Items in hand, Trees faced the door and raised his arms. She found herself staring again at the ridges and ripples of his body.

  Suddenly, he stopped, sighed, and faced her. “Just so there’s no misunderstanding, I’m installing a lock on the door.”

  She frowned. “Does it not already have one?”

  “Since you don’t want me to use the leather cuffs on you again, this isn’t to keep others out but to keep you in.”

  That filled her with panic. Even if he hadn’t taken advantage of her this morning, he still intended to imprison her. “No.”

  “I can’t have you running again, so I want to be crystal clear. I’m only trying to prevent you from fleeing and putting yourself in danger while my back is turned. I’m not locking you in because I intend to force myself on you.”

  So he claimed. Even if he meant that, he was still subjugating her and subverting her free will. “You will not cuff me to the car door or the nightstand again?”

  “Nope.”

  “You promise you will not use the cuffs on me at all,” she demanded, then nearly laughed at herself. He might be a less criminal man than Victor, but that didn’t make his word worth more.

  “I promise. I won’t…unless you ask me to.”

  She scoffed. “I will never do that.”

  “I believe you.” Regret crossed his face. “And that’s a pity.”

  Laila frowned as she stumbled into her shorts, still staring at his broad back as he held up the part to the door with one hand, then sorted through the tools, now spread out across the table, with the other. There was no sense in asking him to explain, and she shouldn’t care, but… “What do you mean?”

  He turned to her with a sigh. “You know the cuffs are for sexual play. I can guess how Victor used them on you, but I would never do that.”

  “Then why have them at all?”

  “I only engage in play that’s consensual. If any woman says no, that means no. Hard stop.”

  Laila eyed him. “You want me to believe that, if any woman refused you, that you would leave her untouched?”

  “Yes.”

  “Without violence?”

  “Of course.” He sounded as if that was obvious.

  “Without anger?”

  “I wouldn’t be angry. Frustrated, maybe. But—”

  “You would not force her?”

  “Never.”

  He believed that—at least in his own mind. Laila wasn’t convinced. “Then why restrain a woman to your bed at all?”

  His eyes flared with heat again. “Some like it.”

  “Impossible.” Surely he lied.

  “Oh, they do.”

  And so did he. His face and the engorging of his erection again said so.

  Why would a woman want to be manacled to a man’s bed and held down while he did…whatever he pleased? “I do not believe you.”

  The buzzing of his phone interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. He scowled and pulled it from his pocket. “Zy. Talk to me.”

  There was a long pause, and she could hear another man’s muffled voice.

  Trees nodded before the other man even finished speaking. “Roger that.” Then he flicked a glance her way. “I’ll let Laila know.” Another pause. “Fine. Yeah, I’ll check in later. Thanks.”

  Then he hung up, and Laila was relieved to have a change of subject. “Do you have news about my family?”

  He nodded. “They’ve arrived at their safe house after driving all night. Valeria and the boy are sleeping now. Your sister will call you later.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Someplace safe.”

  Laila had heard that tripe before. Why wouldn’t he tell her where EM Security had hidden her family, unless they intended to keep her and Valeria apart so they could use the separation to control her? After all, Emilo had been a master at that.

  As soon as her sister had rested, she would call and verify Trees’s claim—then make plans accordingly.

  Trees turned his attention back to the lock he meant to install on the door, and she thought through the situation. What if he lied? What if he intended to use his restraints on her? What if she needed to escape?

  She couldn’t let him install that lock.

  Trembling, Laila approached, touching her fingertips to solid concrete muscle over the surprisingly supple skin of his back. “You can stop. Installing that is not necessary.”

  “I think it is.”

  “What if I promised I would not escape?” And she meant that…at least for now.

  “You’d be lying, and I’d be forced to cuff you again.”

  “No. After last night, I know Victor will not give up easily and that I am safer with you.”

  He hesitated. “I can’t take that chance.”

  “Please. I would feel safer if I was not being kept prisoner. But if you lock me up against my will, I will always be afraid.”

  Trees hesitated, then sighed before he shoved everything back into the bag. “Son of a bitch. Fine. But I’m watching you. One more attempt to get free, and I won’t hesitate to both lock you in and cuff you to whatever the fuck I need to, whenever the fuck I want to, until you realize that you have to stay. Are we clear?”

  “Of course.” What else could she say?

  “All right.” He shoved the bag away. “If I even suspect you’re trying to escape me, I’m warning you now. I’ll be all over you until you beg me for mercy. And I won’t have any.”

  A day and a half later, Laila was still trying to understand Trees. Except the handful of hours he had driven to reach this campground in Nowhere, Alabama, he never took his stare off her. He watched her as she ate, as she paced the RV with nervous energy, as she talked on the phone to her sister. He stood guard outside the bathroom while she brushed her teeth or washed her face. He glared as she yawned and fought to keep her eyes open, then he ignored her protests that she wasn’t tired and carried her to bed—cursing her stubbornness—eventually invading the uncomfortably small mattress and lying beside her to shield her with his big body.

  A few times, he tried to initiate conversation, asking about her sister, Jorge, or her childhood. For what reason did he need to know those things? To use the information against her? He claimed he was curious, but why? Sometimes, she answered. Mostly, she ignored Trees, pretending she never noticed him at all—not that such a thing was possible.

  But he hadn’t touched her, despite the fact he clearly wanted to.

  That confused Laila. They both knew she couldn’t stop him. If he violated her, she could tell her sister, of course. But it would be too late. Then again, maybe Valeria would see that as a small price for her to pay to escape Victor and Hector Ramos for good. In some ways, she would be right.

  Much to Laila’s relief, Trees had also tucked away his soft leather cuffs, probably somewhere in his bag. She was grateful…but she couldn’t forget his threat. If she “misbehaved,” he would use them against her will. Would she even have to give him a reason? A couple of days ago, she would have said no. Today? He’d kept his promise so far. Maybe that meant something.

  Maybe not.

  “Hungry?” he asked from the front seat as he parked on an empty pad in the campground and cut the engine.

  His idea of a meal seemed to be lots of eggs or chicken with a steady diet of broccoli and rice. She wasn’t accustomed to eating so much or so often, even if the fresh, hot food that she hadn’t had to cook was good. “No.”

  He glanced at his phone. “It’s five o’clock. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  And he had—twice. Where did he put all that food?

  She shrugged. “I am not hungry.”

  “Not eating isn’t good for you.” He pocketed the RV key and headed her way, looming above her while she sat at the dining table.

  “Neither is eating too much. Why are we stopping here? When will you take me to my sister?”

  “When we’ve made sure the safe house is actually safe.”

  “EM Security has yet to manage that feat. When did safety begin to matter?”

  He sighed. “It always did, Laila.”

  “Then why did my brother-in-law and his men find all the houses your organization swore were safe?”

  “We’re working overtime to figure that out. Don’t worry.”

  “Because I should simply trust you—a man I have known for two days?” She raised a brow. “What happens if I choose not to concern myself and the cartel finds me and my family again? Should I also not worry as they drag Valeria and me into the desert to make a quick end of us, then raise Jorge to be a criminal?”

  Trees scowled. “Don’t worry about it because, other than protecting you, figuring this out is my sole focus. I won’t let anything happen.”

  He’d said such things before. Some foolish part of her wanted to believe him, but life had proven that no one would solve her problems but her. It seemed clear that someone in EM Security Management was selling their secrets to Emilo’s men. Valeria didn’t want to believe that, but Laila knew. Until that problem was addressed, they were all in danger.

  “And you’re changing the subject,” he pointed out. “Skipping dinner isn’t acceptable. Tell me what you want. I’ll do my best to make it.”

  Victor and Hector had always expected her to cook for them before one or the other—or both—stripped her down and violated her. Trees had prepared his own meals when she had not been hungry. That had surprised her, but the fact he wasn’t forcing her to do what Victor considered “women’s work” shocked her far more.

  “Carne asada.” That’s what she wanted—not that she expected him to actually make it.

  “I’ll do my best. Why don’t you take a shower?”

  “I am fine.”

  “It’s been nearly two days since you bathed.” He dropped his voice to that low, silky tone she found difficult to disobey. “It wasn’t a request.”

  “Will you force me?”

  He scowled. “Have I truly forced you to do anything against your will?”

  Not really. In that, he was light years better than Victor and Hector. But that didn’t automatically make him a good guy. “What if I refuse?”

  “I’ll take your phone so you can’t speak to your sister tonight.”

  Laila fumed. Trees wasn’t forcing her in a physical sense, but he was coercing her to choose between her family and her sense of safety. That was no choice at all. Laila needed to hear that her sister and her nephew were well far more than she needed to protect herself.

  “All right.”

  She made her way to Jorge’s diaper bag, where she had stowed her other outfit she had washed by hand last night. Then she retreated to the bathroom, half expecting Trees would barge his way into the little room and take advantage of her while she was naked and vulnerable, despite supposedly being one of the “good guys”—if there was such a thing.

  Laila rushed through her shower, but his intrusion never came. When she stepped out of the enclosure to towel off, the scent of grilling meat and spices filled her nose. She wriggled into her clothes, then wrapped a towel around her clean hair and whisked the bathroom door open. Trees hunched over the kitchen counter, chopping peppers as steak sizzled on the griddle pan he’d set over the gas burners.

  He turned to her with a half grin. “Smell good?”

  Delicious, but that wasn’t what grabbed Laila’s attention. She had not seen Trees smile before. It transformed the most forbidding lines of his hard face into something both beautiful and almost boyish.

  Had she just found a man attractive?

  “It does.”

  “I didn’t have all the ingredients, and I didn’t have a couple of hours to marinate the meat, but the recipe I found online called for a sauce I hope will give it some kick. We should be ready to eat in a few minutes.” He reached into a nearby cabinet. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  While he cooked?

  She did. He said nothing for the next five minutes, simply focused on the meat hissing in the pan while he opened a can of refried beans and spiced it up with salsa.

  It wasn’t long before he moved the food onto a pair of plates, along with a lime he’d sliced, and turned back to her. “Wine?”

  “Why?” The Ramos brothers had only given her alcohol to lower her resistance in bed.

  “Isn’t it supposed to be good with the meal?”

  “You do not drink it yourself?”

  “Not while I’m working, but there’s no reason you can’t.”

  Laila wouldn’t make taking advantage of her easy. “I would rather not.”

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “Can you grab us some water?”

  As he set the plates on the table, she retrieved two bottles from the refrigerator, then eased onto the bench again. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d been until he set the meal in front of her.

  Quickly, she spread her napkin across her lap, then forked a tender bite into her mouth. Flavor burst on her taste buds. He’d managed to capture the perfect blend of citrus, smokiness, and spices. A moan slipped out before she could stop it.

  “You like it?”

  Laila opened the eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed to find Trees across the table where they inadvertently knocked knees, staring at her like her opinion mattered. “It is good.”

  The smile his face had hinted at mere moments ago became a full-blown grin. “I’m glad. Eat up.” He lifted his own fork and dug in, biting into his first morsel with an appreciative nod. “You’re right. It’s decent.”

  It was better than that. As Laila dug into her plate, questions nagged her. “Why did you cook for me?”

  He frowned. “We had to eat, right?”

  “I mean why did you cook something I like? Why are you being nice?”

  Trees looked even more confused. “We’re on the same team, remember?”

  “What team is that?”

  “Team Save Laila,” he said as if it was obvious, then he set his fork down. “Look, I can only imagine what happened to you in Emilo’s compound. I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. But I’m not Victor.”

  So far, no. But… “You are on my team simply because you are paid. I have no illusion that if he or his brother, Hector, paid you more, you would develop different allegiances.”

  He stilled, then leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “I wouldn’t. This is my job, but I don’t do it just for money. I have the size and skills to protect people. That’s my goal. I have five younger sisters. If any of them experienced anything close to what you did, I would be on the rampage to fuck up some assholes and put them six feet under.”

  That sounded noble—unbelievably so. She had never met a man who was more motivated by morals than money. But calling him a liar served no purpose, so she focused on the spiced steak.

  Suddenly, he took her hand between his huge palms. She jerked her gaze to his, frozen by the heat of his touch.

  “You don’t believe me, and I understand why. But I swear I’m not the enemy.”

  That didn’t automatically make him her ally, either. Slowly, he released her. She sensed his frustration.

  “I know being here with me isn’t what you wanted or imagined,” he went on. “I’m a stranger, and it’s uncomfortable. I’m pretty sure you’re still looking for ways to give me the slip. But you need to stay close to me. We both know Victor won’t give up looking for you.”

  “He will not.” Victor’s ego couldn’t tolerate being bested by anyone, especially the woman he’d subjugated for years.

  “There may come a time when your life depends on you trusting me to save you.”

  Perhaps…but doing that would never be easy.

  The buzzing of her temporary mobile broke the tense silence between them. She hopped up from her seat, ignoring the strange flare of heat when her legs brushed his again, and plucked up her little device from the front seat.

  “Are you well, hermana?” she asked her sister in Spanish.

  “I am fine. But Jorge…” Valeria sounded both exhausted and teary. “He is burning up. He falls asleep but will not stay asleep. He is cranky and listless and keeps tugging at his ears.”

  Another ear infection. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Twenty-four hours…but it is getting worse.”

  Which explained why Laila had barely heard from her.

  “Remember the last time this happened?” Valeria wailed.

  Laila couldn’t forget. Late in the fall, his fever has spiked so high they had been forced to rush him to the ER. The possibility of that happening again ratcheted up her concern, but she had to calm her sister. “Do not assume it will be that severe again. What is his temperature?”

  “I do not know. I forgot to ask for a thermometer. Zyron brought me liquid ibuprofen when I saw him this afternoon, but I am worried.” She erupted into more tears.

  “Take a deep breath. When you panic, Jorge senses your distress.”

  “I know. I am trying…” Valeria sobbed.

  “Does he have any other symptoms?”

  “He is congested, and he has a cough—just like last time.”

  Her answer worried Laila even more, but she kept that to herself. “He needs antibiotics.”

  “We have none. Even if I did, you know how he spits out medicine. He did it with his last dose of ibuprofen.”

  A big reason Jorge had needed to go to the hospital, so he could have medicine intravenously. “Keep trying.”

  “Of course. But what if I fail? What if his fever goes up again? Taking him to a doctor may give away our location.” Valeria dissolved into tears again.

  Laila couldn’t leave her sister to handle this alone. “Where are you?”

  “Lafayette, Louisiana. In an apartment.”

  How many hundreds of miles away was that? Why had EM Security taken Valeria so far from her? “Hang on. I will be there as quickly as I can.”

  She could help nurse Jorge and support her weary sister. Hopefully that would keep her nephew out of the hospital.

  “Trees is bringing you here? Oh, thank goodness.”

  “He has not said when. If he is not going straight there, I will find you on my own.”