The Isle Of Sin And Shadows - Keri Lake Page 0,151

edge of it beneath where the moon sits high in the sky. Not quite full, but bright enough that we don’t need a flashlight to see.

“I think this was the best day of my life.” Head tipped back, she smiles, looking up toward the moon. “Can’t remember the last time I laughed this much.”

“Luc knows how to pass a good time.”

“It’s not just Luc. It’s this place. It’s everything. Feels like being home again. I’ve forgotten what that feels like.”

It hasn’t been home to me for a long time, but even I can’t deny the nostalgia of this afternoon. Feelings I’ve had to tuck away for a long time just to deal with the shit-show my life has become over the years.

The call from Julio was, I suspect, a test. A means to feel out whether, or not, I have the girl, and to separate me from her. The job itself is fairly simple, if not rife with danger. Apparently, tensions between the cartels is at an all-time high right now, and as a result, some prominent figures and kidnappings have been going down in Mexico. In an effort to keep the capo’s daughter safe, I’m to pick her, Verónica, up as she comes in from Matamoros, and bring her to Julio’s, where she’ll be guarded around the clock until things settle. The transport has been kept low-key, and Julio doesn’t want to draw attention by sending an entourage to fetch her. But she’s a target, nonetheless.

And the less Céleste knows, the better.

The smile on her face fades. “This isn’t my home, though, is it? How can anywhere be home, when you don’t actually exist to the world? Here, I’m nothing but a girl caught on camera at a crime scene. A ghost story, and nothing more.”

“Non, you’re more than that, chère.” Curling my palm around her neck, I draw her to me, tangling my fingers in her soft curls and losing myself in her kiss. “You’re my favorite ghost story,” I whisper against her lips.

I strip her down naked and lie back, letting her ride my dick, use me, watching her head tip back, her lip slide between her teeth, with the backdrop of the moon and stars. Warm fluids leak down my thighs as she brings herself to climax while wearing the blush of satisfaction. I reach out to cup her cheek, and something aches inside my chest. A gnawing, twisting pain, like a steel blade winding through flesh. At first, I think it’s a heart attack coming on, and wouldn’t that be fitting, but it isn’t.

It’s her.

So fucking beautiful, it hurts.

La lune. Les étoiles. Ma Céleste.

The moon. The stars. My Céleste.

It’s here, in this moment, that a ludicrous thought enters my mind, and I realize what lengths I would go to, to keep her.

I would take on the most dangerous cartel in Mexico for this woman.

39

Céleste

The smell of sausage, along with sizzles and popping sounds, rouse me out of dreams. Pushing up onto an elbow, I rub the sleep from my eyes, and find Luc standing with his broad back to me, wearing only a pair of shorts, and his ball cap turned around.

Sending a quick glance over his shoulder, he winks. “Mornin’ sleepy! How’s some breakfast sound?”

The clock beside me shows it’s seven-thirty in the morning. Thierry must’ve left super early. Only a vague recollection of him planting a quick kiss to my cheek, before slipping out the door, gives me that impression, otherwise, it could’ve easily been a dream.

While the couch is certainly better than most places I’ve slept in my life--and with the fresh sheets and pillows, it was even comfortable--it was nowhere near as luxurious as the bed I’ve slept in for the last week and a half. With a groan, I fall back onto the pillow and bury my face in the cotton. “It’s too early for breakfast, Luc. Especially your monster sandwiches.”

“You gon’ sleep half da day away, chère.”

“Not half. Just … a quarter maybe.”

“Thought I could take you on a boat ride today. Round da swamp. Show you my favorite fishin’ spots.”

“Didn’t we do that yesterday?”

“Das crawfishin’. We ain’t done sac-à-lait yet.”

“That’s a fish? I thought it was some kind of race.”

Chuckling, he strides toward me, presenting one of his heavy, albeit delicious as sin, sandwiches. “Le déjeuner!”

“Be honest, do you lace these things with crack? You can tell me. I won’t spill any of your secrets.”

“No crack. But dere might be a pinch more garlic and butter. Cannot skip