As if he was attuned to her, Trees suddenly turned. His stare zeroed in on her, swallowing her whole in a glance.
Her heart, her breaths, her thoughts all stopped. She felt pinned in place, as if he saw right through her disguise.
No, that was her paranoia. Trees couldn’t possibly know it was her. She wore different clothes and shoes. She had donned sunglasses and a hat. At most, he would think she was a stranger who looked like her. But the longer she returned his stare, the more suspicious he would be. She needed to act like a local out for an evening walk.
On shaking legs, she pivoted away and headed back toward Gustavo’s garage. Her heart roared in her ears, threatening to beat out of her chest, as she lifted her sunglasses higher onto her nose, then adjusted her hat in the breeze. She prayed she looked as if she didn’t have a care, because she could hardly breathe past her apprehension.
Trees couldn’t stay in this village. Ugly things would happen. The consequences would be too terrible.
Then she remembered that Victor was heading this way. And if he saw Trees… Well, there was no way Victor had forgotten the man who had blown his brother’s head off mere days ago.
Dios mío.
Trembling, Laila glanced over her shoulder, hoping Trees had looked past her. But he was charging straight for her on those ridiculously long legs.
Panic hit her. If she turned back to him, he would know it was her. If she continued forward, she would lead him into danger. On either side of the street, she saw nothing but houses closed up for afternoon siestas.
She had nowhere to go—and she had to act fast.
But was there really a choice? Trees had to come first.
She turned around, determined to prevent Victor from spotting him during his drive into town and deciding it was a fabulous time for revenge. Trees was already on her. She ran into his chest with a gasp.
“Laila.” He plucked the sunglasses from her face as the wind blew her hat away.
She was too ensnared by his nearness to protest.
He looked more intense and even more manly than she remembered. And more beloved. He cupped her shoulders, fastening his stare on her, his green eyes so sharp and full of concern. Laila froze. Every nerve stood on end. Heat sizzled everywhere he touched her. She’d missed him far more than she wanted to admit and ached to press herself against him, to throw herself into his arms and give herself completely to him.
But that was her emotion talking. She couldn’t let her feelings rule her. They weren’t real. The coming danger was. “You shouldn’t be here. Go. Please. Return to Louisiana. Do not look for me again.”
“I’m not leaving without you. Tell me what happened. Why did you take off? You could have stayed in the panic room and been safe.”
She couldn’t waste time explaining that Victor had threatened to burn his house down. It was more important to persuade him to leave this town and this country—and her—behind.
“I did not want to be safe. I wanted to be free. Let me go.”
“Whatever you’re doing here, whatever reason you had for walking out, I know it had something to do with keeping your family safe. Ensuring that isn’t your job; it’s mine. I’m going to make sure you, your sister, and your nephew are protected. All you have to do is tell me what’s going on.”
No wonder she’d been falling for this man. He was noble and watchful. Kind and heroic. And she hadn’t believed in him until it was too late.
You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone…
And like a fool, she’d spent so much of her time with him scheming to escape. She had only ever let herself believe in him for a few moments in the dark, in secret, when he’d made love to her after killing Hector. For that one night, she had closed her eyes, pretended to be a woman without a violent past, and given herself to Trees completely.
Laila shook her head. “There is nothing to tell. I do not want you here. Go and leave me be.”
“Trees?” the other man in the cowboy hat called with a bob of his head up the street.
On the corner, Gustavo stood, watching their every move.
Laila tried not to panic, but the mechanic would call Victor, who was likely already on his way. There would be violence, and since not many men were as tall as Trees, Victor would know immediately who had come to town and why.
Before she could wriggle away, Trees plucked her off the ground. As if she weighed nothing, he carried her between the nearest two houses, ignoring her struggles, until they were out of Gustavo’s sight.
He pushed her against the wall, palms beside her head, caging her in. “I will never leave you. I will never stop coming for you. So tell me why you went with Victor, let me fix it, then I’ll take you home, Laila. And I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”
His words wrenched her heart. There was nothing she wanted more than to throw herself against him, arms and legs clinging, as she lost herself in him and pretended danger didn’t exist.
Impossible.
Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but she wasn’t quick enough. As one rolled down her cheek, she bit her lip to hold in a sob and tried to wrench away before he saw her weakness.
Too late.
“Laila.” His rough voice caressed her. He cradled her head in his massive hands, fingers thrusting into her hair. “Little one…”
She was powerless to stop him when he surged forward and covered her with his big body, plastering her against the wall. He captured her lips with his and swallowed her whimper as she opened helplessly to him, welcoming the press of his mouth and the drive of his tongue. She clung to him. As she drowned in his kiss, she dug her nails into his shoulders, silently begging for more, as she writhed to get even closer. For one selfish moment, she ignored everything, fearing that now would have to last her for the rest of her life.
Trees groaned as he plunged deeper. The sound reverberated through her body. Time stood still. Everywhere he touched her, he seared her. And she welcomed it. Even if the sun was hotter in Mexico, this was the first time she’d felt warm since Trees had left for his mission two and a half endless days ago. Laila basked in him, breathed with him, welcomed the blistering heat of him.
If she hadn’t been sure how she felt about Trees before, now it was clear. She loved him. Granted, she had nothing to compare these feelings to. She’d always loved crisp morning breezes in spring, vanilla in fresh-baked cookies, and sea foam on the sand. But this was so much stronger. She loved him as completely as she loved Valeria or Jorge, but this love came with a passion that was unlike anything she knew. She didn’t have words to describe it, but having felt it, having acknowledged it, she knew she would never be the same.
Together, they panted and clung. Trees dragged his hands down her back until he cupped her backside and lifted her. She couldn’t stop herself from spreading her legs and welcoming him in between, wrapping her arms around him tighter, and, since she could never speak the words aloud, telling Trees she loved him with her kiss.
He yanked away and stared into her eyes, breaths rough. “Come back with me.”
Laila was so tempted. Some part of her wanted to rail that stopping the cartels wasn’t her responsibility, that she had already suffered at the hands of Tierra Caliente. Why should she now have to rip out her heart and play the hero? It wasn’t fair. Unfortunately, life wasn’t. If she wanted safety and justice for her family, there was a price. To protect Valeria and Jorge, the cost would be her heart.
“I cannot.” She pushed him away. “You have to go.”
“Goddamn it, Laila. Tell me what the fuck is going on. I’ll—”
“Buddy, there’s a truck coming. It looks like the one Trevor and Ghost said they spotted before it disappeared across the border,” the cowboy said, standing less than a dozen feet from them, blocking the view of anyone on the street.
Terror chilled Laila’s veins. Victor was here. Gustavo would fill him in. Then all hell would break loose. “Go. Please. Now. Don’t let Victor see you.”
“Where is that son of a bitch?” Trees craned his head around to scan the street, all while covering her with his body.
If they had more time and if she wasn’t convinced that Trees would put himself in danger to save her, she would have spilled everything to him—why she’d left, what her plans were, how she saw this nightmare ending. She might also make promises to return to his life, his arms, and his bed. But if she said any of those things, he would not only risk himself, he would do it full-throttle, holding nothing back, until the cartel put him in the ground. If Victor couldn’t find the smarts or the guts to kill Trees, Montilla would. Emilo’s ruthless father definitely had the resources and the cojones to get it done.
“Do not do this. Please. Leave it alone.”
Trees turned back to her with a scowl. He wasn’t going to let her go, despite her pleading, despite the cowboy telling him danger was approaching. “Like hell. Why did you help Ramos steal Montilla’s Ferrari?”
She would have to make him want to leave.