He gave her back a rough thwack. “Good. Chin up, kid. You’ll be okay.”
She rounded into the dining room just in time to see Irene saddle up to Jackson. He offered an uncertain smile, his expression baffled while the coppertop pressed against his side to straighten the tarnished silver skull and crossbones pin on his collar.
“There you go, sugar butt,” she said, slapping his rear with an affectionate pat. “All better.”
Marx whipped around at the comment. The young recruit’s eyes flared, his cheeks flushing a bright crimson as he lifted his hands in supplication. Josh masked a laugh by coughing into his fist. Taking his seat at the head of the table, Sebastian stared with marked disapproval—his piercing gaze tracking the woman’s every move.
Oblivious to the scene she’d caused, Irene hurried over to take the tray from Taylor’s hands.
“Take a load off and enjoy your man, baby girl. I got this. After all serving people is what I do best,” she proclaimed with a saucy wink.
“Oh, no I…” Taylor started, but it was too late.
The shapely redhead had already snagged the tray and sashayed to the foot of the table where Marx was taking a seat. Donning a bright smile, Irene leaned over his shoulder to place his drink beside him, her ample breasts almost spilling out in front of his face. Mortified, Taylor stood transfixed. One deep breath from the waitress and the SKALS director would lose his chin in a pale valley of cleavage. Silence hung over the room, and for one terrifying moment, she was certain she was going to get sick. The panic eased a little when Marx lifted a heavy brow and his lips twitched into an appreciative quirk. Not missing this, Irene gave one of his burly shoulders a squeeze before making her way over to Josh and Monique.
It was like watching a train wreck. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. One of Irene’s hands settled across Josh’s nape as she leaned between the couple to set their drinks down. He shrugged away, his face condensing on a scowl.
“Sit down, Taylor.”
Sebastian’s husky voice helped break the spell. Hurrying around the table, she took her usual seat. She didn’t dare meet his eyes. She could feel their weight settling over her as surely as his hand, leaving her little doubt she would feel it, if not the bite of a leather strap later. The thought made her shift in her seat and forced unwanted tears to her eyes.
“Stop it,” he warned beneath his breath, his voice taut and iced with the cold edge of authority.
Nodding, Taylor lowered her head and wrung her hands, forcing herself to comply.
“Geez, maybe you should drag someone away for another quickie,” Irene teased, jabbing an inquiring thumb Sebastian’s way. “Lover boy seems a little tense and on edge today.”
Kicking her under the table, Taylor shot her friend a look of raw pleading, her cheeks burning with shame. Marx leaned back in his seat, his broad chest straining as he folded his arms. The diligence in his ebony eyes assured he had missed nothing. Edging slightly closer to Sebastian, Taylor quelled a nervous tremor. She was thankful when everyone started passing the serving platters and dug into their meal.
“Okay, the food is fabulous but the conversation really sucks,” Irene stated around a mouthful of salad. “Someone say something. How was work today, Sebastian?”
“It was fine,” he said without glancing up from his plate.
“Catch any bad guys?”
“Not today.”
She turned her attention across the table and mimed a stage whisper. “No wonder he buys you fancy cars and diamond rings.”
Taylor winced as Sebastian set his knife down and leaned back in his seat. His eyes narrowed into questioning slits.
“What is it you are trying to say, Irene?”
She shrugged, dismissing him with a flamboyant wave of her hand. “Nothing, really. Just that someone is being a bit of a sourpuss tonight. I mean, hell, you didn’t even give her a kiss hello after she busted her hump in the kitchen all day.”
Sebastian’s lips curled with a cruel smile. “You may find our relationship lacking, but you are sorely mistaken if you think it is my wallet making her stay.”
Taylor’s heart sank as his glare continued to burn into the woman. Closing her eyes, she prayed Irene had the sense to apologize or zip her lips.
The redhead gave a nervous laugh. “I was just trying to lighten things up a bit. The mood is so damn tense around here you could crack a walnut. Don’t get yourself all worked up. I’m sure Tay is much more interested in what’s down the front of your pants. Your wallet’s not the only thing that’s bulging round here, stud.”
Monique sputtered and Taylor slumped lower in her seat, wishing she could disappear when Marx’s disapproving glower swung her way. Josh choking on the bite he’d taken certainly didn’t help matters any. He muttered a quiet thanks as his lover patted his back, her face lining with concern.
Sebastian took a long sip of wine. His hooded stare with blistering. Setting his glass down, he gave a slow shake of his head. “You truly are a piece of work, Irene.”
“Thank you.” She grinned. “I’m so glad you noticed.”
His smile was forced and cold. “That was far from a compliment. Eat.”
“Yes, sir,” she shot off with a playful salute.
Bordering on hyperventilation, Taylor tried to focus on her plate. Her stomach churned as she pushed a piece of chicken around with dispassionate interest. Like fire, fear seemed to suck the oxygen from the room and she battled with the urge to fling the front doors open. Maybe she could push Irene through them before things got any worse. Feeling the full weight of Sebastian’s discontent, she slumped even lower.
“So what is it that you do, big boy?” Irene asked, aiming her attention Marx’s way.
He frowned at her choice of words and dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “I oversee company operations.”
“Sounds sexy,” she said. “Exciting…you must be a very powerful man.”
“I am well on my way.”
“That’s awesome. What is it they say? Under every successful man lies a strong woman?” she teased with a lecherous waggle of her brows.
Taylor couldn’t smother her mortified gasp. “Irene, please!”
“What, honey? He’s a good-looking man and I don’t see a ring. You can’t blame a girl for trying.”
Marx’s fathomless laughter rolled through the room. “I assure you, it would take a much stronger woman than you to lie under me.”
“I don’t know about that, honey. I’m a mighty quick learner.”
All humor fled his broad features. “How generous of you to enlighten me. I advise focusing some of that energy on learning proper dinner etiquette. It’s as good of a place as any to start. Someone pass the bottle. My drink is empty.”
Jackson immediately snared the scotch from the middle of the table and handed it Marx’s way. He looked relieved to have found some form of distraction, no matter how fleeting. Taylor couldn’t blame him. A chilling silence gripped the room and she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands and cry. It wasn’t as volatile as what had happened on Christmas Eve but, somehow, it fel
t infinitely worse.
Her head snapped up as Josh’s leg hit the table, jarring it hard enough to rattle plates and silverware alike. His dark blue eyes blazed as he shot a disbelieving look Irene’s way. Wordlessly, he cleared his throat and edged closer to the blonde on his other side. Worry lined Monique’s delicate brow as she searched his face in confusion. Josh merely shook his head in response.
“My apologies,” he muttered. “Leg cramp. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t,” Marx advised. “Potassium, Reevers. Take some. Your team needs you functioning at full capacity.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are you working on?” Irene asked.
“Nothing we can discuss, Ma’am,” Jackson said, flashing a disarming smile. “Every mission is top secret.”
She returned his grin. “Right. I forgot. So tell me, what’s it like working under Sebastian? He’s your boss, right?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” A collective ease fell over the room, the topic somehow seeming much safer. “Agent Baas is extremely intelligent and intense. I find it both an honor and a privilege to serve under him.”
“Mmm hmm,” Irene purred, looking Sebastian’s way. Her eyes trailed over him in an appreciative sweep. “I’m sure you do.”
Sebastian jerked back, his jaw knotting. Without warning, his hand flew, striking with the lethal speed of a cobra. Taylor’s eyes flared as a vicious backhand knocked the redhead out of her chair and sent her sprawling. The sharp crack echoed like a gunshot through the room. Ice crawled through her veins while her terrified brain tried to process what had just happened.
A low howl rose from the floor and ripped through her heart. Shaking, Taylor started to stand to help, but Sebastian caught her wrist, his fingers biting deep.
“Sit. Down.” His voice came in a low, menacing growl.