Lachlan’s eyes grew wide. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You haven’t filled me in on the man who came over last night. And I want an update on the plans to trick Alejandro?—”
“I’m taking care of all of that.”
“You know that’s not good enough for me. I want details.”
“You sure you haven’t gotten all your memories back?” He frowned.
She swatted at his broad shoulder, then said. “Tell me, or I’m going to worry. And when I worry …”
“You take matters into your own hands, for better or worse.”
“That’s something I remember about myself, even if I don’t quite know what I’ve done in the past that worked or was disastrous.”
Lachlan took a deep breath. “The visitor from last night was Wesley Thomas, a PISCO leading the task force looking into the murder of Titus Freeman.”
“And what does any of that have to do with you?”
“Apparently, in gathering intel, they’ve discovered the same information that Hunter Quaid has—Alejandro Cerundolo wants to find me. Wesley wanted to know why.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. Pretended like I was clueless, which he didn’t believe. But it doesn’t matter.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we got intel today that will satisfy Alejandro but not put the Palmchat Islands government at a disadvantage,” Lachlan said, his arms wrapping tighter around her. “I’ll be meeting with him tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Britt shrieked. “That’s … soon.” Her heart pounded.
“The sooner I do this, the sooner you’re not in danger anymore, and we can live our lives without the threat of Quattro looming over us.”
She nodded, but something inside told her it wouldn’t be that simple.
Chapter 39
Britt was too quiet.
Lachlan settled deeper onto the daybed, one ankle resting over his knee. The scent of salt and night-blooming jasmine drifted on the breeze. A cold Felipe beer sweated in his grip. He took a long pull on the bottle as he stared at her, wondering what was going through that beautiful head of hers.
She curled her bare feet underneath her, staring down the cliffside at the moonlight dancing across the Caribbean waters. Gentle waves lapped rhythmically against the shore, a soft percussion accompanied by the nighttime symphony of tropical insects and distant tree frogs.
He should’ve dodged her question. If he had, they’d be making love under the moonlight right now instead of sitting in tense silence. Despite everything they’d been through, he still hadn’t learned. Sometimes, it was better to keep things from Britt for her own good. This was one of those times, but damn if he couldn’t force himself to hold back from her. He loved and respected her too much to do that, even if it was likely a better move. Filling her in on every detail of Stingray’s plan to get him in and out of a meeting with Alejandro had been too much for her.
“What are you thinking?” Lachlan asked, desperate to break the uncomfortable silence.
“I’m not upset with you if that’s what you’re wondering,” Her voice carried a wistfulness that tugged at something deep in Lachlan's chest. She turned to look at him. The pure devotion reflected in her dark brown gaze soothed his angst. “I know you’re doing everything you can to protect me.”
“But you’re worried.” Lachlan reached for a strand of her hair, twisting it around his finger.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Lachlan laughed, then pressed his forehead against hers. “You won’t. I just got you back. I’m not fucking that up by getting myself killed.”
“You better not,” Britt said as she grabbed his beer bottle and took a sip. She exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing as she tilted her head toward the sky. “All of this could be over in two days. We could actually have a normal life. Well, as normal as being with a woman who’s lost most of her memories can be.”
He reached for her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "I want that for us. For Paloma. A real shot at normal."
