Dios mio, he didn't care if she lived or died. Any tender feelings he may have once harbored in his twisted mind were gone now. She was nothing more than a traitor, a pawn to him and she knew full well what happened to traitors in his world.
She blinked through her shock—and saw him circle to face her, gun leveled at her chest.
No! Not yet. She wasn't ready. She needed to tell Lucas how much she loved him.
Shock stunned her still. Wasn't Ramon going to wait? This didn't make sense.
The scars on her body throbbed a reminder of bullets tearing through her flesh. The blinding pain that would come afterward. The sensation of her blood pumping free until the world went blurry except for Lucas's face over her, his voice all around her.
Ramon's gun rose higher, his actions silhouetted in shadow as she started toward him, the miner light glaring back at her. Higher? Over her head.
The butt rammed forward against her head.
Her world went fuzzy, except this time she saw only Ramon's face, heard his voice. "You thought you were so smart. But I will not trust that any woman is weak again."
She braced a hand on the moist muddy wall. Slippery. With her blood? No. Wet with humidity.
As she slid to the ground she saw two men, the second dressed in camouflage like Ramon. Or was that only Ramon? And if so, which one? If she chose wrong, her arm would slice through the image as easily as through a bubble.
But she had to try.
She struggled to lurch to her feet, but her body wouldn't obey and she collapsed to her knees.
Ramon knelt in front of her, his gun in her face. "Do not make me use this again to subdue you."
He tucked his shoulder in her stomach and hefted her up. Blood rushed to her head, the ground swaying.
Then he walked.
Sara stifled a groan at each jarring step, battling waves of nausea. Now wasn't the time to fight, not while Ramon had his weapon so close and her head was swimming with vertigo. With Lucas and Lucia counting on her, she couldn't afford to be impetuous and waste a precious opportunity.
Because she wouldn't leave Lucas, her husband, her love, alone ever again. Even as consciousness faded, she vowed that unlike five years ago on the embassy lawn, this time she would get it right....
"Why the hell won't you marry me?" Lucas demanded.
She blew a stream of bubbles to give herself a chance to think, exhaling slowly to keep from hyperventilating. Keep from flinging her arms around his neck and shouting that of course she would marry him, even though he offered for the least romantic of reasons...
Today's reason? To make her a citizen of the United States so they could take her orphaned brother out of the country before Tio Ramon assumed custody. No one married for those sorts of reasons anymore, did they? This wasn't a century ago when arranged marriages were the norm. Her own emotions were in such a turmoil, grief from losing her father still so fresh. Mixed with that grief was guilt over all her resentment of her papa's overprotective ways. She was definitely in no condition to make permanent decisions.
Besides, she wanted Lucas to love her as much as she loved him. She wanted him to live and breathe to be with her—as she felt for him. Only while making love did he shake off restraints and she thought maybe, just maybe... But then perhaps all men behaved that way during sex. What did she know?
She did know, however, that time was running out. Her period was late. Only a couple of days, but enough for a regular-cycle person to sweat. These next few weeks would set the course for their relationship for the rest of their lives.
"I didn't say I wouldn't marry you. Only that I wouldn't marry you because you were my first lover. And not because you were having an amazing finish during sex which led you to say something in the heat of the moment. And not because my brother needs to go to the United States."
"So what would make you marry me?" He gripped the stone bench until his knuckles went white.
"If you don't know or feel it, then what's the use in my telling you?" She set aside her bubble wand so he wouldn't see her hands shake.
"You want me to say I love you? Well fine, Sarafina. I love you."
He barked the admission with so much frustration she resisted the urge to dump the whole container of bubbles on his head. But she also couldn't resist the urge to stay and listen.
His chest pumped. "I can't think of anyone else but you. It's a struggle to concentrate on work. You've turned my world upside down. It's not a feeling I particularly enjoy and I can't imagine living my entire life this way." He let go of the stone bench long enough to bury his hand in her hair and cup her neck. "I can't imagine living my life without you, either."
"Oh." Her anger melted along with almost all of her reservations. Perhaps she could forget about the rest.
"That was good?"