“If I tell you, what will you do with the knowledge?”

  He vaulted off the stool and took her face in his hands. “This isn’t a negotiation. Answer the goddamn question.”

  “Or you will toy with my body again until I am on fire, at the edge of bearing this horrible need?”

  “If I have to.”

  She swallowed and looked away.

  Trees’s heart leapt into his throat as he jerked her stare back to his. “Why, Laila? How do you feel about me?”

  “I cannot fight you. I do not know why I tried.” Her chin trembled as she fought more tears. “I love you.”

  Those three words blew him away. He sucked in a shocked breath. His heart turned over. He stepped back and stared at her as he tried to process her admission. Was it true? Or was she merely telling him what she thought he wanted to hear?

  Trees didn’t know. And he wouldn’t until he got distance from her naked body, his desire cooled, and he had the opportunity to think.

  Fuck.

  Without a word, he rounded the table and laid it flat again.

  “What are you doing?” She sounded scared.

  He didn’t answer. What the hell could he say? Instead, he uncuffed her ankles, then her wrists, and helped her to her feet. Immediately, her trembling legs folded beneath her, and she swayed into him, all but melting against his side. He caught her, wrapping his arms around her for support.

  “Trees.” She clung to him—with her hands, her eyes, her expression.

  It took everything he had not to carry her to his bedroom, lay her reverently across his bed, and make love to her until dawn. She’d proven she could be wily and dangerous. She knew how to work men. The Edgingtons had Kimber back mostly unscathed, but that hardly meant the danger was over. Now both Montilla and Ramos would come after them. He didn’t dare let himself be drawn in by a potentially pretty viper until he’d had the opportunity to think this through. Until he figured her out.

  “Stay here. There are water bottles in the refrigerator. Drink one. There are protein bars in the basket on the counter. Eat one. Don’t argue. Don’t touch your pussy or get yourself off. And don’t get dressed. If you’re cold, there are blankets in the cabinet along the far wall. I’ll be back.”

  When he stepped toward the stairs, she gripped him tighter. “Do not leave me. Please.”

  She hadn’t asked where are you going? or what are you doing? She’d just spilled a seemingly heartfelt plea at him not to walk away.

  Her words broke him. It made him a stupid sucker, but Trees just didn’t care right now. He couldn’t fucking stand the distance between them anymore.

  He picked her up, settled her back against the nearest wall, then crowded her personal space as he bent his head and seized her mouth. For a handful of forbidden seconds, he let hope control him. He let his hunger rage. He let his need for her boil over into a love that scalded his veins and burned away all good sense.

  He delved into her mouth, pressing himself against her until there was no air between them. He forced her lips wider and took her tongue. Laila responded unabashedly, opening herself, giving her all to him. She clawed at his shoulders, clung and climbed him, lifting her legs to wrap them around his hips. He helped, taking her ass in his hands and tilting her up. She rocked frantically and feverishly against him.

  When he wedged her against the wall with the ridge of his hard cock, rocking against her, she keened. He wanted her. He burned for her. He was sweating for her as he forced himself deeper into her kiss, not giving a fuck if he ever came up for air again.

  What if she’s playing you, too?

  As much as Trees hated that voice, it was rational. He couldn’t keep recklessly falling into Laila without self-destructing, so if he had any intention of saving himself and figuring out what the hell was going on, he had to break away from her now.

  Tearing his mouth free, he released her and stepped back, his panting breaths harsh. He swiped a hand down his face, pausing to palm her taste from his lips, trying not to give in to his need for Laila’s sweetness again. “I won’t be long.”

  Terror crossed her face. “You will not leave me in the dark, will you?”

  He softened. “No. I know you’re afraid. I would never intentionally scare you.”

  She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Thank you. And I am sorry. For everything. Perhaps my plan does not make sense to you, but I only meant to spare you the danger…”

  Because she supposedly loved him.

  His heart urged him to believe her and take a leap of faith. His head told him she was a bad bet and to back off.

  He couldn’t address her feelings—or his own—right now, but he could address her scheme. “Actually, your plan made a lot of sense. It was smart and well thought out…right up until you tried to tackle an entire cartel and a splinter faction on your own. You have knowledge of these people. I’ll give you that. But you’re not fucking trained for this.” And had she really needed to throw them under the bus to do it?

  “I know.” She dropped her head.

  Because she genuinely saw the error of her ways? Or because she was playing him?

  Fuck, he was going to what-if himself into making a stupid mistake if he didn’t get the hell away from her and get a few minutes to think.

  He merely nodded, then punched in the digits to open the door. “By the way, I’ve changed the code in and out of this room, so you won’t be leaving here until I say so.”

  Trees climbed the stairs, made sure all the lights were on, then let himself out of the dungeon. He hadn’t dared to look at Laila again before he left. He couldn’t let himself be swayed. Or suckered by those hazel eyes he kept losing himself in. He had to figure out—once and for all—where her allegiances lay.

  How the fuck are you going to do that?

  Sighing, he headed for the shower. He needed to clear his head, and he thought better here. If he didn’t rid his thoughts of Laila—her scent, her taste, and that look in her eyes when desire overwhelmed her defenses and she finally moaned and spilled secrets from her lush lips—he’d get nowhere.

  He turned on the water, undressed, then stepped under the pelting spray. Then he went through the motions—soaping up, then jacking off to a hollow orgasm he hoped would purge Laila from his thoughts. It didn’t. He sank to the tiled bench and hung his head with a sigh. He hadn’t managed to accomplish much in the last few minutes, except to fixate on Laila more.

  God, this need for her had him so fucked up.

  With a sigh, he cut off the shower and toweled off. After he yanked on some fresh clothes and padded out of his bedroom, he didn’t feel any better. Everything inside him wanted her to be innocent, but he was afraid the truth would crush him. Still, sticking his head in the sand wasn’t his speed. Lives were at stake, and he couldn’t let emotions cloud him.

  Trees knew what he had to do, no matter how much it killed him.

  After flipping on the coffeepot, he headed to the garage while his brew dripped and retrieved Laila’s belongings, which he’d gathered from her beach bungalow. After planting in the kitchen, he yanked open the duffel he’d shoved everything into, prowling around for anything useful. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much except a phone he’d never seen her carry. Since it showed some wear and tear, it obviously wasn’t new. The case around it was black and gray and geometric. Definitely masculine. He flipped it over and found initials: vmr.

  Holy shit, was this Victor’s device? Why would Laila have it? Had she swiped the man’s phone…or had he given it to her in the hopes it wouldn’t fall into enemy hands?

  Somewhere along the way, she’d turned the device off, so he powered it up. To his shock, he got right in, no password required. What the fuck? A man in Victor’s line of work should definitely have the protection of a secure password—at a minimum.

  Quickly, Trees checked the device to ensure that every means of tracking was disabled. Wifi and cellular off. Ditto with location services. No roaming.

  Time to take this bitch apart.

  Before he could dive in, his own phone rang in his bedroom. He thought about ignoring it. There wasn’t anyone he wanted to talk to now.

  Except Laila. You need the truth from her.

  No, what he really needed was to get naked with her and avoid talking altogether, except with their bodies.

  That was a bad idea.

  Muttering a curse, Trees plucked the device off his bathroom counter, surprised to see Zy calling this late. “What’s up, buddy?”

  “Checking in on you. Kane told me you brought Laila by to visit her family.”

  “Yeah. She needed it.” There was a point to Zy’s call, and Trees just wanted to get to it. “What’s up?”

  “Not much. How’s it going with her?”

  “It’s going about like I expected. Everything with Laila is somewhere between a battle and a riddle. You?”

  “Good. Hallie started a swim class tonight. The whole thing was cute as hell, but it wore her out. She went down early, so Tessa and I are just hanging out.”

  Translation: they had the rest of the evening to themselves. “And you’re wasting your time with me?”

  “Well, I’m hoping we can make this chat quick.” Then Zy’s levity died. “Kane said you didn’t look like you were in a good place mentally. Want to tell me about it?”

  Kane’s snitching pissed Trees off, even if the guy had meant well. “I don’t know whether Laila is trying to protect me from Ramos or sell me down the river to save herself.”

  “I hate to give you your own tough love, but the advice you gave me when I wasn’t sure about Tessa was spot on. You’re going to have to probe her for answers—whether that’s with your words or your dick is up to you. But you have to get to the bottom of whatever she’s up to. Not only does EM need the info but I know you. The uncertainty is killing you.”

  Sometimes he hated the way Zy could read his mind. “Yeah.”

  “Can you do some of your Dom stuff on Laila and make her talk?”

  “I tried. Not happening, at least not now. I’m too far gone, and I need answers too bad. So I’m sitting here with Victor Ramos’s phone, trying to decide if I really want to open this can of worms.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “Yeah.” He’d come to that conclusion, not only to see if it held any information about Laila’s allegiance but to discern Ramos’s whereabouts. The fucker was loose and dangerous.

  “Zy?” Trees heard Tessa call softly in the background. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

  “Be right there, baby,” his best friend replied.

  “Don’t worry about me, man. I’ll figure this out,” Trees assured. “Enjoy your evening with Tessa.”

  Zy let out a harsh breath. “With her dressed in lingerie like that, I definitely will. I don’t know what I did to deserve that woman, but I’m a lucky son of a bitch. Call me if you need me, okay?”

  “Sure.” But Trees wouldn’t. Zy had the love he deserved because he’d listened to his feelings and followed his heart. No matter what wrongdoing he’d suspected Tessa of, he’d led with his gut. And now he was living a happily ever after that made Trees envious as hell.

  Would he have the same outcome if he trusted his instincts, too? Or was Laila’s I love you just messing with his head?

  They ended the call, and Trees returned to the kitchen and dived back into Ramos’s phone. It took him less than three minutes to realize the asshole had done his best to mitigate the loss of the device. The emails had stopped delivering days ago. Half the social media accounts prompted him for new passwords, which he didn’t have. That was fine. It might take a few minutes, but he could hack in. Even without doing that, Trees would still be able to see everything Ramos had downloaded and saved to his cloud. At a glance, it looked like plenty—locations, past operations, future plans for taking over Montilla’s “throne.”

  Just like Laila had told him.

  If she’d been honest about Ramos’s scheme…maybe she’d been telling him the truth about everything.

  Trees wanted to roll with that theory so bad. But his feelings for Laila tangled his logic. If he had a little more evidence—anything to support this two-ton yearning dragging him under—he’d fuck the doubt, grab Laila in his arms, and never let go. But he couldn’t, not responsibly. It wasn’t just his life at stake. After Kimber’s kidnapping, he couldn’t discount the safety of the team and their loved ones, not to mention EM’s reputation. When it came to that woman, he wasn’t objective.

  But he knew someone who might be.

  Cursing, he set Ramos’s phone aside and reached for his own.

  Matt answered on the third ring. “Trees?”

  “Yeah. Sorry to bother you. How is everything out there?”

  “On your perimeter? Quiet. You can relax.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I need your two cents.”

  “Sure. About what? I’ll do my best.”

  Matt would. Trees didn’t know the other guy well, but he’d been solid while they’d traveled to Mexico. Hell, Matt had saved his damn life. “I’m calling to ask you about Laila. About what you saw and heard between her and Victor in La Pesca.”

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  He had to. If Laila had sacrificed herself for his safety, Trees needed to know. He also needed to know if she was lying to save her hide. “Yeah. What did you see? And hear? Where do you think she stands? Or I should say with whom?”

  Matt blew out a long breath. “When we first saw her, I was convinced she was playing you for Ramos’s benefit, but after the son of a bitch shot you, I had doubts.”

  Trees got that, but it didn’t tell him what he really wanted to know. “What do you think her feelings for Ramos are?”

  “Are you asking because you want to know what yours should be? Man, I can’t tell you how to feel about her.”

  “I’m not asking you to. I doubt I could stop loving her if I tried. I just don’t know if I can trust her.” Trees sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Thing is, she gave me this elaborate story to explain her backstab. It fits…but I’m not sure I believe it. I need a more objective perspective.”

  “I’ll be honest, I’ve gone back and forth a couple of times because Laila’s choices don’t add up. On the surface, what she told you—that she’s always belonged to Victor and loves the rough sex they have—seems like the most obvious scenario. But if that’s the case…then a lot of her other behavior makes no sense. I mean, she was emotional when you said you wanted her for life. And she kissed you like you were her everything. But the instant you insisted on rescuing her from Ramos, she turned on you and claimed he was her man and all that shit. If that was true, why did she do everything short of tackle you to keep you hidden from him? And why did she misdirect Ramos and focus his attention away from you and onto Montilla?”

  “I’ve had similar thoughts.” Trees squeezed the phone. “What happened after Ramos shot me?”

  “And you fell on your head? Dude, Laila sobbed like her world was ending. Then she dropped to her knees and did her best to stem your bleeding.”

  Also just as Laila had claimed. “Anything else?”

  “In retrospect, I gotta give her credit. She begged me silently to help you without giving away my position. She never asked for any help for herself. And when the mechanic came after you with a blowtorch, she nearly lost her shit. But she couldn’t help you. She tried. I overheard her offering herself like a sacrifice to Ramos forever if he would get you medical attention.”

  Trees sucked in a shocked breath. “You don’t think it was a ploy?”

  “How would that have helped her cause?” Matt challenged. “In the end, it didn’t matter because, after Ramos dragged her away by her hair, he accused her of being in love with you. That’s when I began to wonder if I’d been looking at the situation all wrong.”

  Trees understood. He was definitely wondering that now, too.

  “But then she sent you that shitty video of them in bed, and…I started questioning everything again.”

  So Matt couldn’t shed any light. Then again, the guy was right. Matt couldn’t tell him how to feel about Laila. As much as Trees hated it, he was either going to have to take a leap of faith or cut her out of his heart…somehow.

  “Same, but thanks for your opinion,” he told Matt. “I owe you, and not just for saving my life.”

  “You’re welcome. The Edgingtons have offered me a full-time gig if I want it. I’m past due to return to Wyoming, but…”

  “You’re thinking about staying?”

  He hesitated. “There’s nothing for me back there.”

  No friends? No family? No women falling all over themselves to be with a hot, hunky cowboy type? “Here ain’t a bad place, man.”

  “Different than where I came from. What about you? Every so often, I hear the South in your voice, but it’s not like any accent from these parts.”

  “I’m from coal mining country in West Virginia. Here’s really different. But I like it. The bosses can be tough, but they expect results. They only hire the best. I hope you’ll think about it. We’ve been short-staffed, and it wouldn’t suck to have you around. I wouldn’t be alive if you weren’t.”

  “Thanks. I’m definitely thinking about it. And I hope you figure this thing out with Laila soon. And I’ll stay diligent out here, because Ramos probably knows you’re alive by now and he’s out for your blood.”

  Trees figured as much. But what about Laila? That was the million-dollar question, and he didn’t have an answer. Either she was keeping him occupied so her lover could sneak up on him and blow his brains out or she’d been telling the truth about her power play to use Ramos as a pawn to weaken Montilla, keep her family safe, and protect the bodyguard who had fallen for her.

  He plucked up Ramos’s phone again, turning it in his hands. Laila hadn’t had this device when he’d run into her in La Pesca. And if she’d had a phone of her own, why would she have stolen Ramos’s? For the information on it? Maybe. But the more likely scenario was that she hadn’t had one of her own and had needed a way to contact her sister. She’d done that through a gaming app, right? Why choose that method if she had her own phone and could simply call or text? And if she hadn’t been carrying a phone then, that probably meant she’d used Ramos’s to film their fucking.