but I can assure you that nothing bad will happen to you while you're under my protection."
"Your protection?"
"Yes."
"Do you work for Torres?"
"The Belizean drug lord?"
"Yes." I swallow the thick lump forming in my throat. "Please don't make me go back to him."
"Ma'am, I'm not delivering you to any drug lord."
There's a rustling in the woods, and the man pulls his gun out then puts it down. He leans over me, and his scent once again flares in my nostrils, stirring something in my core I've not felt in years.
I wish I could see the rest of his face.
"What are you doing?"
He buckles me into the seat. "This road is bumpy." He jumps in the driver's seat as Vanessa arrives.
Another man puts her down next to me, then buckles her in. We take off down the road as gunshots ring through the air.
The man who came with Vanessa tells us to get down and stands up with his gun aimed out the roof.
Vanessa and I huddle down, holding each other's hands and shaking.
We arrive at a camp, and Vanessa's guy removes her from the Jeep and takes her into a tent.
The guy who carried me reaches over my lap to release my belt, and his sexy scent once again fills the air.
It makes me uncomfortable. One thing I've learned is men are trouble, and nothing good can come of them. They only take what they want, and the last thing I need is another man in my life messing with my head.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Releasing your belt."
"I can do that myself," I snap.
He lets go of the buckle and stands back with his arms folded. "By all means, have at it."
In Spanish, I focus on the belt buckle and mutter, "At least you and your sexy self listened this time."
His face changes, but his googles make it hard to tell for sure what his expression means. Is it cocky? Annoyed? I can't decipher it.
I swing my legs to get out of the vehicle, and he places his hand under my calf, and little zings shoot up my leg.
"You're bleeding."
"Who's fault is that hot stud?" I say in Spanish.
He licks his lips then his lips twitch. "Let's get you inside the tent and cleaned up." He removes his goggles, hard hat, and chin strap.
Adrenaline rushes through my core and blood pounds between my ears.
I thought he was hot, but I underestimated him.
He's a rugged, delicious, don't blink because you'll miss a second of looking at him and that would be a sin, epitome of what a man should be.
His hazel eyes twinkle under the light of the moon. Dimples indent his chiseled cheeks. Dark hair and lush lips accent his perfect nose. A five-o'clock shadow of stubble looks good on him, but he could pull off a clean, shaven face, too.
"Well?" He arches an eyebrow. "Do you want to walk, or should I carry you? I don't want to get slapped again."
"Surely, I'm not the first girl to slap you," I say in English.
He grunts. "Actually, I've never had anyone slap me during a rescue mission before."
“I’m sure they slap you all the time outside of your ‘missions.’”
“Actually, most women love me.”
I’m sure they do.
I huff. "Maybe you shouldn't tell women you're going to muzzle them like a dog."
"That was after you slapped me. And not once but twice."
"Who are you delivering me to?"
His face falls. "I don't know yet."
My pulse increases. "What do you mean, you don't know?"
"We haven't gotten the instructions yet."
"Do you always rescue women and not have any idea where you're taking them or who's calling the shots?"
"Interpol is calling the shots."
I get out of the Jeep and push past him. In Spanish, I say, "God compromised your brain for good looks." The ground is mushy, and my heel gets stuck. "Crap."
He snickers, and I twist. In English, I accuse, "Really? You're going to laugh at me?"
In a quick move, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
I slap his ass to let me go.
Holy shit, his ass is solid.
I slap it again to double-check I felt it correctly the first time.
Yep. He's a scrumptious perfection of muscle.
It doesn't matter, Zoe.
“Stop kicking me,” he growls.
"Let me down!”
We get into the tent and he spins me over his shoulder so he’s holding me in front of his chest. In perfect Spanish, he says, "If there's anything I can do to make your stay a little cozier, let me know, my Little Diva."