“And that’s where you’re so wrong.”
He moved another half step closer, and his chest touched her breasts. Their eyes locked, and then his mouth dropped to hers. The kiss was sweet. Soft. She wanted more, so much more. But now was not the time.
When they broke apart, her tongue tipped out to swipe her bottom lip, as if tasting the remnants of his kiss. “We should keep moving.”
Stepping back from her, he nodded, but he slid his grip from her wrist down to her hand so he could lace their fingers together. “No dodging the subject, Glennon. Most people would not have done what you did. I was ready to walk right past her. I’d be willing to bet no one has talked to her in days, although I’m sure they know she’s there.”
He wasn’t wrong. Here, it was every person for themself. If anyone thought they could take what little she had and sell it, nothing would stop them. Hopefully, now that she had some money, she’d move on quickly.
They continued through the vegetation for two hours, skirting the river where the boats would depart for the gulf and take travelers to the traditional start of their foot trek. Crossing the river at the camp would have put them too far out in the open, but now they had no choice. At least here, the water was only knee-deep. Stepping onto the bank, they opened their water jugs to take a few small sips. Both of them were sweating profusely in the jungle humidity, and dehydration could strike quickly. It was one of the major killers of those who traversed the gap.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stood at the water’s edge.
“Tired,” she replied honestly. “A little sore.”
He urged her to sit on the edge of the bank. “Let’s stop for a few minutes. This is a lot of activity for someone who’s been pretty much bedridden for the last week. Frankly, I don’t know how you’re still standing.”
“No choice but to keep moving.”
They sat and rested, watching the water move on its path.
He had his tablet out. He didn’t have any service, obviously, but he’d taken a screenshot of the map he’d been looking at of their proposed path through the gap and made it the background screen so they could still use it.
He showed it to her. “Aerial views showed farmland in maybe a few hours’ walk. Research says we should be able to get more water there because they sell it from their wells.”
“You still have cash?”
“Enough,” he said vaguely.
Squinting, she studied his nonchalant response. “Just how much did you bring with you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
“When we met up at the hotel, I had just short of fifty grand on me.”
She blinked at him.
“What?” he asked. “I had no clue what we were going into. I wanted to make sure I had more than enough.”
What the fuck? “Triumph, who has fifty grand they can just grab and go with?”
“Other than my membership to Shadowlands, I don’t have many expenses. I basically live at our clubs, so I eat and drink there for free. Own my apartment, so no rent, and because I’m never there, utilities are next to nothing. Just my cycles and me.”
“The NSA paid that well?”
He laughed freely at that. “You had the best of the best, sweetheart. Yeah, they paid me well. But honestly, the clubs are where I made my money.”
“How much?” Oh good grief. “Sorry! That was rude. That question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. How much money you make doesn’t matter to me. I lived in luxury beyond my wildest imaginings with Guillermo, and it didn’t guarantee security or love. Hell, it didn’t guarantee kindness. This is more…”
“Surprise?”
“Yes. Are nightclubs really that big of moneymakers?”
“Ours are. Tripoli pays to keep our financials out of the news, but we’re the top earners in the nation. That man has a steel trap of a brain for business. Even I’m amazed. Whatever magic he created, our waiting lists for membership are really long. Maybe not thirty years, like that football team for season tickets in Wisconsin, but it’s long.”
“Okay, so inappropriate as this is, I’ll ask again. How much?”
