After she’d fled Victor’s seedy motel room, told Valeria where to find Kimber, and sent that awful email to protect Trees, Laila had used some of Victor’s cash to purchase a vehicle from a farmer outside the nearest village and left his truck behind. From there, she’d retrieved her things, including Trees’s guns, from the abandoned villa near La Pesca and driven nearly a hundred miles south to Tampico.

  As soon as she’d arrived, she braided her hair, shoved it under a cap she’d purchased at a seaside tourist shop, then rented a condo on the water from a woman and her sister with friendly smiles. Not that she trusted them. She didn’t trust anyone who hadn’t proven themselves. Thankfully, the sisters had allowed her to pay cash and hadn’t asked questions.

  From the moment she’d arrived, she had done her best to disappear into the city. So far, it had worked. She felt more invisible than safe. But maybe that was the best she could hope for.

  Being here, surrounded by people yet removed from them, had given her time to think—mostly about Trees. But she hadn’t managed to make any decisions.

  Nor had Victor reared his head again. She still had his phone. She’d powered it down to preserve the battery, but in case she needed it or his contacts, she’d hung on to the device. But his uncharacteristic silence had her hoping that Montilla’s men had picked him up and ended his miserable existence.

  The few times she’d powered up Victor’s mobile, she had poked around his messages and social media for information about his whereabouts or his plans. She’d only found rumors that Geraldo Montilla had been gravely injured when some Americans had broken into his hacienda and rescued the woman they’d been keeping captive.

  So Kimber was free. Laila could feel good about that, at least. Everything else? Wretched. She’d abandoned her sister, though Valeria was seemingly safe with Kane Preston. She’d left Victor to die, though he deserved it. But she felt beyond guilty about Trees. He had done nothing but try to protect her and love her, and she had hurt him in the cruelest way possible. Yes, for his safety, but her reason wouldn’t matter to him. He’d surely written her off as a mercenary whore. He would never absolve her of her sins. Laila doubted she would ever absolve herself, either.

  Gulls cried overhead. The smell of salt filled her nose. It was peaceful in the early hours. Soon, locals would flock here with their significant others or jog with their pets. Then families would show up with sunscreen and beach towels to bask in the golden rays. But right now, she felt like the only person in this corner of the world. She could be alone with her thoughts, her regrets. That should have brought her some level of peace.

  It didn’t.

  What was Trees doing now? Oddly, when she had called her sister a few minutes ago, Valeria had been oddly reserved, almost oblique. Laila didn’t know what to make of that. When she’d asked about Trees, Valeria claimed she knew nothing but warned that she likely hadn’t seen the last of him. When Laila asked why her sister believed that, Valeria had dodged the question, claiming Jorge needed her before she hung up. Laila had been walking the beach since.

  What would she say if she ever saw Trees again? What would she do? The truth was, until she knew Victor was dead, any communication would put him at risk. And given all the years that cabrón had tyrannized her life, Laila couldn’t just blink or wave her magic wand to make her nemesis disappear. And if Montilla was actually at death’s door, did that mean Victor had slipped through the kingpin’s fingers? Or had Montilla exercised his version of justice on Victor before being felled by a bullet?

  Despite continuing to look through every message and connection on Victor’s phone, she hadn’t seen an update in over a week.

  What did that mean?

  On a nearby balcony, a dog barked. A couple jogged by, obviously on vacation and enjoying the Mexican sun. Someone behind her opened their window. A car horn blared in the distance. The world was waking up. Laila wished she could just tune all of it, along with her reality, out. But she needed to make some decisions, then take her next steps.

  She didn’t dare return to Louisiana. She would endanger her family, and she would be too tempted to see Trees. But she couldn’t stay here much longer. In fact, fleeing Mexico altogether would be wise. If she didn’t, someone would eventually find her. It was a matter of time.

  Laila pulled the ball cap lower, adjusted her overlarge sunglasses, and headed back to her rental. Her stomach turned. No surprise. She’d barely eaten in days, but the thought of food held no appeal. Maybe she would go back to bed. After all, she felt exhausted. Who wouldn’t, though, after almost no sleep?

  Was this what a broken heart felt like?

  Shaking off the maudlin thought, she eased through her sliding glass door, back into her unit. Then she locked up and drew the drapes. When she whirled around, nothing was out of place, but the air felt…disturbed, as if someone had been here. She smelled something that didn’t belong here. No, someone. A man.

  She smelled Trees.

  That wasn’t possible. Her imagination must be in overdrive. She’d missed him so much that her psyche had dreamed up his scent. Or maybe she was finally losing her mind.

  Laila checked the lock on the front door, just to be sure no one had breached her unit, but it was secure. Then she sighed, divesting herself of her hat and glasses. She left both on the breakfast bar before ambling to the kitchen. Listlessly, she opened the refrigerator, then closed it again before making her way to the sink to wash her mug after pouring out the coffee she hadn’t felt like drinking. But once she set down the sponge, she bowed her head. Tears fell. God, she’d been crying for days.

  Yes, this must be what a broken heart felt like.

  She didn’t have time. She didn’t have the luxury, either. Not until everyone she loved was safe.

  Today was another day. She prayed it would finally provide the information she needed to move on.

  Laila prowled back to the sliding glass door, kicked off her flip-flops in preparation for her next walk on the beach, probably at sunset, then pulled off the tank top and shorts she’d been wearing the past few days, which she’d retrieved from the villa. They were the same clothes she’d worn when she’d been with Trees, the ones that had made him look at her with lust and lose his train of thought. Having them against her skin had both made her feel closer to him and tortured her with his absence. But she was being foolish. He would never be hers again.

  After dropping her clothes in the washer, she turned the corner and wandered to her room, heading straight for the bed. She could take off her bra and panties and don the huge T-shirt she’d bought in town. But that seemed like a lot of effort since she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  When she was two steps from the bed of rumpled white sheets and colorful blankets, the door closed behind her with an irrefutable click. Laila whirled at the unexpected sound. She froze when she saw a face she hadn’t expected in her bedroom.

  “Trees,” she gasped.

  “Laila.” His frigid smile looked anything but happy as he prowled toward her.

  Her heart pounded. Instinct told her to back away. “What are you doing here?”

  “Did you think you’d seen the last of me?” His stare raked her up and down. His smile turned even more arctic.

  Laila swallowed. “We have nothing to say. Get out. You are not welcome.”

  “You don’t want to talk to me? Fine. But I’m not leaving without you.”

  He meant to take her with him?

  She scanned the room for an escape, but Trees had her trapped. Other than the window along the far wall, she had no way out of the condo since he’d blocked the door.

  Laila knew better than to believe she could run past him.

  “No. I have chosen to stay here.”

  “Alone?”

  He was asking her about Victor. “That is none of your business.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong. Everything about you is my business. So, we can do this the easy way. You can pack your things and come along obediently. We’ll board a plane and I’ll take you back to Louisiana. You can visit your sister and your nephew, show them that you’re okay. And then you’ll deal with me.”

  Fear surged through Laila. She was even more afraid to ask him what would happen if she chose the hard way. “I cannot go back. I would put too many people at risk.”

  “You will go,” he contradicted, teeth bared. “Or I’ll restrain you right now, transport you back to Louisiana, and toss you into my dungeon for some…corrective discipline. I won’t let you go until I’m convinced you’re done playing dangerous games with drug lords and cartels. What’s it going to be?”

  Corrective discipline? Laila thought about all the equipment—restraints, paddles, whips, floggers, and other things she couldn’t identify—in his dungeon. She shivered.

  But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a disconcerting thrill, too.

  She studied Trees’s face. Those green eyes that used to gaze at her with warmth, that had reassured her as he’d searched her soul to see past her hurts and find the trembling girl underneath? They were glacial now. Raw and cutting. He looked terrifyingly eager to unleash his worst on her. He was so large, so powerful, so determined.

  “Trees…” she pleaded.

  His expression only turned chillier. “Whimpering won’t work anymore, Laila. How do you want this to go, easy or hard? You have ten seconds to decide.”

  Let herself be led like a lamb to slaughter or fight him with her last breath?

  Even five minutes ago, Laila would have sworn she would take any opportunity to throw herself in Trees’s protective arms and burrow her way to warmth and love in his embrace. But now? She saw nothing but terrifying wrath on his face.

  She slid her nervous gaze around the room again, this time in search of a way to protect herself.

  Her stare fastened on the guns she had swiped from his dungeon. She pounced for them, nearly knocking them to the ground in her trembling haste.

  Trees was right behind her, one massive arm wrapping tight to crush her. With his free hand, he ripped the weapons from her grip and swept them to the floor. “You want to kill me?”

  “I want to defend myself,” she panted out.

  With his chest pressed to her back, his mirthless laugh shook her body. A shudder went down her spine. “By killing me. But I guess since your lover didn’t manage the job, you thought you’d do it for him? Will he fuck you extra hard and raw as a reward for that?”

  “Do not do this,” she pleaded.

  “You did this, honey.”

  The sweet endearment that had once flowed off his tongue was now bitter. She quivered and held in a ridiculous urge to cry. Trees no longer loved her. He didn’t even care, not that she was surprised. She’d known that was the likely outcome. But maybe if she explained, it would defuse some of his fury. “I did not leave your house with Victor because I wanted to.”

  His fingers bit into her arms. His lips slid against her ear. Her heart rate surged—and it had nothing to do with fear. How could she burn for a man who hated her?

  “Since you walked out the front door with him, I’m calling bullshit. But I’m not here for details about your torrid fuckfest with Victor.”

  “You do not understand. I—”

  “Stop. You open your mouth, and lies come out. I don’t want to fucking hear them anymore. Easy or hard, Laila? You tell me how it’s going to be.” He sucked in a hissing breath as he pressed his erection against her backside. “I fucking hope you choose the hard way. My palm is itching. I want you strapped to my table, under my thumb, utterly helpless and unable to stop me until you learn to be a good girl.”

  Nothing about that should turn her on, but everything did. Even fear gave her desire an edge she didn’t understand. Her heart revved harder. She swallowed to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. Her nipples felt hard enough to cut glass. Her womb clenched. She got unbearably wet.

  “No,” she said more to herself than to him.

  “No?” The hand clamped around her waist lifted, caressing up her arm. Then his palm engulfed her breast. His thumb flicked the engorged tip.

  Laila sucked in a shocked breath of pleasure, then bit her lip to hold in a moan. “Stop.”

  He didn’t. “Your nipple is hard, Laila. Why is that?”

  “I am cold.”

  “You weren’t cold two minutes ago.”

  She hadn’t been, and he was too astute not to know. “I am now.”

  “You know what I think?” He nipped her lobe with his teeth, sending another wave of sensation crashing through her. “I think you’re lying. I think you’re aroused as fuck.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. I think you’re wet for me, too.”

  Laila pressed her lips together. If she denied it, he would only slide his big fingers into her panties and prove she’d been dishonest. If she admitted it…then what? Would he toss her on the bed, strip her bare, and make her scream with ecstasy? Or would he laugh and ignore her?

  She remained mute.

  His growl in her ear sounded low, grating, and not remotely amused. “Nothing to say, little one?”

  “Let me go.”

  “Oh, that’s never happening, not unless I’m good and ready. You’re going to learn to stop lying, misdirecting, and obfuscating with me—and we’re going to start now. Are you wet?”

  Something in his voice warned against lying. He wouldn’t physically hurt her, but there would be consequences if she wasn’t honest. She felt too emotionally naked, too vulnerable to relinquish the truth. If he knew how much he aroused her, he would use it to his advantage.

  “It is none of your business.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” he murmured in her ear. “You just keep digging yourself a deeper hole. I’m starting to think you want me to punish you.”

  “I want you to leave me alone.”

  “If you did, you wouldn’t be so”—his hand slid down her ribs, over her abdomen, and inside her panties—“wet. Oh, fuck, Laila. This pussy…”

  She tried to steel herself against the desire, but his fingers diving between her folds and trailing through her flowing juices had her gasping, her back arching, her hips writhing. Now that he knew how much she wanted him, there was no hiding. Despite the dread and need clashing in a dizzying thrill, she twisted away from him, pressing her thighs together in an attempt to evict his hand.

  “No.” Her protest sounded far more like a panting plea.

  “Yes.” He used his free hand to hoist one leg into the crook of his elbow and spread her wide open. His free hand curled over her mound. “This is mine. You’re mine. The sooner you realize it, the easier this will be.”

  The objection on the tip of her tongue dissipated to silence when his slick fingers grazed her clit. He’d primed her for his touch, and she was beyond sensitive. Tingles erupted, melding with the heat of his skin. The new sensation mowed down her resistance and sent her up on tiptoe with a cry.

  “Easy or hard, honey?”

  Laila couldn’t remember why he was asking that question. All she could focus on was the molasses slide of his fingers over her most nerve-rich spot and the destructive pleasure he was undoing her with. “Trees…”

  “Still trying to get away with not answering me? Maybe I can give you a little incentive to speak.”

  He withdrew his hand. Without his touch, she felt aching and shaking and desperate almost immediately. Then he settled his hand above her mound. Even through her underwear, the heat of his palm enveloped her. Laila tried to restrain her shudder, but it was no use. Her body was hardwired to his. Her head told her to resist, but the rest of her wanted to beg him to lay her down and fill her with every one of his hard, veiny inches.

  She hadn’t even begun processing the destructive arousal when the hand above her sex swept down, striking her with a short, sharp smack.

  The blow against her most female flesh stung. Burned. Reverberated through her entire body. Shock replaced desire for a suspended moment. Then need boomeranged back twice as strong, roaring to hungry life. She couldn’t stop a trembling cry from slipping out.

  Trees slid his hand back inside her panties. “Oh, so you like your pussy spanked?”

  She shouldn’t. Laila knew that. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, refusing to validate his effect on her. He already knew it. “No.”

  “You just keep lying to me. Bad, bad girl…” He strummed her clit again. Then again. Not stopping until her eyes slid shut and another moan, this one loud, escaped.

  “You cannot…” Her attempt to scold him ended in a breathy exhalation that almost sounded like begging.

  “Touch you? Oh, honey, I can. Anytime I want. Anywhere I want. Any way I want. This? You?” He cupped her pussy again. “All mine—until I say otherwise.” He punctuated his edict by plunging a pair of fingers inside her and thrusting deep. As she mewled with sensation, his thumb slid over her sensitive bud again. Laila felt herself melting against him as his lips blazed a path across her shoulder and up her neck, then back to settle against her ear. “Did your pussy sting when I slapped it?”

  She didn’t dare answer.

  “It did, didn’t it? And you loved it.”

  Trees wasn’t the gentle lover he’d been when she had last been in his bed. This man made her tremble and fear that she would yield her free will to him for pleasure. Laila shook her head stubbornly, terrified to give him that power over her body.

  But it didn’t matter. He removed his hand from her panties again, then popped her slick, swollen flesh through the silky fabric with a quick swat of his fingers.

  The sensations were even stronger. Her knees nearly gave out. She couldn’t stop a warbled, desperate cry from filling the air.

  “Your body is being honest,” he taunted. “Let’s see if we can get your mouth there.”

  Without warning, he started grinding the heel of his palm over the puffy, sensitive pad of her sex, manipulating her clit in the process. The heat, the friction, the dark hunger of his touch… Laila didn’t know how much longer she could fight Trees and the screaming climax he seemed determined to force on her. And if she gave in, what would he do next? How would she ever convince him that she felt nothing for him? That she belonged to Victor?