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“Seems you’re settled. The truck is getting towed this evening to Mike’s Garage off the main highway in town. He knows to charge me directly for all repairs.” A lie. The hunk of junk will be scrapped by sunrise. This island isn’t so massive that she can’t get to where she needs to be by bicycle, or on foot.

Perched on the edge of the bed, she leans back, hands propped on the mattress behind her, which pulls the fabric of her tank tight across her tits. Legs slightly spread, just enough for me to imagine them wrapped around my back. “What do I owe you for all of this? A blow job? Doggy? Anal?”

Tongue sliding across my teeth, I contemplate every one of those positions with her. If it were up to me, I’d indulge them all. As much fucking as I could pack into a single weekend. Unfortunately, she had to go and put herself on Julio’s radar.

“You’ve got me alone. In a hotel room. No one would even have to know.”

Except, they would, and this girl has no idea how quickly prying eyes catch on my personal affairs. How easily I could turn both of us into a game of target practice for Julio’s men.

Her tongue sweeps over her lips, and she pushes herself closer to the edge of the bed, widening those pale and slender thighs. “I promise not to scream. Or make too much noise.”

“What’s the point of this?”

Shoulders slouching in defeat, she huffs and sits up. “Because you did something nice for me. Now I’m doing something nice for you.”

And I’ve never wanted to fuck something more in my life, but I do it on my terms. Not hers. I step toward her and take in the delicate tilt of her head, as she stares up at me. The natural curiosity and fire in her eyes that drives men like me crazy. She’s honed it well, this girl. Using sex as a weapon to get what she wants, and under any other circumstances, I’d be happy to take advantage of her gratitude.

But not tonight. And not because she expects me to.

I need to know who she is. Why she was staying in that abandoned shithole. Why Julio would send the dirty fed to trace my footsteps.

A cartel boss doesn’t tiptoe around some random girl who shows up out of nowhere. Unless she showed up intentionally. And she knows something she shouldn’t.

Drawing my finger down her cheek, I search those beautiful green eyes for something. Some devilish flicker that might tell me she’s calculated every step of this, but all I see beneath the feigned lust is sadness. “Who are you?”

“I told you who I am.”

Yet, I don’t believe her. I didn’t believe her when Brie told me her name, either. I’d probably have to torture this girl to get the truth out of her, because she doesn’t so much as flinch with the lie, which tells me she has a whole lot of practice in living in someone else’s skin.

“Stay in the room. Don’t leave for anything for a few days.”

“A few days?”

“It’s how long the shop says they’ll have your truck.”

“How did you manage to get ahold of a shop this late, anyway?”

“The owner is a cousin of mine. Distant.”

“I don’t have a few days. I was hoping to leave sooner than that.”

“Why?”

Instead of answering, she tightens her lips, the bullheaded little vixen. “Are you going to fuck me, Thierry, or ask me questions all night?”

A zap of pain hits my skull with the grinding of my teeth, and I force myself to step away from her. “You’re welcome to order food on my tab. Have a good night. Miss James.”

“That’s it? You’re putting me up in some fancy fucking hotel. Having my car repaired for God knows how much. And you’re telling me to sit here and order carry out for three days straight? People don’t just do nice shit for nothing. Men, in particular, don’t. And you’re not a saint. You hustled me into fucking you earlier so what gives?”

“You tell me. Who are you?”

“Never mind. I’m not playing this game. If we’re not fucking, I’m going to bed.”

“In that case, bonne nuit.”

“Bonne nuit,” she mocks, clearly pissed that I’ve rejected her again.

Good.