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It’s hot, so bloody hot.
In fact, I would say molten lava doesn’t get this fucking hot. I am waiting in line outside the custom office on the Columbia side of the dock to get off the ship, and I am sweating like a pig.
Oh dear God, just let me get out of here alive. If they find the diamonds on me, I’m dead. They probably just shoot people on the docks here.
No questions will be asked and even he won’t protect me, I know that for sure.
I count the people in front of us. One, two, three… Ten, there are ten that are in front and another eight have gone through already. Everyone is super keen to get on dry land, so it seems.
I watch the cement ground underneath us, petrified to make eye contact with anyone in case they can tell I’m lying… or stealing, or whatever the hell this is.
There is a woman and two men checking passports and they seem to know everyone as they chat and laugh happily with the crew as they walk through.
Stace squeezes my hand that is nestled tightly within his and he bends and kisses my cheek. “Will you relax?”
I fake a smile and nod.
He slings his arm around my shoulders casually. “What do you want to do today, baby?” he asks in a loud voice so others can hear.
I force a fake smile. “I don’t know. I have never been here before I am so excited. When do we have to be back on the ship?” I reply.
“We leave port at 6pm tomorrow night.”
“So we are staying in Columbia overnight?” I frown.
He nods and winks, unleashing his cheeky, boyish grin.
Huh? Is he telling me this so that they can hear or is he telling me this because he wants me to know?
I just want to get out of here with my diamonds. The sweat runs down between my breasts. “It’s so fucking hot,” I whisper in annoyance. “I can’t handle this shit.”
He raises his eyebrow sexily. “Who are you kidding? You invented hot.”
I smirk and drop my head as my heart flutters in my chest. Stop it. Stop being so damn likable, asshole.
Our turn finally comes, and Stace takes the reins and hands over both of our passports. “How many ships have you done in the last few days?” he asks as a distraction.
The two men reply with something. I don’t know what they are saying because all I can hear is my thieving heart trying to escape from my chest. The guy looks at our two passports and smiles and hands them back before waving us through the turnstile.
Oh my God.
I’m through.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from breaking into a broad smile.
Stace ushers me into a waiting cab and then surprisingly climbs in behind me. Huh?
The driver turns. “Where to?”
“Bogota,” Stace replies. “Bog Hotel.”
My eyes widen. “Bog Hotel?” I ask. “Are you joking?”
He smiles with a shake of his head. “It’s nice. Trust me.”
I nod and think for a minute. “Are we dropping you somewhere first?”
