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“Ouch,” I cry. “Here, give it to me and I’ll read you the directions.”
“Isn’t that how divorces start?” He smirks, handing it to me.
“Oh, I’m filing for divorce, husband,” I say, then realize I’m not going to be any use because I don’t speak or read Spanish. But after a minute, I figure out I can just let the GPS guide us and tell him when to turn as we approach.
“Here. Here. Turn. Francisco Zarco,” pronouncing it poorly.
I squeeze the screen to see where our end destination is. It’s about two miles from where we are and, of course, it makes no sense to me because, again, Spanish.
I cast my eyes across the luxury vehicle and notice the tension in Deck’s jaw. His brows are furrowed, and he runs a hand over his hair a few times.
I’m not looking at his powerful tattooed biceps or strong shoulders. Nor his thick thighs. The heavy black flip-flops look strange on him compared to the boots he was wearing previously, but even his toes are sexy.
Damn him.
His eyes meet mine briefly before darting back to the road.
I blush.
He’s asked me not to look at him like that, except I’m not sure it’s possible. I want his mouth on me again. More than that little mistaken kiss we had earlier.
I want his tongue deep in my mouth, claiming me as he pulls me into his bulky chest. I want those big arms around me and to feel his thick cock pulsing against me.
In me.
No.
For the first time, I let myself acknowledge what I’ve always known. I’m angry about being forced into this engagement. I rarely admit it, but I don’t love Todd.
It’s never been more evident to me now I’ve been kidnapped and on the run with the sexiest, most handsome man in the world.
Who wants to have sex with me.
And I have to say no.
Seriously. Who did I piss off in a past life?
I press my lips together, almost pouting.
“Iz.” I almost jump when Decker calls my name.
“What?” I glance at him, and his brows are high on his forehead as if he knows where my mind went.
“Where next?”
“Oh, one more block, and then turn right. Where are we going, anyway?” I ask as Decker adjusts the air conditioning and then his crotch.
Don’t look.
“I have to make a detour. I need to tell you it could be dangerous, but this is important,” he says as my eyes fly open and a chill runs through my body.
“How dangerous?”
“Very.”
