Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Could she willingly have sex with another man?
“Time’s up.” Nico tilted his head, his fingers playing with the short black hair on his jaw. “I need an answer.”
“No.” The strength of her voice rose from a place of besotted resolve, but it was resolve nonetheless.
With her heart in her throat, she pushed away from the table, strode out of the gazebo, and took the path through the lemon grove, heading toward Matias. There would be a shitload of introspection in her near future, like was that decision ever really hers to make? But she knew with certainty, no matter what happened, she would never regret choosing Matias.
He lifted his head at the sound of her steady footfalls, and when he stood, the relief etching his expression sent her heart racing. And her feet.
Hands behind his back and stance wide, he stared at her without moving, forcing her to take every last step toward him, sealing her future with him. Her choice solidified as she ran, and when she reached him beneath the canopy of leaves, she looped her arms around his neck.
He stood still for a moment, his rigidness choking her heartbeats.
Slowly, confidently, his arms wrapped around her back, smothering her against him. His chest felt hard, burning up through the thin material of his Henley. A vein bulged in his brow, the sinews in his neck strung tight. She stroked his throat, making his breath catch.
“Gracias,” he said in a raspy rumble and touched their foreheads together.
Her entire body trembled as she slid her fingers along his softly shaved jawline and stabbed them through his hair. “I’m scared, Matias.” Scared of him. Scared Nico will take her away from him.
“I know, mi vida. I know.” He kissed her with a glide of lips and warm gasps. “Thank you for facing your fears with me.”
He kissed her again, this time with force and urgency, his tongue sliding against hers and his fingers digging along her spine. Then the kiss was no longer a kiss. It was his lips whispering into her heart and his breaths caressing her soul. He was hers in his citrus grove, and she was his in any manner he wanted.
It was a dream, one that would take a lot of work and even more answers. But for now, she savored it, tasting and licking his mouth. He was hunger and passion, his tongue tangling with hers with a ferocity that curled her toes.
He swung her around, and hard wood met her back. She lifted her gaze to a ceiling of leaves and ripe yellow lemons. Laughter burst from her chest, shaking her against the tree trunk and breaking the kiss.
His hand swept through her hair as he studied her intently, smiling. “What?”
“Kissing me in a lemon grove, Matias?” She shook her head, grinning wider. “I guess if it worked the first time…”
“And the time after that.” He kissed her. “And the next time.” Another kiss. “Every time, Camila. You’ve never denied me in our grove.”
“No. I suppose I haven’t.”
The crunch of shoes on gravel sounded behind him, and he sighed, resting his lips against her brow.
“Guess she likes you better than me.” Nico stepped off the path, stopping a couple feet away, hands in his pockets and a strange look on his face.
She untangled herself from Matias and shifted away from them.
“You knew what he was going to offer me,” she said to Matias.
“Yes.” He held his hands behind his back.
“What if I had agreed?” She kept her tone quiet, more curious than accusatory.
His eyes slid to Nico, and they shared one of those unspoken looks she couldn’t begin to decipher.
These assholes had planned this, all of it, to test her. More specifically, Matias had set it up. Why would Nico go along with it? What did he gain from it? Something about their relationship niggled, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.
She backed up a couple steps so she could study them side by side.
Nico was a hard one to decode with his shroud of suits and disinterest. He was a couple inches shorter, maybe ten pounds smaller than Matias, and around the same age. Nico’s complexion was a shade fairer, his scowl a hundred times darker, and he was intimidating in the mysterious way he was always inconspicuously watching, always present. Like a guard.
Contrarily, Matias was jeans and guns and hot-blooded temper, but he didn’t carry the vigilance of a sentinel—which she assumed was one of his jobs. In fact, he had a slew of guards that followed him everywhere.
“Why do you need armed chaperons?” She narrowed her eyes at Matias.
“I know things.”
“What things?” She ground her teeth.
“Important things that require security.”
“You give me answers that tell me nothing.” She rubbed her head. “What is your job in the cartel?”
Nico cleared his throat, drawing her gaze. He looked away, and she swore a smile touched the corner of his mouth. That was weird. And why was his shoe scuffing the ground?