Page 54 of Devil Mine

“Go back to London,” I order. “I trust you more than anyone. You can be my boots on the ground presence while I run things from here. If things start going tits up, I promise I’ll go back.”

Arturo steps up to me, clapping me on the shoulder. The tension between us has gone, as quick to dissipate as it was to appear.

“With all due respect, no. I’m not leaving you here,” he says, before adding with a hint of a smile. “Someone needs to keep you in check so you don’t start shooting into crowds if we don’t find her soon. Have Marco go back and forth.”

I clap him on the shoulder in silent thanks and he pulls me into a paternal hug.

“Jefe,” Joaquín, calls as he walks into the bedroom. “Julio just called. Apparently there’s a record of a Caroline Mason getting on a flight to Rome an hour ago.”

I look at Arturo and he nods.

“I’ll get the plane ready, destination: Italy.”

???

One week later, exactly one hour before a full seven days have passed and her window to hold up her end of our deal has elapsed, Tess calls again.

It’s from an unknown number, but I know it’s her.

“You’re cutting it close,” I rumble, picking up.

“Were you waiting anxiously by the phone?” she snarks in return, her breathy voice doing absolute numbers inside me.

“Something like that,” I say with a smirk that she can’t see. “Turn on your camera.”

“No,” she answers firmly. “I know that’s how you found me last time, I pieced it together after you hung up. I’m not falling for it again.”

“Clever girl,” I purr, the praise ringing clearly in my voice. “Put yourself against a blank wall indoors if you’re afraid then. If there’s no information in your background, there’s nothing for me to trace you with.”

“Then why do you want me to turn on my camera?”

“I want to see you. Don’t you want to see me?”

“No.”

I chuckle, the sound deep. “Liar.”

A video request comes through and then she’s on my screen, as close to in the flesh as I’ve seen her in weeks.

Her hair is up in a ponytail, her makeup is light but shiny, making her look young and innocent. Pink bowtie earrings adorn both her ears.

“I’m not a liar,” she exclaims, immediately hissing in a breath when she lays eyes on me. “Why–why are you…?”

“Shirtless?”

She nods, eyes fixed on my chest, her throat working overtime to swallow. “Yes.”

I lean backwards into the high-backed desk chair of this office so she can get a good view of my bare torso. Her eyes trace slowly down the expanse of my chest, examining the tattoos and scars with obvious interest. They flare sharply when her gaze falls on the defined muscles of my abdomen and the fine trail of hair that disappears down into the waistband of my trousers.

“I wanted you to see what’s yours,” I answer throatily, my voice like velvet.

“By default,” she mutters bitterly.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she adds quickly, dismissing me with a wave.

Her gaze moves back to my bare torso like she can’t seem to look away. Her eyes glaze over and she absentmindedly licks her lips, her expression turning almost ravenous.

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