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And I doubt it.
Right now, I’m working out a strategy to get the information about this shipment of women so I can help them. I’m also wondering where best to hunker down for the day out of sight of Pablo's foot soldiers.
All while ignoring the constant semi in my pants.
I’m not blind to the way Isabelle has been staring at me appreciably, and I’m dying to taste her again.
I don’t know how long it will take us to get back to the U.S. That will depend on how aggressive Pablo’s response is to me taking Isabelle and becoming a traitor.
He’ll be furious.
I’ll need to keep my eyes and ears open and not let her sexy little ass distract me.
I pull up to a set of lights. The sun is now sitting above the horizon, and daylight is upon us.
Isabelle pulls her feet up on the seat and tucks her arms around her legs like a young girl. She looks innocent, scared, and so much like Chloe, it clocks me in the heart.
A few times during our drive, I’ve felt a little resentment towards her for putting a halt to my work; intervening in the human trafficking of the Garcia Cartel is my job. Then again, I ask myself if there was ever really a choice to hand her over to another operative or even one of the Dark Kings, and honestly, I don’t think I could have.
Isabelle is mine to protect.
I take in all the street signs and steer the Jeep into another lane.
“Where are we going?” Izzy asks anxiously.
I don’t know yet. I’m looking for somewhere to stay that seems the most unlikely. Somewhere out of character.
I spot a high-priced, big-brand hotel and I have my answer.
“There,” I say, nodding at the hotel.
“What? No,” she gasps. “Just keep driving.”
“Trust me. And I need you to calm down,” I say, as the lights turn green. I head towards the sweeping driveway and drive past the entrance.
I glance over at Isabelle, who looks a little too rosy around the cheeks from her outfit. I will have to wing this, especially since we don’t have luggage.
I stop the car a yard or two from the front entrance, knowing the valet will be here in a moment.
I quickly grip her chin. “Breathe. I need you to calm down and not draw attention. We’re here on our honeymoon. Just flown in. Got it?”
She freezes.
“Got it?” I repeat.
When she nods and I feel the shadow of the valet cross the inside of the cab, I plant my mouth over hers and, for a moment, relish the taste of strawberry and mint.
Then I turn and open the door.
“Hola,” I say badly in Spanish, although I’m fluent.
“Hola. Welcome to Mexico. May I take your bags?” the man says.
We don’t have any except for the backpack I’ve dumped in the backseat. I reach in and grab it.
“We have sporadically eloped.” I grin, tugging Isabelle up against me and kissing her again as she climbs out. “We’ve got some shopping to do after checking in and getting comfortable, if you know what I mean.”
I pinch Isabelle’s ass and she squeaks. The man grins, and I’ve distracted him enough to not question my local plates.
