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.”