~ 13 ~
PEYTON
Belize felt like another planet.
The very air itself was alive; thick with the lush, delicious scent of life, of salt, of fragrant, flowering hibiscus. Color exploded everywhere; from the azure blue skies dotted with puffy white clouds, to the verdant green jungles that edged the yellow, sandy beaches.
Four days.
I couldn’t believe we’d been here for only that long. Four days without running. Four days without dodging gunfire, or having to worry about the shadow of Donovan Prescott; looming over us.
It felt like an eternity already. A sun-soaked reprieve in a remote, isolated villa, that might’ve well have been paradise. The walls were open. The breezes were legendary. Every morning we woke to platters of fresh fruit and warm bread, laid out for us by the locals. We ate and drank together, as the morning sun spilled generously across bare skin.
My skin.
Their skin.
It took a day or two to decompress. But now that I wasn’t looking over my shoulder every few minutes, I was focusing on, well… other things.
And now here I was on the patio, dressed in a stunning, high-hipped swimsuit that left little to the imagination. Stretching my arms high to the sky, releasing the final kinks from my encounter with the tree, as I decided whether I wanted a second cup of coffee, my third piece of toast, or my first morning swim.
“Morning, darlin’.”
Ripley smiled as he brushed past me, his hand lingering on my waist on his way into the villa. He pressed in a little closer than he needed to, but I wasn’t exactly leaning away, either. His shirtless body was built for weather like this; all sculpted abs and tightly-coiled muscle. I touched him reflexively on his own hip, just above one of those two sinfully precise ‘V’ lines that guided my eyes lower, into dangerous, tempting territory.
It had been like this the whole time, since we arrived, since we’d been provided just about everything we needed to lay low, keep our heads down, and decide what happened next. We’d boarded a sleek jet, where Colson had greeted the pilot. Landed at some remote airstrip, where a car was already waiting. There were no passports, no checks, no questions. Everything was prepared in advance, through Ripley’s contacts or Colson’s military connections, or through Theo’s magic fingers, gliding over his keyboard.
It was one of the caveats of Donovan only hiring the best.
Turned against him, they were still the best.
I glanced inside, to where Colson was pouring coffee. Every time I saw him, the sleeves on his way too tight T-shirt looked intentionally higher. He’d relaxed somewhat over the past four days, but he was still sharp, still on point. I couldn’t stop gawking at those incredible shoulders, swiveling left and right as he checked exits, double-checked sightlines, and generally kept us safe.
Even so, I’d caught him looking at me on more than one occasion. Those blue eyes lingered on my curves sometimes, here and there, during his constant sweeps and scans. One night, while leaning over the railing, he’d come up behind me with a drink in each hand. The air was thick with the buzz of insects, and distant, floating music. But standing there, side by side, I’d swear he’d devoured me whole.
Mentally, anyway.
Theo was in the water. I decided to join him. It was one of the few times he wasn’t bent over his keyboard, and I wanted to pick his brain some more.
Besides, he was sweet on me. And that was always an advantage.
“Hey…”
I surfaced beside him, to find a head on a pair of floating shoulders. They were very nice shoulders, too.
“You finally decided to enjoy yourself, I see.”
We drifted together, only feet apart. Right away I felt the conflict in those sharp, intelligent eyes, as they battled to keep from dipping down to my bobbing breasts.
“I uh, took a break. Yes.”
His lashes were long and dark, even wet. They partially masked his soft brown eyes.
“I didn’t know computer nerds got breaks.”
“We do,” Theo laughed nervously. “It’s in our contract.”
I smiled demurely, and drifted a little closer. It was immediately more intimate.
