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Fear and attraction.
Warring conflicts.
I had no idea what the night would bring, but one thing was certain, wherever Deacon was adventure was sure to follow.
10
Deacon
I’d had more than enough commotion for one day. Thankfully, the ride back to the villa was incident-free.
I lifted my chin and sucked in a deep breath of the salty, Caribbean air. Lights formed in the distance, shiny blobs that hinted of warmth. Soon, the lights came into sharp focus, blazing from the porch.
I cut the boat’s engine and let the tide slap against the hull, nudging us into the channel that flowed to the dock. Mangroves pressed close to the water, squeezing us in like pedestrians on a narrow street. Insects belted out a song that soaked the air.
A figure rose from the bushes, a stalwart statue in the night. When we got closer to the dock, I nodded at him.
He responded with a slow dip of his chin.
Shuffling sounded behind me. I focused on docking safely and relied on my other senses to identify who approached.
Heavy steps. Loud breathing.
Humphries.
“Is that a ghost?”
Annoyance tightened my fingers on the wheel. The man hadn’t spoken since I’d announced my plan to steal Angel away. Instead, he’d clung to her, acting like a child who was about to lose his favorite toy.
My challenge had backfired. I should have left Humphries in the dark and taken Angel on my own. Maybe then, I would not have been forced to witness his invasion of her space.
“Who is he?” Humphries insisted.
“Miguel.” I looked at the man standing on the dock, trying to appraise him from a stranger’s perspective. He wore a light brown T-shirt and pants rolled up at the cuffs. The wind tugged his thick brown hair and bushy beard.
“Is that your servant or something?”
I bristled.
Humphries laughed awkwardly. “I was just joking.”
“Go and sit down.”
Humphries narrowed his eyes.
I sighed and added, “Please.”
As his footsteps trotted away, I grabbed the rope and swung it to Miguel. He caught it easily and, with practiced ease, tied it to the post.
The boat bobbed contentedly, glad to be home.
Turning back to the passengers, my eyes found Angel. She sat with her head dipped to her chest and her eyes closed. The gentle breeze flung tendrils of her straight black hair over her nose and cheeks. Despite the illusion of rest, she gripped Reid tightly, shifting whenever he did.
“Angel.” Humphries shook her shoulder. “I think we’re here.”
I strode toward them and crouched in front of her. Regret stabbed my heart. It must have been cold on the ride here. I’d bundled Reid up properly, but I hadn’t thought to give her a blanket until now.
“Were you cold?” I asked solemnly, unable to keep the bite of irritation out of my voice. This was not a question I should have asked at the end of our journey.
