“I respond instantly to your commands, no questions, no hesitation.”
“Good. What else?”
She swallowed. “I don’t flinch when you touch me. Not in public. Not in private. Not ever—because someone will almost certainly be watching.”
His eyes dipped to her throat, lingered an instant before lifting again. “Perfect. Next?”
Her cheeks heated. “I exist to please you.”
Behind her, Leland coughed, smothering his amusement. Mateo didn’t bother hiding his snort.
Rhys didn’t glance their way. Didn’t lose focus. Didn’t waver.
“Exactly. Just like we practiced,” he said then repeated, “You’ve got this, Gaby.”
Before she could respond, the intercom crackled.
“Mr. Blackwood, we’re beginning our descent to Quepos–La Managua Airport. We’ll be on the ground in fifteen minutes.”
Her pulse jumped, she swallowed hard, and glanced out the window. For as far as the eye could see, there was still nothing but clouds.
Rhys tightened his hold on her hand. “Look at me, Gaby.”
He waited until she did, then reminded her, “You’re not alone in this. You have two of Devlin’s best men acting as your bodyguards. And you’ll be within arm’s reach of me at all times.”
A new, possessive cadence had slipped into his voice, so unlike the restrained professional he’d been these past few weeks, ever since their almost-kiss at the club. Had she imagined it? Or had he already become the man who owned her, at least for the mission?
She was still trying to make sense of it when the jet touched down with a jolt.
Taxiing was brief on the short tropical runway. When the door opened, humid tropical air seeped into the cabin. Gaby rose on unsteady legs.
At the top of the steps, she paused. Not far away, a uniformed limousine driver held a placard: MR. BLACKWOOD
Rhys’s hand hovered near her back, close enough to guide, not quite touching. “Deep breath. Act One is simple: ears open, follow my lead.”
She exhaled shakily. “Would it be bad form for me to puke on my owner?”
A low chuckle rolled off him. “It would make an impression, but let’s try to avoid it.”
Then, as if the curtain went up, he stepped slightly ahead of her, leading rather than escorting.
Gaby followed, behind him, in deference, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her ears.
The mission had begun. And so had the danger.
***
Rain misted the air when the limo rolled to a stop. Gaby peered out the window at the five-star boutique hotel rising out of the jungle. Sleek glass balconies crowned the upper floors, while a wide covered terrace wrapped the level below. Guests drifted along it, dressed in couture and glittering diamonds.
It wasn’t the den of slavers she feared. It was worse because monsters often didn’t look like monsters at all.
“Ready?” Rhys asked after the driver slid out and shut his door.
“No,” she replied. “But I’m going in anyway.”
Rhys squeezed her arm. “Breathe, Gaby, and remember our practice.” Then he stepped out when the driver opened the door.
She was still gathering her skirt when a hand extended inward to assist her. She hesitated before taking it, seeing Leland holding an umbrella. Mateo flanked the other side of the door, droplets beading on his black jacket.
