Operation Willow Quest Read Online Free PDF Page A

sweat. “Of course not…” he stammered, unable to hold the almost
inhuman stare of the man before him.
    “Then there’s the welfare of that gorgeous new
grandson and your pretty daughter, to think about,” Trèago added, moving across to the desk with a panther-like grace that even being
dressed in prisoner’s uniform couldn’t hide. He reached out and traced a finger
around the gold-framed photo of a chubby toddler, his adoring parents smiling
down at him proudly.
    “You have my full cooperation, Trèago , as always.”
    “Good,” he said, and beamed, “much more
pleasant when we’re all on the same page, don’t you think, Warden?”
    The man nodded, a grimace of a smile crossing
his face as he dabbed at the sweat on his brow with a white handkerchief.
    “Thank you for the use of your phone…pleasure doing
business with you,” Trèago said, moving away from the
desk and toward the door where he waited for the two guards to escort him back
to his cell, where he’d been in the middle of watching his stocks rise on the
market via his laptop. Yes, he had it all working for him in here, and soon,
he’d have the early release he’d been planning for the last two years—and
revenge would come swiftly for the people responsible for putting him in here
in the first place…
    * * * *
    It was too hot to sleep. Kicking at her sheets
irritably, Willow
decided to take a glass of water out onto the back deck in search of a cool
breeze.
    As she slid open the door, she saw a dark
shadow sitting on the deck.
    Instinctively, she knew it was Del. He watched her
approach without reaction, sitting with his wounded leg propped up on another
chair. His chest was bare and she saw the silver metal tags he wore around his
neck as they shimmered in the bright moonlight.
    It was too late to turn around and go back, since
he’d already seen her, but she now wished she’d stayed in bed.
    “Can’t sleep either?” His
deep voice carried across the deck to her and she pulled out a chair at the
table to sit down.
    “No. What about you?” she asked, and then
groaned. Obviously he can’t sleep—he’d
just said so , she chastised herself.
    Taking a sip from the bottle of beer in his
hand, he offered her one from the small collection of unopened bottles on the
table.
    Willow raised an eyebrow. “Having a party out here?”
    He gave a lift of one big shoulder, the action
causing her gaze to automatically follow the muscle movement and then roam
lower over the dark shadow of chest hair lightly dusting the centre of his
torso where it darkened gradually, until tapering down to vanish beneath the
band of his sweat pants. Tearing her gaze away, startled at where it had
travelled, she found herself caught in his shadowed, but no less compelling
blue gaze.
    Mortified at being sprung staring, she reached
out quickly and accepted one of the bottles he’d offered earlier—busying
herself opening it, taking her time, in order to avoid that knowing grin of
his.
    “It was too hot to sleep.” He leaned sideways,
snagging a t-shirt from beside him, and pulled it on.
    “Yes it is hot…to sleep,” she added, and once
again wished she’d just stayed in bed. She was acting like a tongue-tied
teenager! Get a grip, Sheldon!
    They sat and drank in silence, listening to the
crash of waves down on the beach below. Gradually, she allowed the salty tang
of the night air to ease away her misgivings, and she found that, when he
didn’t talk, Peter Delaware could actually be quite good company. And then he
spoke.
    “You know, there was a time, not so long ago,
when I would never have believed Ox would be a happily married man with a
baby.”
    Willow took a sip of the cold
beer, enjoying the malty taste, and gave a nod of agreement. “Sometimes life
can throw in some strange twists.”
    “ Kinda puts things in
perspective a little bit. Maybe I’m getting old and that makes the thought of
slowing down sound better every day.”
    “Maybe you should