Page 685 of One More Kiss

I edge away from the clothed carcass, my mind buzzing with thoughts of a reckless escape. Should I risk the speed of a tiger or the crack of a bullet?

Tomás continues, unmoved by my frazzled begging, his face forged with cast iron. “Did you come to the plantation to assassinate the Souza kingpin?”

“No! I’ve told you already.” This time I palm my forehead, my fingers gliding in the slick sheen of sweat. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. W-why aren’t you listening to me?” I barely hear my breathy plea under the pounding of my heartbeat.

Tender shoots crack and a nasally snuffle announces the arrival of a single tiger, the biggest feline I’ve ever encountered. My heart bucks wildly, the pulse of it hard in my chest. Terror scorches every tense muscle until they ache.

When my gaze settles on the magnificent stalking creature, all I see is a powerful jaw crammed with razor-sharp teeth. Hefty, padded paws carry her from the leafy understory to the clearing. Vivid eyes curiously assess the scene while she lowers on her haunches, ready to pounce.

I wobble like a pendulum—knees frail and eyesight splashed with floaty blotches. My hands go numb and the earthy scented air around me gets hotter.

“Carina,” Tomás growls my name, his tone impatient. “We’re done. Come back to the Raptor, slowly.”

His words garble behind the whoosh of dizziness ambushing me. Each step gets harder to take while I try to swallow the lump in my tight throat. Even the loose-fitting shirt clinging to my sweat laden spine makes me feel claustrophobic and trapped. Uneven ground spins beneath the sunny espadrilles and on the next staggered stride, my ankle weakens.

I crash to my knees, skinning the heels of my palms. My teeth jar on impact and an inward hiss follows, spiky slices driving into my shin.

Blood drains from my face and pumps straight to the fresh gash. While I’m hunkered on hands and knees, there’s a serene calmness, a moment of stillness when the wildlife takes a collective breath and the tiger deliberates its next move.

Riding high on the wave of fear, I consider my own inevitable decision. Unable to balance, I scramble on all fours, scurrying in the opposite direction of the corpse toward my tormentor.

If I could stand, I would run. If I could sprint, I’d never look back at Tomás and seek shelter in the jungle. I’d disappear from this nightmare and from everyone in it.

However, those are the whimsical thoughts of a woman close to fainting. The constant surge of adrenaline has all but faded. My fight-or-flight reserves are well and truly depleted.

“Stop fucking around, Carina. Do as you’re told.” His voice casts a net of shivers, smothering me with cruel intimidation. “Get back here now.”

I can’t answer, desperately trying to muster the last shot of energy I have left. My stomach knots with rushed breaths, chasing my quick pulse. In my petrified state, I clutch a jaggy rock as a weapon. Helplessly prepared to defend myself.

Stones crunch beyond my whirling panic, the loud tempo beating out a rhythm of urgency. Before I gather a scream, energetic arms envelope my waist from behind. Sultry sandalwood mingles with the flurry of air cushioning me as I’m hoisted upwards. Seductive manly cleanliness tempts my senses, multiplying the chills wracking my body.

When I squirm, Tomás jerks me tighter against his chest where my dark hair clings to his crisp white shirt. Right there, cradled by him, I seek refuge in the embrace of a libertine. His powerful pace eats up the gradient until we’re at the rear of the waiting truck.

“Do you believe me?” I whisper, exhaustion zapping the energy to speak.

Through blurry eyes, I study his stern grimace of displeasure as he drops me into the back of the truck and heaves himself up to join me before slamming the tailgate shut.

“Go!” he barks out louder than a roar, purposefully ignoring my question. “Get the fuck out of here, Shane.”

The sensation of rapid movement churns in my stomach. Wheels spin forward, leaving the feeding frenzy massacre behind.

What should be relief warps into knotted dread. Not all predators live in the jungle, some live in expansive estates and pretend to be human. We’re following the worn trail back to a snake pit where the king serpent kills by constriction.

Tomás kneels, hunched over, nostrils flaring. His serious set eyes roam the lower half of my leg, his hardened expression deeply malignant. The disconcerting shadows swallowing his features caution me of an inner war—a distressing battle of some sort.

Pitch black eyes focus solely on the wound while his lungs expand and deflate in quick succession. “Your destiny is in my hands. Not even a tiger has that authority,” he spits out. “Whether I believe you or not is irrelevant.” His perfect white teeth snap the words with limited control.

My eyelids flutter over the wet eyeballs rolling in my head. I’m all too aware of his kinetic vibrations knocking my equilibrium off kilter and hate how his body heat blankets my uncontrollable shivers.

“You’re a monster, Tomás Souza,” I say breathlessly.

Pain tingles in waves, salient and stingy. I blow out a jet of air the instant I move to prop myself up to elbows. Blinking vigilantly, I’m rewarded with snapshots of a magnificently tanned torso now bare, abdominal muscles carved in ridges from daily workouts and athletic arms moving to methodically roll his expensive shirt.

He’s so close I can easily count the eyelashes framing his blackish eyes. There’s no distance separating us. No barriers. No protection from the man who'd threatened certain death by feline incisors, because he doesn’t trust me.

I should be horrified by his tactics, angry at his methods and furious that he made me repeat everything I’d already told him, but the reality is—I get it. I bleed distrust more than I do blood.

An indignant grunt escapes my parched throat with barely any gusto to make it worthwhile. “What are you doing?” I press my fingertips to his shoulders.

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