Stolen Love (Beauty in the Stolen 3)

I dip my head to catch her gaze again. “Do you want me to make him dead for you?”

“Ian!” She gives me a chastising look.

“Because I will.” I’m not joking.

“Cut it out.” She slaps my arm again. “Check your phone. Mint must be free by now. He must’ve called Wolfe.”

Reluctantly, I let the platinum curl slip from my finger. She’s right, of course. I do need to check the app, but we have time. I take my phone and unlock the screen. Instinct already tells me what the app confirms. Mint made the call. The app traced the call to Johannesburg. It doesn’t come as a surprise that Wolfe is lurking around Joburg looking for us. He’d be keeping tabs on Damian, hoping I’d show up there just as I had. The app planted a tracer on Wolfe’s phone, which verifies Wolfe hasn’t alerted any local authorities. He’s coming for us alone. As I expected, he’s not planning an arrest. If he’s coming alone, it’s because he’s planning on committing murder. Not if I get to him first.

The gravity of the situation I’m submitting Cas to sinks into my stomach. “Wolfe is in Joburg. It’ll take him about two hours to get here if he comes by car, which I’m putting my money on. He’s not spilling the beans about us. Government resources such as helicopters won’t be accessible to him.”

She nods, trying to hide her tension, but I don’t miss the little signs, like how she plays with the strings of the bag or saws her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Time to move.” I get out and come around to her side. When she opens the door, I take her hand to help her down. “Come here. Look.” I show her the truck’s key in my palm. Going down on my haunches, I leave it under the body of the truck on the top of the front tire. “If anything goes wrong, you take the truck and leave.” She’s already shaking her head before I’m done talking. “You have to promise me, Cas.”

She shakes her head more vehemently. “Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“No.” Straightening, I cup her cheek and give her the reassurance she needs. “Everything will be fine. Still, the key is here just in case.”

She stares at me with wide eyes, emotions awash in the hues of blue that bleed together like a summer sky on a crystal lake. She’s the blue of an ocean, the clear turquoise of a pool. Me, I’m the muddy brown of a river, the sins trapped at the bottom of a murky dam.

We’re locked in time, in a moment of truth. That’s what danger does. Facing the consequences of treacherous actions makes you look at things differently. Facing death makes you see things in perspective. For me, there’s only ever been one perspective. It’s the woman facing me. For her, it’s more complicated. A war wages in her pretty eyes as the truth plays over her face. She wants me, but she’s fighting it. She’s been fighting it even as she tried to seduce me on Christmas night.

I don’t take. I promised myself I wouldn’t unless she’s ready and willing to take the first step. I offer her my hand, waiting with an outstretched arm. A second ticks by. Another. Her fingers tighten around the velvet bag in her left hand. Ever so slowly, she raises her right hand and places her palm in mine. I close my fingers around hers, firmly but not too tightly. There. Safe and secure.

We don’t need words as we climb through the fence and walk back to the cabin. As long as our fingers are linked together, the moment is unbreakable and our connection intact.

Electricity zaps between us. It runs in the air and under my skin. I feel her like I feel my own heartbeat in my chest. I breathe her like I inhale the warm air. Inside the cabin, I lock the door without letting go of her hand. I’m too scared to break the connection, too terrified I’d lose the awareness balancing on a narrow ledge.

She leans against the wall next to the door, bending one leg and resting a foot on the bricks. Chewing her lip, she regards me from under the visor of her cap. What she wants is written in her eyes. Our intertwined fingers hang at our sides. Using my free hand, I take her cap off and drop it on the coffee table before gently brushing her hair from her face. She reaches up, takes off my cap, and dumps it next to hers. My hair falls over one side of my face, veiling her pretty features behind a curtain. She’s every bit the doll I first set eyes on, gorgeous and perfect in every way. I want her so much my balls ache, but the need in my heart is much greater. It hurts a hell of a lot more.