in the east end." She thought it appeared to be newer than the rest of the compound. She had even asked Phay about it. He'd answered her by telling a long-winded story about a politician with the Cambodian People's Party who thought he could get the best of Phay by taking him out with a hand grenade over brandies. "The east side of this place has been recently renovated."
"She's right, Michael," Dregs said. "Remember Stone blowing his top because the plans we had weren't the newest?"
"Yeah, I remember. Can we get out through the parlor?" Michael's question was obviously directed at Rhonda because he didn't look away from her.
The fact that he listened to her appeased some of her anger with him. It didn't erase it by a long shot. She was still pissed at him for walking away from her without so much as a "kiss my ass" or explanation. She still hurt from a far deeper pain than she could analyze right now. But the fact that he consulted her, that he wanted to hear her suggestion made her feel…good.
"There's a terrace off the east parlor, a wide set of stairs leading down, and the forest beyond that. I'm assuming that's a team of agents or somebody you've been talking to over those headsets. We can get lost in the trees, make our way around to the other agents, and get out of this hellhole, right?"
She half expected him to laugh, to tell her she read too many suspense novels. She never expected the show of white teeth as he graced her with the most brilliant smile she had ever seen on his handsome face.
"You're sure about this?"
"I'm positive."
"Sounds like a plan C to me," Dregs agreed.
Michael shook his head, and her heart did a disappointed dive into her stomach. Then she realized his smile came accompanied with a soft chuckle that sounded more of amazement than ridicule. When he touched the tip of her nose, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Remind me later to tell you how much I love you."
Rhonda's heart lodged securely in her throat. He didn't wait to hear her response. Good thing, too, because she couldn't speak now if her life depended on it. Come to think of it, her life depended on moving, which was exactly what he did.
Dregs's gentle, but pressured push to her foot set her moving after Michael. An equally pressured shove sent Michael's words to the back of her mind. She couldn't think about them now. She wouldn't allow herself to analyze the statement, her feelings for him, or if his words were brought on simply by the adrenaline of the moment. Did kick-ass DEA agents fall privy to the heat of the moment when they rescued a damsel in the middle of a war?
It didn't matter. If walking away spelled "I love you" to him, then she didn't want it. She had put up with enough thinly veiled love. If she couldn't find it written in great big neon letters, then she would rather do without, and she didn't care how unreasonable she sounded.
The passage narrowed as the duct cut right, barely leaving enough room for Michael's broad shoulders to squeeze through. When he stopped, he held up a hand in a silent gesture for her to stay.
She nodded and waited with bated breath as he crawled over the opening to get into position for removing the grating. She watched as he eased it down, then took a knife from a sheath on his side. She had already seen more of those than she cared to see in the days she spent in this place. If her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the weapon, it thumped triple time when he pulled a gun from the small of his back a moment later.
Rhonda wanted to tell him to be careful, but she clamped her teeth over the words. The time between his lowering himself through the opening and peering up at her through the hole seemed to stretch forever.
"We're clear." He motioned for her to come down, held up his arms.
"We're clear," she said to Dregs as she turned in the crawl space, not wanting to go down headfirst.
"Give me your hands."
She got her first good look at Dregs as she put her hands in his. A