Page 680 of One More Kiss

Chapter5

Yankinga designer hang tag off with my teeth, I shrug on a blouse made from wispy jade fabric and tuck the tails into the gaping waistband of candy pink chino shorts.

I glance at the price before letting the tag flutter to my toes. Regardless of the expense, it’s not an outfit I would choose to die in. Nonetheless, it beats being naked. Thankfully, I’m covered from throat to mid-thigh.

Tomás doesn’t bat an eyelid at the oversized and severely contrasting combination, only covers his intense stare with sunglasses. “My mother would never pair those together.”

“Then why did you?” I mutter under my breath, staring at pale yellow espadrilles with straps coiled around my ankles. I look like a miserable popsicle.

“If I were to dress you, sweet little liar, you’d be naked with only diamonds cuffing your throat.”

A fleeting smile dances at the corner of his beautiful mouth and for a treacherous second, it feels as though there’s pure white ribbon weaving from his life to mine. When he crosses his arms, the deep red gemstone embedded in his ring gleams in the sunlight. The color of death soaks into the invisible ribbon, ruining my wishful alliance.

“It’s your task to dump the body in the reserve beyond the plantation.”

“Dump the body?” I echo, pressing a palm to my growling belly.

“Dump the body,” he repeats without any emotion. “It’s your first challenge.”

Something hideous creeps through my veins and bleeds into my heart, clogging the arteries with a syrupy shot of poison.

The skin on my spine prickles with turbulent shivers when I mull over his cruel scheme to break me. “What… sort of challenges?” I whisper, swallowing quickly.

“If I have your devoted obedience, the absolute truth will follow.” His textured velvety voice cracks on the last word. He drags his ringed finger over a pouty bottom lip, slowly, thoughtfully, and then he adds, “You will obey me, Carina.”

There it is, the secret swell of darkness within me that billows like a tornado of smoke. The way his well-spoken accent enunciates my name sends chills over my scalp, dries my mouth, and disperses charges of electricity to my core. Even though I have unbridled hatred for this monster, he excites me in ways I can’t understand.

Anger escapes my throat in the form of a serpentine hiss. Before I can answer, a man I’ve never seen before strolls through the courtyard, his chin dipping and rising as if he’s assessing the ill-dressed girl standing beside his boss. Both men nod at each other ceremoniously.

“Got your hands full?” the stranger quizzes, folding his arms to mimic Tomás’ businesslike posture.

“You could say that. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, Shane.”

“Are you sure about that? This one’s a kid.” The guy with an Irish twang angles his broad shoulders, so his spine twists and he can see me better. “And not bad looking either.”

Tomás clenches his jaw, whips off his shades, and glares at his friend as if the suggestion is unpalatable. “Focus on the job, not the girl.”

Silver rimmed aviators protect Shane’s eyes from the solar rays, and his muscles verge on excessive as they strain the white shirt he wears. The top button is open and his shirt tails are loose, which makes me think he’s the lifter and shifter of the two.

It’s only when he turns on his heels to catch me staring that I notice a silvery scar split like a fork of lightning across one side of his face. Pencil thin scars glow within a vein-like network, contouring a clean shaven cheek and ending above his right eye.

“The truck is packed. Ready when you are,” Shane says matter-of-factly while he runs his nails over hair cropped close to the scalp and stares at the blouse I’m wearing. “I grabbed those from Teresa’s wardrobe. She had a shit load of unworn clothes in there, so she won’t miss them. They don’t look half bad on her. A bit big, but I’m guessing that's a good thing.” He chuckles and drags the sunglasses midway down the bridge of his nose, offering me the palest green gaze. It’s not menacing or uncomfortable, more playful. “You want her to ride in the back with me?”

I glare at them both, my pulse beating out morse code for an SOS signal. A shadow of displeasure twitches over Tomás’ mouth, contorting his lips to a grimace. “You’re in the back. She rides upfront with me.”

“You got it, Tommy.”

Tommy. It sounds so amicable and endearing, as if the two are best friends. Certainly not the nickname of a devil.

Shane repositions his shades, rotates, and saunters away. A second later, Tomás’ shoes strike the ground as he covers the short distance I had to breathe in. When he nears, my spine stiffens in defense, and I fold my arms over my chest.

“Time for your next challenge, little liar.”

I blink in the sight of my captor, how his skin is tanned beneath an Audemars Piguet watch, the golden strap and emerald green dial heavy on his thick wrist. I recognize the exclusive brand from an online advertisement, and estimate its worth as grossly luxurious.

Pure white teeth behind plush lips sparkle as he speaks with that sultry eloquent cadence.

There’s nothing out of place on this man. A part of me blames his superior appearance as the trigger to my odd sexual appetite. I’m not used to seeing men in this way, except something stirs deeper within me when he touches my elbow. The skin heats instantly and a crest of prickles roll like a tsunami. From that simple contact, I learn the intrigue is far more disturbing.

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