Leather and Sand (Riding the Line Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

deal Hawk had put in motion before his old man met his untimely demise. If Vidal didn’t….well then Dax would persuade him. He never approached deals without a backup plan—a rule that had served Dax well over the years. Dax had set up this one right by taking the time to put some safeguards in place before arrived. The Natives president agreed to his conditions on a preliminary basis once he was reminded of his own debts to the Phantoms . Now that was sticking to the code.
    After a few minutes, Dax pegged Vidal’s head of security, a swarthy, older man of questionable ethnicity. Unlike his flashy boss, the other man was reserved. He stayed in the shadows, as though he preferred to be inconspicuous. The way the man stood smacked of military background. More than once, Dax thought the man’s expression flickered with distaste as he monitored the goings-on at the table.
    Interesting. Maybe he got handed down to the kid, too.
    The lights dimmed and Dax was grateful that his view of Vidal was now somewhat obscured. A man appeared on the stage and began speaking about the charity the fundraiser would benefit. Some kids thing. Made sense. The well to doers in the room needed a nice, honorable way to shelter some of their tax dollars. Dax knew he was jaded, but he didn’t give a shit. All he wanted to do was secure the shipping connection, seal the deal with the Natives, and get the hell back to Darling. At least he was slightly more comfortable there. He thought.
    There was a murmur in the crowd as someone approached the podium. Absently, Dax picked up his glass and brought it to his lips as the first speaker, the apparent organizer of the event, took the stage. He was mid-swig when the speaker’s first words floated to his ears and an explosion went off in his brain as he was assaulted by rapid-fire memories. Scents, sighs, satiny skin…the sensations wracked his body like electric shocks.
    Dax nearly choked on his brandy as he fought not to rip the speaker right off the stage. Instead, he froze, fixating on the tiny slip of a girl who stood there commanding the attention of everyone present. There could be no mistaking her, even from across the crowded room.
    It was Rhiannon. His Rhee.
    ***
    “What the fuck?!” Wince had noticed her too and had started to rise but Dax stilled his over-anxious friend by tugging his sleeve and shaking his head.
    “Now is not the time, Wince.”
    Wince looked visibly shaken. Dax watched the gamut of emotions run across the younger man’s face. Surprise, elation, confusion, and a finally little anger flickered in Wince’s eyes. Dax wondered if his own reaction had been equally as candid. He felt that part of him, the one that responded to hurt by turning inside, shrink even smaller as aversive prickles attacked what was left of his heart. His hand was actually shaking as he reached for the card on the table, and it pissed him off. He snatched the program and scanned down to find the event organizer’s name.
    Sabrina Jeffries. Cute.
    “Sabrina” was still speaking and the room hung on her every word. She sounded confident, poised, and she looked like a goddamn million bucks. Clad in a deep blue gown, he could see that the stowaway had filled out a little. Even from his vantage point at the back of the room, she seemed…older. Her passion for the work she was doing carried through in her voice, and Dax could see the patrons opening up their wallets to support her cause.
    The fact that Rhee was flourishing angered Dax for some reason. He felt his jaw tensing. His fists clenched involuntarily, rendering the helpless program into a crumpled wad, which he tossed onto the floor. He kicked back his brandy in one gulp as Rhee exited to deafening applause. Stuffing his roiling emotions deep into his guts, he forced himself to put her out of his head. He was here for a reason. Dax took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, making eye contact with Vidal’s head goon. He offered a common hand