8
“Christian?”
Luke could feel Zoe’s voice through the street noise as much as he heard it. It resonated in some way that confirmed her identity through instinct long before he could have actually recognized it. It was down at the level of a SEAL training gestalt—simply known. When had that happened?
Maybe because, while putting up with Christian’s ego, he’d pieced together DeMille’s plan…and how it had just broken. The key had been the change in her when she’d entered the garage.
Tweety Bird DeMille—again dressed in yellow—had flown away and suddenly a very serious woman stood in her place despite the flowing clothes that made her look almost ethereally pretty. When she’d asked why the cars were still here in Dakar, he could hear the deep importance of the question. Then her vast disa
