Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

When he gets to his feet, I hug him and burrow my face in his neck.

He frames my hips between his large hands and kisses me. “What’s that for?”

I smile. “Nothing.”

Picking up my panties, he holds them open for me. “I like your nothings.”

I use his shoulders for balance as I step into my underwear, no longer hurting when I put weight on my ankle. The injury has healed. I let him dress me, piece by piece, and brush back my hair with my hands as he pulls on his own clothes.

We’re back at the lodge before lunch. Tossing the Jeep’s key to Wataida, he tells him to use the motorbike and take Garai with him to fetch the Jeep. He sends me to the deck for a cool drink with a pat on the ass and summons Banga and Shona to the office.

I don’t want them to be in trouble because of me, but they know how to stand up for themselves. I use the opportunity to empty the washing machine I started before leaving this morning and hang the clothes on the line. Pegging my jeans next to Ian’s shirt feels strangely domestic, and, surprisingly, it’s not a bad feeling. He likes to set out my pills and feed me. I like to wash his clothes.

When I return with the washing basket, Ruben appears on the path. I try to make it to the kitchen without having to acknowledge him, but he intercepts me on the deck.

“Playing housewife?” he asks, shouldering me as he passes. “Don’t get too used to hanging around.”

I flip him the bird.

He stops and gives me an unfriendly grin, the kind that holds a warning. “You won’t last, little girl.”

My patience snaps. It’s not as if I begged to be here. “What’s your problem with me?”

He lowers his head, putting our faces too close for comfort. “I see through you. Unlike Ian, I’m not being led around by my dick.”

My cheeks flush hot from the insult. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know you’re going to fuck him over. It’s not a question of if. It’s only a question of when.”

“You seem to think you’ve got me all figured out.”

“Oh.” His grin stretches. “I do.” With a sneer, he walks into the dining room and heads toward the bar.

I’m not safe with Ruben. Leon hates my guts, but he doesn’t look at me like he wants to slit my throat. It only makes me more determined to get ammunition against Ruben, something I can use to protect myself. Ian isn’t always around. I can’t rely on him to look out for me. Besides, the last thing I want to do is turn into a tattletale and cause a rift between the guys. They’re close. They need each other. They need to trust each other for the dangerous work they do. If I’m to survive in Ian’s world, I’m going to have to learn to take care of myself.

Shona comes out of the office. She pauses when she sees me before continuing to the kitchen.

I follow with the basket. “I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.”

“The idea to have lunch at the village was mine.”

“You did it to be kind. I don’t want Ian to blame you for that.”

“He understands.” She gives me a conspiratorial smile. “Sometimes, it takes a woman to make a man see things from a woman’s point of view. I’m going to the market after lunch. Want to come?”

Butterflies of excitement flutter in my chest. “Really? Ian agreed?”

“It also takes a woman to understand one. What do men know? Ian will just have to trust me.”

I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet. “What time should I be ready?”

“We’ll leave at three.” She winks. “You can drive.”

I nearly burst out of my skin.

“I’m giving you my trust, Cas. Don’t prove to Ian I was wrong or else he won’t trust either of us again. Ian doesn’t give second chances, and neither do I.”

I bite my lip as I consider that. He let me run once. I have no doubt he won’t let me do it twice. Next time, I’d be locked into his room.

At three, I’m ready and waiting in the reception hall. Ian walks me out to make sure Banga, who’s escorting us, is armed with a pistol. Ian kisses me like it’s goodbye forever before letting me climb into the Jeep with Shona and Banga. As promised, I drive.

Shona directs me to an open-air market under a thatched lapa on the outskirts of town. Banga carries the basket while Shona selects apples, avocados, mangos, and oranges. I tag along and stop at a crafts stall to admire the jewelry. A delicately carved wooden charm of the Zambezi river god, Nyaminyami, catches my attention.

I lift the leather string of the necklace to admire the craftmanship. The ebony color of the wood is almost black. The river god looks a lot like a sea monster with the head of a fish and the body of a snake coiled like a cone. The coiled part represents a whirlpool.