Ex’s final word registered at last. “What do you mean
mostly
? Did you see something?”
“Nothing unusual. The new bravo walks out of the valley fairly often. Not every night, but always after lights-out.”
Fear and betrayal slammed through her and stole her breath. What if he was meeting someone? For the first time since she’d left the store, she hoped it was for sex. If she caught Chris giving information to their enemies, she’d have to execute him.
And I don’t want to.
Dios, no. Not Cristián.
But with a hot, sick feeling in her gut, she remembered the first time Brick had come across him. Chris had been watching their raid on the highway. Since then, the regular activity of their rivals had been changed up. The attack on the town. More trucks luring them beyond the town’s defenses. The dummy shipment. The girls he’d somehow found.
What if he’d done everything to gain her trust, only to use it against the whole town now that he was a bravo?
“How long has this been going on?”
“The last week or so.” Ex fiddled with a closed switchblade like a smoker who missed holding a cigarette. “I thought you knew.”
She bit off a low, virulent curse. “What route does he take?”
Ex succinctly laid out the course, which led out to the west. She remembered a hidden trail out that way. Her heart lifted a little. Maybe it was just for sex, a partner who didn’t want anyone to find out what she was doing.
Like Singer.
The girl had trusted him with her bike, which she loved better than most humans. She’d flirted with him too, in that sweet, casual way of hers. If it
was
Singer, at least that made Chris a filthy old bastard, not a traitor. But Brick would make a testicle necklace out of the first man to touch his little sister. Rosa had to find out before he did.
With a wave for Ex, she made her way back down and out of camp, following the worn goat track behind the tall rocks. At night it was very dark in the valley; she felt swallowed up by shadows. Slipping away was like shedding her skin. She was on an errand that would affect her people, but being out of their sight for just a few moments was oddly freeing.
Rosa picked along the rocks with cautious but rhythmic steps. The ancient path was only for the surefooted. It led nowhere except to a bluff honeycombed with caverns where native tribes once made their homes. All the way she wrestled with disturbing possibilities, but she couldn’t be sure unless she verified it personally. Her leadership couldn’t withstand another mistake so soon, not when she had used Chris’s initiation to firm up allegiances. Unexpectedly and unpleasantly, her position depended on him.
On him being the man she’d hoped he was.
Rosa crept quietly up to the caves, just shallow cuts into the mountainside. Although she heard no human sounds, she knew he was there. Taking a breath, her hand on the hilt of her knife in case he kept hostile company, she peeked inside.
The scene within made her go still.
Chris sat alone inside a small, close cave. He had created a livable camp with a few essential belongings—not his satchel full of medicines, but his initiation basket, a solar-powered lantern, and blankets.
Rosa watched him, the line of his neck bowed low, as he shifted against the cave wall.
He was
reading
.
He’d retreated, but he’d taken her gift with him.
She meant to slip away silently, but some sound gave her away. Or maybe he just
knew
with that awful link between them.
Without looking up, he said, “Done spying on me?”
Rosa stepped into the mouth of the cave with a casual shrug. “I had to be sure your behavior didn’t pose a threat to Valle.”
“Makes sense.” His tone was casual, but his eyes snapped sparks in the soft light. “It’s what you care about, your town. But I bet it doesn’t keep you warm at night.” He marked his page and set the book aside. Every movement was slow, controlled, edged with friction. “You’re too afraid of getting close. You might get hurt again, and you fear they’ll see that you’re not an alabaster Madonna—that you need and want and
feel
. I tell you, it was a hard thing to realize you’re a coward.”
She swallowed hard, her accent thickening. “
Basta.
You don’t know nothing about me.”
“That’s because you’re scared to death of what might happen if I did.”
“Fuck you.”
“Anytime, Rosita. I’m open for business.”
That last word struck a nerve. Did he know? She took two steps back, quick anger warring with hurt and fear. Sex had only ever been a transaction. Nothing more. She’d learned what men wanted as a means of survival. It had never been something she wanted for herself, except in dreams, when he looked at her with haunted hazel eyes, asking for something she might not be able to give.
The tautness of his features softened, as if he glimpsed her pain in the dim light. Damn him, he saw too much.
“Don’t be like this. I had to check. It’s my job.”
“Or you could
trust
me.”
“I do,” she said softly. “As much as I can anyone. But I thought . . .”
“What?”
“That you were meeting someone.”
His mouth tightened. He pulled his knees up and rested his forearms there. “On my watch earlier, I thought I saw something out this way. But I checked all over and didn’t find anything.”
He’d been acting to protect Valle. His vow mattered to him. Those revelations sent relief streaming through her, as cool and welcome as a wind blowing down from the mountains. She didn’t want him to be the man who walked away when things got tough. To her dismay, she wanted to believe him when he said he’d changed. But she didn’t know if she could withstand the disappointment of being wrong.
“Thank you.”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “And sometimes I don’t want to be in town.”
“But why stay out here?”
“Too many people. I’m not used to it.”
She enjoyed the company of her bravos, but after long years alone, he probably found it hard to be surrounded by voices and movement all the time. Another piece of him clicked into place, ringing true. In silence, Rosa watched the play of light and shadow across his face, and in her head, she confessed the truth.
I wanted to see you. I hate that I was jealous. Why, why do you matter, Cristián?
“I have something to tell you about this morning,” she said.
“Oh?”
Tentatively she eased to the ground and sat at the edge of his blankets. The rock felt cool beneath her fingertips. She’d never shared such an intimate space with a man, and it didn’t feel natural. Yet for Chris’s sake, maybe for them both, she’d try. On a soft puff of breath, she explained her reasons for sending him to the watchtower.
Chris was still frowning, but the tension around his mouth eased. “So you wanted me up there.
Me
. Nobody else.” He sounded hopeful, as if being needed was his drug of choice.
“I believed you wouldn’t permit a threat to pass under any circumstances.” And there it was, a blind and naked thing, the nascent trust. “You wouldn’t sabotage me or want me to appear weak.”
“I never would,” he said with a bashful grin. “I like your strength.”
A ripple of energy flickered between them, almost visible to the naked eye. It robbed her of breath, like a sudden fall into deep water. Terrifying, but also exhilarating. His troubled hazel gaze locked on hers, as mysterious as a desert night but without the same chill. Instead she saw only his warmth.
“Do you feel that?” she asked unsteadily.
Chris nodded. Her explanations seemed to have leached his anger, but the intensity remained. He trained his considerable powers of concentration on her, making her restless. With unspeakable daring, she reached out a hand and touched his biceps, wondering whether the contact would conjure a raging beast. He merely studied her fingers on his skin as if they held the key to a puzzle he was determined to solve.
“I think that’s the first time you’ve touched me on purpose. While I’m actually awake.”
“Why are we dreaming about each other?”
“The change is probably behind it.” The resignation in his posture didn’t seem natural. The scientist in him must have taken years to make even that much peace with the unexplained. “I can’t pretend to understand half the things I’ve seen.”
I shouldn’t know how it feels to make love with him.
But her body did, remembering things that hadn’t yet come to pass. She went slick and hot, aching for him. Rosa shifted on the blanket. Need rose in her in an undeniable madness, so that she curled her hands into fists and tightened her thighs.
“I don’t like this,” she whispered. “It feels like I can’t control my body.”
“Because you want me?”
“Sí.”
The air in the cave was sultry, as if their presence generated more heat than the stone could absorb. By lamplight she saw the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Her simple admission of desire had unwoven his steady focus. She’d gotten to him. His reaction made her feel so . . .
powerful
. As did the relief that he hadn’t gone looking for some other soft body to slake his longing.
“I want to kiss you again,” he said, the words quiet but strong. “I can’t promise I’ll stop there, but I won’t make love to you unless you want it as much as I do. Will you come to me, Rosita? Will you let me touch you?”
The icy dagger in her chest melted. No man had ever asked to give her pleasure. Before Chris, she wouldn’t have thought it possible. The curve of his upper lip called to her, inciting a craving she no longer wanted to control. Making up her mind, she knee-walked to him. She didn’t tense when he drew her onto his lap.
His hard cock pressed against her bottom as she settled against him, but his conscious movements remained smooth, slow, patient. He wound his arms about her loosely and lowered his head to hers, lips seeking a delicate caress. She gasped a little at the soft heat. Who knew it could be so gentle and slow?
Ay, Dios.
Chris brushed his tongue against hers—a tease and a promise. His hands didn’t wander; they remained tender and light at her shoulder and waist.
Rosa hummed a sound against his mouth, relaxing into the kiss. This was different from the last one they’d shared. Less crazed. More deliberate. And she loved it. He teased his tongue past her lips, but she didn’t know what to do.
He whispered against her mouth, “Suck. Softly.”
Such a command should have been embarrassing, but the moment gained intimacy. He didn’t laugh at her lack of expertise or ask why she couldn’t kiss. Lazy spirals of desire made her want to straddle him and slowly rub against him like a cat. He nipped her lower lip, then drew his mouth down the side of her throat. His caress was absolutely delicious. Tingles sprang up in places she hadn’t known could feel so good.
“I like this,” she breathed against the bristles of his jaw.
“A little more?”
That was the difference between this man and every other. Cristián asked; he didn’t take. He was someone she could enjoy without fear. Someone worthy.
Her slow smile felt like a sunrise of the soul. “
Sí, por favor.
A little more.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Beyond obvious reasons, Chris was thankful for the erotic dream he’d shared with Rosa. It gave him incentive to take it slow. He would stay strong and re-create that pleasure—making it real for the first time.
Because holding her, truly holding her, pulled apart his control.
He settled his mouth over hers again, more forcefully this time, but with a slowness that made inhuman demands. She tentatively flicked her tongue against his lower lip. Chris rewarded her by opening to her curious exploration. He made every escalation hers to determine.
As if sensing that encouragement, her body melted against his chest. She was finally giving in. Finally giving him permission.
Chris closed his eyes. Her touch was light, her kisses shy, but she unraveled him. He settled in for a long battle, his mind against his body. For Rosa’s sake, for the sake of their tentative trust, his mind needed to win.
Only when she made a little sound of frustration in the back of her throat did Chris bring a hand up to her nape. The heaviness of her skull nestled in his palm. He extended his fingers up into her hair. She pulled back just enough to rip the tie off the end of her braid. Then she found his mouth again, renewing an exploration that grew bolder by the moment.
Using both hands, Chris loosened her braid. Dark hair spilled over her shoulders. His touch gentle, he pushed at her shoulders, holding her at a little less than arm’s length.
Questions twisted her brow.
“Relax,” he said with a soft laugh. “Okay? Try? I just want to look at you.”