Page 52 of Chris

He didn’t want to be there.

Clearly.

With everyone’s attention on the row of fireworks that Samuel was setting off, while Abril kept an exhausted Maria safely away, Chris slipped inside the house. He had to pass by Valeria to do it, and met her gaze unashamed as he did so, arching a brow before he disappeared inside.

Without saying anything at all, his silent challenge sounded like, Well, are you coming?

Did the man read her mind?

She would soon find out.

It was foolish, no doubt about it. At least, inside the house, Valeria would be able to slip into another room should someone come inside, or even run upstairs. There were variables that worked to her favor here, and she figured it should be safe enough to at least try to have a private conversation with the man.

Valeria ducked into the house but she found the back hallway empty. Not knowing where Chris had gone, she walked further down the hall, a shriek dying in her throat when a hand snapped out to grab her at her elbow before someone yanked her into the downstairs bathroom.

“What—”

Valeria didn’t even get to finish her sentence before he slammed the bathroom door shut, leaving her in darkness. A form pressed her against the counter. She knew it was Chris who pulled her inside by the scent of him.

Intoxicating, she thought, like his taste, too. Crisp and fresh like a freshly fallen snow.

“Turn the light on,” Valeria said, air rushing with her words, trying to ignore the rushing desire in her bloodstream. “Please.”

Chris did just that, the space lighting up although it took a second for her eyes to adjust to the brightness. He backed up a bit, giving her enough room to breathe, but that was all he afforded her in the small bathroom. It wasn’t made for two people, and her body knew it given his proximity.

“We have, what, ten minutes before the fireworks stop?” he asked.

Valeria wet her lips. “About that. I have questions.”

“About what?”

“Whatever you said to my daughter yesterday.”

Chris blinked, the hard lines of his handsome face softening as a smile fettered over his lips. “That’s what you want to ask?”

“Yes.”

“Not about what I said to you in the stables? I figured that would be on your mind.”

“It is,” Valeria blurted, “but my daughter comes first for me … always. No exceptions, and so if something about you might put her in danger, even unknowingly, then I have to handle that. Surely, you can understand.”

Chris’s throat jumped at her words, like maybe he swallowed something back before he muttered, “Hurting her—accidentally, or not—is the last thing on my mind, trust that.”

“Still, what did you say to her?”

“Val—”

“I want you to tell me.”

His gaze darted away, but his tone came out low when he said, “I asked her about Haven … and New York. I needed to give her something she understood. Something that would resonate with her, right, because she needs to believe I’m not like the rest of the people here. I’m different. She misses Haven and her school in New York. She doesn’t like you crying a lot, or that her father hurts you.”

That was not what Valeria expected. A mixture of things had a lump growing in her throat, the emotions lodging there to take her breath away, and make her want to sob at the same time. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and she clenched her fists into tight balls at her sides.

The mention of Haven—her only friend they forced her to leave behind when Jorge found her—made her emotional, but the rest just drove the knife in deeper, and twisted until everything was pain.

“You’re aware Haven got married,” Chris added, “to Andino Marcello since you were there. That’s who hired me. To come here, and figure out a way to get you the fuck out of here, in case you wondered. That’s why I’m here.”

God.