No.”
“Excuse me?” The words carried a menacing thread. Davis was not a man accustomed to being questioned.
She was convinced that summed up what went wrong in their relationship. She never rolled over, but she’d let him get away with too much. Asked too few questions. Now that they weren’t even dating, her tolerance for the tone was gone.
Ignoring their audience and her usual need to make a good first impression, because she’d blown that with the hair-wrapped-in-seaweed thing, she launched into the tirade that had been building since she’d hit that first guy with a lamp this morning. “This is not going to be one of those situations where the little lady leaves the room so the men can talk. I’m in this. Don’t want to be, but I am. If you talk about the case, I’m here.”
“I like her.”
Davis practically growled at Joel over the comment before turning back to Lara with his full angry-man persona in place. The tick in his cheek was new and drove home his tenuous hold on his control. “You’re going to get sick.”
“Hardly,” she said, even though she feared he was right. To prove her nonexistent point she let the blanket fall to the floor. “It’s still over ninety degrees outside and it’s two in the morning.”
Pax whistled as he slipped into one of the conference-room chairs. “She got you there.”
Davis’s gaze dropped down her body. The heated stare had her squirming in her skin. But she refused to check and see what he was seeing. If her shirt was plastered to her or a piece of garbage from the water hung off her shirt, she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want anything to ruin her stand.
Davis held up a hand. “You’ll get mad over this—”
“Then don’t say it.”
“—but the truth is there are things you can’t hear.”
The whirling in her head sped up then popped. “A man got gutted in front of me. We can pretend this is about your job, but I still think it’s about mine.”
Connor cleared his throat. “I tend to agree with her. She was conducting an emergency interview for a pretty important NCIS position. A lot is at stake here for Martin Coughlin. We don’t know what Wasserman planned to say but he sure was hot to say it.”
“Makes me wonder what this guy Coughlin is trying to hide.” Joel grabbed a file from the desk behind him and threw it on the conference table. It slid to a stop in front of Pax. “And I think we should find out.”
“You all know about my interview?” She regretted the question as soon as she said it.
Never mind the confidential nature of her job—of course they knew. She’d filled Davis in out of necessity and he’d told Pax. It was like a covert-operative gossip circle. The news and theories likely spread among this group within minutes.
Pax winked at her. “We’re on it.”
There was a low rumble of laughter in the room. They shifted and filed into seats around the table. It was as if the tension had snapped and they felt safe to move again.
All but Davis. He stood stiff and still a few feet away from the conference table. “You’re all forgetting the most important point.”
Pax glanced up from the file. “Which is?”
“No one but the people in this room and a very few in the Department of Defense with the right clearance and a need-to-know have any idea about Pax’s boat.”
“May she rest in peace,” Pax mumbled. Added a few profane words, too.
“Our financials are not available to just anyone.” Davis folded his arms in front of him. The simple move, along with the monotone quality to his voice, had everyone snapping to attention and looking at him. “Our list of assets is confidential and buried deep. If the attacker found it, and it looks like he did because I know I wasn’t tailed on the drive to the marina, someone
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