“It depends,” Britt said, shifting in her seat to stare at Lachlan.
“On?”
“Were you going to tell me why we moved to Dove Island?” Britt asked, heart pounding in her chest. “I remember the house on Nova Lane. I lived there, and it had to be with you. But I don’t know why we left or how that’s connected with the island feds or the car bomb.”
“It’s complicated,” Lachlan said, his hands moving effortlessly over the controls to start their descent toward the lush mountainous island coming into view through the clouds. “Those are memories you should remember on your own, when you’re ready to remember them. I’m not going to tell you something that could set you back?—”
“I’m not fragile, Lachlan. I can handle it,” Britt insisted.
“If you could handle it, you’d already fucking remember,” Lachlan snapped. “Don’t forget you spent the last year with that fucker forcing facts about your life into your head. Howdid learning about your life that way work out for you? You still don’t remember me. You don’t remember us. I’m not going to push you by dumping more memories on you. I’m already fucking up by keeping you with me and Paloma. I can’t take a chance that I’ll do something that will make you shut down.”
“Okay, okay,” Britt said, reaching over to grab his hand. She pulled it to her, kissing his knuckles softly. “I’m sorry. I forget this is as hard for you as it is for me.”
“Don’t do that. Nothing I’ve been through compares to what they did to you,” Lachlan said, running a hand through her hair. His voice dipped lower, tinged with a deadliness that whispered of the lengths he’d go to keep her safe. “I promise ye, I’ll make them pay for every second of your life they stole.”
Britt nodded, then unhooked her seatbelt to lean over to him. She draped her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses. He turned and claimed her lips with a hunger that stole her breath. Their kiss was fierce, hungry. A collision of need and desperation to make up for all the lost time. His tongue swept against hers, the sweet taste of mint lingering in his mouth as the kiss deepened. He gripped her waist with his free hand. She melted into him despite the awkward angle across the cockpit. Her arms tightened around his neck, holding him close as a fear that she might forget him again gripped her. Heat flooded her core. She wanted more, craved more, needed more—but the plane dipped slightly, reminding her where they were.
Three words lingered on her lips, but she stopped herself from saying them. It wasn’t fair for her to tell him. Not yet. Not until she knew for sure that she was Brittany Freeman. That the feelings for him were real and hers.
Instead, she mumbled an apology.
“Don’t be,” Lachlan said, eyes burning with desire that made butterflies take flight within her. “I can land this thing with my eyes closed.”
“You can prove that to me another time,” she joked. Kissing his temple one last time, she hopped back to her seat and buckled the seatbelt. She watched his profile as he focused on the approach, strong jaw set in concentration. The passion between them crackled like lightning as the jet descended through wispy clouds. St. Basil emerged beneath them—a crescent moon-shaped lush jewel ringed with pristine beaches and dotted with exclusive resorts. The Basil Mountains jutted toward them, covered in dense vegetation. Another place from her past she couldn’t recall.
The landing was smooth as silk, the wheels kissing the tarmac with barely a bump. Waiting for them was a sleek black SUV.
Lachlan opened the door, helped her inside, and then rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side. He got in, pulled a box from under the seat, and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” Britt fumbled with the package before opening it.
“Gift from Bobby,” Lachlan said. “Everything you’ll need to hear my conversation with Hunter … as you wait inside the SUV for me to return.”
“You said I could come with you.” Her voice rose with indignation as she glared at him, fighting to control her temper.
“To the island. Not to the meeting.” Lachlan’s tone warned her not to push.
She ran a hand through her hair and forced herself to calm down. He was only trying to protect her, and with the contents of the box—an encrypted comms unit, a wireless earpiece, a burner phone, and a Beretta M9—she wouldn’t miss anything. She lifted the weapon, marveling at how familiar it felt in her hand. “Is this necessary?”
“I hope not,” Lachlan said, cranking the engine. “Don’t worry, you’ll remember how to use it if it comes to that.”
Her days of doubting Lachlan were in the past. She placed the gun back into the box. “Has Hunter texted the meeting location?”
As if on cue, Lachlan’s cell phone chimed. He glanced down at the device. “The Bluffs. Meadows Weep Hiking Trail in one hour.”
Chapter 32
The location was too remote for Lachlan’s liking.
As he descended the narrow dirt path that dropped steeply between moss-covered rocks, weaving deeper into the dense, humid jungle filled with towering palms and vibrant tropical foliage, he stopped to look behind him every few minutes. He didn’t put it past Britt to sneak down the trail after him. That’s what she’d do if she had all her memories. She wouldn’t have been satisfied, hiding in the vehicle’s third row, forced to listen to his conversation with Hunter Quaid over comms.
Hunter Quaid, who’d sparked a memory in Britt. A memory she’d conveniently dodged sharing with him despite his attempts to get her to open up. The name hadn’t triggered any memories of his own, not that Britt had shared much about her previous relationships with him. Lachlan hated to think that this man could be another one of Britt’s exes, like Alejandro Cerundolo. But he couldn’t jump to conclusions, especially since he needed information from the man. It would be easier to get it if he wasn’t irritated by the thought of him being a rival for Britt’s affections. Lachlan knew the truth. He had no rivals. Britt was his and had been from the moment he pulled her from the tepid waters of the Caribbean Sea seven years ago.
Stepping over gnarled tree roots and fallen palm fronds, Lachlan understood why Hunter chose the location. The dense copse of tangled jungle trees, blustering winds, and crashing waves against the cliffs made the perfect spot for an exchange that required complete isolation. The winding trail took him further into the bowels of the jungle, swallowing him whole until he could no longer see the path back to the SUV.
Checking his watch and adjusting his earpiece, Lachlan reminded himself that he didn’t need to worry about Britt. He’d left her with a weapon and a burner phone programmed to call Bobby at the touch of any button. Bobby lived in the affluent neighborhood of The Bluffs with his wife, Remi Spade. At any sign of danger, Bobby could be at the trailhead in less than five minutes. Backup wasn’t just close by. Bobby was listening to the comms with Britt, recording the details for the team to review later.
Lachlan had the hard part—convincing a former ride-or-die Quattro enforcer to help him get a meeting with Alejandro Cerundolo.
