Page 82 of Wicked Intention

“You know Tom doesn’t shave,” Zo said. In the mirror, he saw her lips curve.

“True,” he agreed. Finn grimaced, and as he turned to her, he forced his agitation aside. It was an emotion hecouldn’t afford if he wanted to keep his woman safe. He focused on what was important. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m ready to do whatever you need me to do.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Closing the distance between them, Zo rested her hands on his shoulders. The disk was propped on his left side, and it seemed to gently vibrate against his skin. “I’m okay. Really. I’m worried about Tia Izel, and I wish she was safe. I’m worried about you, and I wish we were back in LA, but physically, I’m fine.” She leaned in closer, and voice soft, said, “I missed you, Finn.”

The confession hit him hard, right in the solar plexus. No one had ever said those words to him before. Finn wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I missed you, too, loquita.”

He took a minute to savor the warmth of her body pressed against his, the scent of the same shampoo and soap that he’d used, and the crisp mint of the toothpaste they’d shared. Stroking her back lightly, he realized he’d needed this. Needed to hold her, to feel her breathing. And as he gazed into her light blue eyes, Finn was pretty sure she’d needed this as much as he did.

Zo raised her face to his and Finn met her halfway. The kiss was slow, languid, and yet managed to be intense. They’d been apart for days, but it had felt like years. How the hell would he survive months without her while he worked with his team?

Finn’s hold on Zo tightened, and he deepened the kiss, although he knew better. His hands tugged her shirt from the waistband of her jeans, and he touched silky, bare skin. He had his world in his arms right now, and he could have lost her. If she wasn’t as resourceful and as strong as she was, hewouldhave lost her before he’d ever gotten out of LAX.

The need to reaffirm Zo was alive—that she was safe at least for the moment—obliterated the last of his commonsense. He reached for the snap of her jeans, lowered the zipper, and slid his hand inside her panties. Her gasp was followed by her arching into his touch. An instant later, she untied his towel. It fell to the floor.

Hell, yeah.Finn raised his head, verified that Zo needed this as much as he did, and started to pull her polo shirt over her head.

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted them. “Señor Ramos wishes to see you now,” a man called. “Bring the disk.”

He had to clear his throat before he could talk, and his voice was thick. “Be right there.” Reluctantly, Finn stepped back and reached for his jeans. It hurt to release her, but he wasn’t ready to push Ramos. Not yet.

Zo clutchedthe disk tightly in both hands and tried not to edge closer to Finn. He’d eased away from her once because she’d impeded his ability to move. Not that he could do much with the guards surrounding them, but he’d frequently told her that he liked options. Besides, a strong woman wouldn’t glue herself to her lover’s side, right?

To distract herself from her nerves, Zo looked around. Al’s office was every bit as ostentatious as she recalled from yesterday, but the man himself had yet to make an appearance. Maybe he kept them waiting because it would increase the tension.

Or, she corrected herself as he walked in, he’d gotten consumed by his workout.

Al’s T-shirt was drenched with sweat, and he held a glass with what appeared to be a fruit smoothie in one hand. Settling behind his desk, he took a sip. “Ah, Zofia, you are looking much better today,” he said in Spanish.

Finn tensed, but Zo kept her attention on Al. “Thank you for the clothes.”

“De nada.” He waved away her words.

Her stomach chose that moment to growl. Zo brought her hands—and the disk—tight to her belly as if it would take back the noise.

One side of Al’s mouth kicked up, but he didn’t smile. “Perhaps later, you and Señor Rowland will have breakfast in the dining room.”

“That would be lovely.” Or perhaps he wouldn’t feed them, using hunger as some kind of tool.

Al’s eyes zeroed in on the disk. “Tell me, Zofia, do you believe the legends my grandfather shared with you?”

“About the Disk of the Gods opening a gate in the Huarona’s mountain village? I don’t know. Anything’s possible.”

Finishing his glass, Al returned it to the desktop and stared at her intently. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said at last, but Zo couldn’t read his tone. “And here I thought you were more openminded than your parents. It seems I was wrong.”

It took massive amounts of control not to respond. Ramos knew her well enough to understand which buttons to push, and comparing her to her mom and dad was definitely one of them. She shrugged with what she hoped appeared to be nonchalance. “Do you believe the legends?” she asked, turning the question back on him.

“My grandfather—were he here—would take the disk to the rock wall with the doorway carved into it, perform the necessary prayers, and insert it in the slot.”

It wasn’t an answer to her question, but yes, it was exactly what the elder Señor Ramos would have done if he were alive. Damn, she missed the man and the stories he would tell. Her gaze locked with Al’s, and she couldn’t help but smile at the shared memory. “And no one would have been more shocked than him, should a gate to the world of the gods actually open.”

With a grin, Al inclined his head, seconding her statement. His amusement didn’t last long. “Hand me the disk, Zofia.”

It was instinct that had her clutching it tighter. “Zofia,” Finn warned under his breath.

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