Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

He gives me half a smile. “Just checking that you still have some brain cells left to think with. That woman pussy-whacked you good.”

This is my limit. I grind my teeth together so hard the sound reverberates in my skull. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of my sight.”

He raises his hands, still clutching the phone with the incriminating evidence. “I’m going.” Backtracking to the door, he says, “You better check her phone for whatever she handed over to the cops. Leon and I have a right to know. Our asses are on the line too.”

My thinly stretched self-control snaps. I slam a palm on the desk. “Get out.”

Shaking his head, he saunters through the door, not bothering to close it behind him. In the semi-privacy, I let the knowledge cut me up inside.

She was supposed to trust me.

I wanted to be that man.

Instead, I’ve been a fool.

Chapter 20

Cas

So many things happened today, it’s hard to process everything. The facts are a brain overload.

Wolfe killed Nick to frame Ian for murder.

Danai betrayed us.

I’m pregnant.

Shit.

I’m pregnant.

Danai will have to leave. We can’t trust her. I’m not sure how to orchestrate that without telling Ian the truth. Maybe I’ll blackmail her with her betrayal. If Ian finds out, he’ll expel her from the property anyway. I’m not sure what Ruben will do when he finds out she split on him. I have a feeling he’d rather kill her than exile her. Maybe that’s the angle I’ll use in convincing her to leave.

My head is crammed so full of shocking revelations and uncertain scenarios a headache throbs in my skull by the time I pull up at the lodge. A figure waits in front of the entrace. Already from the top of the road, I make out his build—tall, broad, dangerous, imposing.

Ian.

Despite the facts running through my mind, I focus every bit of my attention on him. Is he angry that I went to town alone? I try to read his reaction when I park, but his expression is neutral.

He steps forward when I cut the engine and opens my door. He locks his hands around my waist and lifts me to the ground. For a moment, he holds me tightly against his chest, his arms warm and comforting around me, and then he pushes away and brings his face down for a kiss. I meet him halfway. The kiss is tender and lingering. It’s soft and undemanding, but it nevertheless wakes the butterflies in my stomach and sends heat to my core.

After setting me carefully aside, he grabs the rifle from the back, throws the sling over his shoulder, and takes the heavy shopping bag. A quiet demeanor hangs around him. He seems so serious. Intense.

“How’s Shona?” I ask, following him inside.

“Resting at her bungalow. I had to kick her out of the kitchen and threaten her with forced leave if she returns before tomorrow.”

“What about Banga? Anything new?”

He stops in the reception hall to face me. “Stable. He’ll be home in a few days.”

I offer him a smile. “That’s great news.”

He returns the gesture tentatively, almost sadly. In contrast, his command is authoritative. “Go put on your bikini.”

I frown. “Why?”

“You’ll see,” he says, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Wait,” I call after him. “Let me first unpack the food.”

He doesn’t look back at me. “I’ll take care of it.”

When Ian orders me like that, I don’t argue. Maybe he’s upset that I left the property alone. Maybe he just needs reassurance that I’m not going anywhere, and his reassurance always involves sex.

As I still have my pistol strapped to my ankle, I don’t bother taking a rifle. I make the hike to his room and change into the bikini that was delivered with my new clothes. After applying sunblock and mosquito repellent, I fit a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and take a painkiller for my headache.

When Ian arrives with the Jeep, I’m ready. He comes inside to fetch me, wearing a pair of swimming trunks that exposes his powerful leg muscles. His chest is bare, the ebony Nyaminyami on the leather string his only adornment. The pendant is the embodiment of everything he represents—the god of the underworld, powerful and perfect. The sight of all that flawless, male hardness warms more than just my heart. I want to tell him, but now isn’t the moment. I’ll wait until we’re wherever he’s taking me to share the big news.

Giving me a once-over, he says, “Bring your bag.”

I want to ask why, but he’s already on his way out. I quickly sling the strap across my chest and follow him to the Jeep. I’m not sure what he has planned, but I trust him.

We drive in silence, heading toward the eastern side of the property. He parks at the jetty and helps me from the Jeep. I trudge behind as he makes his way to the jetty and gets into the boat. He offers me a hand to help me inside and makes sure I’m seated before he unties the boat and grabs the oars. Dragging the strap of my handbag over my head, I drop the bag by my feet and settle in more comfortably.