Page 54 of Final Approach

My cheeks heated to boiling. Instead of addressing the growing tension between our bodies and the tingling sensation in my groin, I shifted two inches to put much needed space between us.

Was Nikki coming on to me while suggesting I bed another man?

Pursing my lips and fighting my hormones, I raised an eyebrow. “So, your bright idea is to seduce an armed criminal?”

“Technically correct,” he mused, picking at his nails with a growing smile. “And it might not even take seduction. Bet you he hasn’t been kissed by a beautiful woman in a long time.”

He waved his hands at our jungle surroundings.

“I truly believe he cares about keeping us safe—keeping you safe, most definitely. And, I’ll bet my left arm he won’t have any qualms about hiding evidence.”

He brought one hand down to rest on my knee, which heated at the touch. “I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise, baby girl. I would never put you in danger.”

Baby girl. That nickname did things to my heart and my underwear.

The sincerity in his tone pulled my eyes back to his. I hadn’t forgotten the way he’d kissed my forehead and gripped me to his chest, gentle and protective. I believed him.

I just needed to get the gun from a very dangerous and highly attractive madman, no big deal.

You went up against a bear and won, Marley. You can do this.

They had one thing in common, after all. They both wanted to eat me for dinner.

Another blush heated my cheeks. My seduction skills were nonexistent. Maybe he’d have low expectations and I could get away with a handsy kiss and a few well-timed giggles. I had a feeling our resident convict had gotten laid a lot more recently than I had.

I knew how to use the gun, at least. My father’s obsession with Armageddon had more than prepared me on the proper use of weaponry. I hadn’t carried one in years, though.

“This plan is insane,” I grumbled as the sky bruised purple on the horizon, marking the start of dawn.

Nikki hadn’t removed his hand from my knee and his thumb moved in tiny rhythmic circles along the sensitive outer skin. I couldn’t bring myself to remove it.

“It is,” he agreed, speaking into the sunrise instead of to me, as if neither of us acknowledged this thing between us, it wasn’t happening. “But, we’re desperate. We can’t be blamed for what we do when we’re desperate.”

“Desperate people do desperate things,” I repeated my earlier thought. “Let’s hope this is as desperate as it gets.”

Day 3 – After crash

“I’m going on a fruit run,” my captain announced. “Madman, can you come with me?”

Opening my eyes from sleep, the plump curves of two wide hips were my first vision, followed by a heavy set of breasts, and a beautiful cherub face with tired green eyes. She stood in front of the mat I’d taken, holding two emptied matching backpacks. By its placement above our heads, the sun had risen hours ago.

I had laid down for an hour before falling asleep, discontent to leave half of Clube de Morte to their own devices while the moon still hung in the sky. I’d watched the two of them while they watched the night, but mostly, I’d listened.

Their voices were whispers beyond the sizzling of the struggling fire, but when a man lived in his own tomb, whispers were deafening.

My second defended me without my presence. Our captain observed all angles to protect those in her care. They knew Diaz’s badge meant as much as used toilet paper. The conversation had pleased me.

My transporter had been lying dormant under the guise of docility. He had smiled at Santos with promises of safety, then pricked me with drugs and threatened the family I never knew. He played the part well, but it was time he revealed his purpose. It was my next task after this.

She was too precious, my ángel. How would she use those beautiful curves to seduce me? I would simply return the gun to her if she asked, unable to say no to this woman’s desires—as long as it remained out of Diaz's grasp.

I knew many ways to kill a man. Murder through bare hands was far more satisfying.

Patience was a virtue—perhaps the only one I had. I would escape once I had my answers from Diaz and assurances of my people’s safety. I’d waited twenty years for a taste of freedom. A few more days were of little consequence.

So now, I waited.

Licking the film of sleep from my lips, I grabbed the bag of candy I’d stashed beyond the mat in a small hole of dirt, and withdrew a lollipop. Unwrapping it carefully, I shoved it in my mouth and savored the sweet, chalky taste. A poor substitute for toothpaste, but a better breakfast than nothing.