“What is it?” She inched closer, her long lashes hooding the curiosity in her eyes.
“I had a camera installed in the shack.”
She erased the distance in three running strides and snatched the phone from his hand.
Arturo had placed the solar-powered recording device on the roof and angled the lens through a hole to capture the interior. Tate didn’t know it was there, and no one would spot it from the outside.
“Oh my God.” She clutched her throat, eyes wide and glued on the live streaming video. “That’s Boones. How is he with Tate?” Her gaze snapped up and landed on his, the depths clashing with relief and accusation. “Tate must be close by.”
“Within walking distance. Come here.” He leaned against the wall, stretched out his legs, and opened his arms.
She came right to him, somewhat absentmindedly as the video held all her attention.
Gathering her on his lap, he tucked her back against his chest. With a hand stroking through her hair, he watched her watch the live footage.
“That’s where Boones goes every day.” She pulled in a serrated breath and released it. “He’s been taking care of Tate.”
“Yes.”
On the screen, Boones knelt behind her friend and applied a balm to the man’s back. He would do the same with the arm injury, the new tattoo, and check for any health issues.
“This is so much better than I’ve been imagining.” Her fingers tightened around the phone. “It’s still horrible and inhumane, but knowing he has Boones, that he’s so close, it means everything.”
“I installed the camera so you can check on him. Before we leave for Caracas, I’ll take you to see him.”
“What?” She spun on his lap to face him, dropping the phone in her excitement. “Really?”
“I can take it away just as quickly as I’ve given it.” He locked the device and set it aside. “Remember that.”
She looked up into his face and adjusted her legs to straddle him, to stare a little closer, a little deeper, with a strange tumult of emotions flitting across her expression.
“You tortured my friend and chained him in a shack for two months. I can’t forgive you for that. But…” She swallowed, breathed in slowly through her nose, and placed her soft hands on his jaw. “It’s funny how you throw me a few scraps, a video, a chance to visit him, and follow it up with a mean threat, and all I can think is… Here’s a glimpse, a tiny peek of goodness. This is the moment when I don’t see the fearsome, ruthless gang leader you created twelve years ago. I see you, the man who mourns his wife and family. The man I want to know. The man I want to kiss.”
Erratic and unstable, his pulse careened through his veins. “I’m not a good man, Kate.”
“No, you’re definitely not that. But you’re not the one-dimensional creation you show the world, either.”
“I believe your exact words were pure evil.”
“I was angry.”
“And now?”
“I’m moved.”
She leaned in slowly and skimmed her fingers into his hair. A puff of breath. A gentle brush of lips. Everything inside him clenched and locked.
It was the first time she initiated intimacy, and the kiss was so delicate it shivered with fragility. It took every bit of strength he could muster to stop his hands from flying to her head, to stall his tongue from sweeping in and taking over.
She was such a sexual creature she couldn’t breathe without radiating the sizzling, ignitable energy that lived beneath her skin. His entire body recognized it, fed on it. But he wrestled down the need to control this and closed his eyes, savoring the tenderness, the exquisite affection.
The peaks of her supple, braless tits dragged against his chest. The heat of her cunt burned against his cock through their clothing. Her tongue found his with licking, curling, divine sweetness, and perspiration formed on his spine. She was killing him.
Then she grew bolder. Her hands wrapped around the base of his skull, bringing him closer, angling his head for a deeper kiss. Her tongue slid over his, tasting, exploring as she panted against his mouth.
It was the most exhilarating, most sensual kiss he’d ever experienced. All his senses telescoped to her lips, her soft, wet tongue, and the maddening way she tunneled her fingers through his hair.
She transported him into a fantastic dream and smothered him in layers of emotion. She didn’t just kiss with her body. She fused to his mouth with her whole being, all tongue and breath and deep, swirling feelings.
When she broke for air, her fingers clung to his neck, pupils blown, and lips swollen. For a moment, she seemed disoriented, stunned. Then she blinked, and her expression glowed with wonderment. Maybe even fondness.
“I like you like this.” She stroked a thumb along his bottom lip. “Kind and unassuming.”