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“Mom went last year,” he offered reluctantly. “It about killed me. I’ve lost a lot of friends. One in particular…” His voice trailed and his Adam’s apple bounced on his throat. He glanced at me then back at the lake. When he finally spoke, his voice came out hoarse. “I’ve got the team now, but… it’s been rough.”
I settled my hand on his. “I’m sorry for your losses.”
He inclined his head and held on to my fingers. “I’m sorry for your losses, too.”
“I’m especially sorry for all my ugly crying.” I flashed a tentative grin and tried to lift our somber moods. “Nobody should have to see that, let alone have to put up with it.”
“Nothing you do is ugly, Angel.” He lifted a hand and ran his fingertips along the side of my face, recreating a scene frommy dreams down to the words he said next. “You’re beautiful. You’re perfect, even when you cry.”
It came to pass naturally, easily, as if it had been waiting to happen all day. He looked down and his gaze lingered over my lips. At the same time, my deep awareness of his mouth grew. Surrounded by the dark shade of his whiskers, his lower lip was wider than his upper. The notch above his lip gave him a distinctly etched phylum that defined his eminently masculine and totally kissable mouth.
His lips brushed over mine tenderly, so gently. They were warm and vital and delicious, just as I remembered from the first time, and from my dreams, too, although the real deal was much more powerful. The feel of our mouths merging curled my toes in my shoes. I remembered what came next. I parted my mouth, craving him, eager to recreate the very flavors that blew up my senses—earth, iron, and fire.
My tongue dipped in his mouth and met his. A low rumble in the depths of his throat gusted through me like the wind catching a spark.
Swoosh.
I deepened the kiss, guided by a flare of heat that melded us together. His stubble rubbed against my skin. Another sexy growl rattled his throat, a sound that had me moaning in appreciation of his passion.
This was not a boy’s fumbling attempt at a kiss. Or a gold digger’s faked advance. It was a grown man’s possessive kiss, wild passion devouring me and unleashing my desire. He raked his mouth over mine, stealing my breath, quickening my pulse until the veil between dreams and reality faded and the only thing that mattered was him.
His hands moved over my body, exploring my flesh. His fingers curled around my hair. I trembled beneath his caresses. Moved by a primal force I recognized from my dreams, I leanedinto him.
He shifted a hand to my breast.Oh, Lord. I almost pulled back, but it felt so darn good. He cradled my flesh in his palm as his thumb strummed my nipple, a slow, lazy brush. Raw pleasure roared through me. It was as if he and I had always meant to kiss like this, as if his mouth had been designed to fit over my lips and his tongue was meant to dance with mine.
“Stop.” He wrenched his mouth from mine and listened into the wind, rupturing the spell that had me caught in his arms.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, a breathless whisper. “Is it another donkey?”
“This ain’t no donkey.” Releasing me from his arms, he lifted into a crouch and grabbed his carbine. “Hear that?”
I tilted my head and caught a distant rumble. “A motorboat?”
“Coming in fast and without lights.” He motioned for me to follow him. “That’s a speedboat heading our way. Stay low.”
Heart hammering in my throat, I grabbed my backpack. Stealing through the grass, we moved north for a couple of minutes, then paused and took cover behind a cluster of trees. Lying flat on the ground, Javier whipped out his binoculars from a case strapped to his belt and focused them on the lake.
“Fishermen, maybe?” I dared to hope.
“Nope. Not fishermen. Nice speedboat. Over there.” He pointed into the total darkness.
“Can’t see anything,” I whispered.
“Activating night vision capabilities.” He worked his lenses. “Confirming speedboat. Five tangos. Armed for combat. Heading east by northeast.” He lowered the binoculars and narrowed his eyes. “If I had to guess, they’re planning to make landfall about two miles north of our camp. They’re hoping to surprise us by docking riverside and using the old road. But howthe fuck do they know where we’re camping?”
“I don’t know, but… the nuns.” My stomach plunged. “We have to help them.”
“Why did I know you were gonna say that?” He put away the binoculars. “We gotta move fast. We’ve got fifteen mikes, maybe less if the fuckers move faster than average.” He pushed off the ground, and seizing his rifle, stalked through the high grasses. “Follow me.”
“What are we going to do?” I asked, sticking to his heels.
“You’re gonna do what I say,” he rumbled. “I’m gonna take care of the problem.”
I caught up with him and whispered even as we continued to move. “Do you have to… you know… kill them?”
The steely glimmer in his eyes told me he was already figuring out how he was going to handle this. “My job is to keep you safe. Considering they want to take you out, killing them is the most efficient way to make sure they fail.”
“Is there no other way?”
