Page 57 of Rogue Voice

After the meal, Slate brought out dessert—a Colombian coffee cake, cut into slices as thick as three of her fingers, which he placed on four plates and slid in their direction. Bea looked at the plate in front of her. Her throat constricted, and suddenly she wasn’t getting enough air. Because, intellectually, she understood this piece was for her, that she could eat it, but the instinct to push it away was so strong, it was hard to keep her hands steady.

She looked up, and found Rogue staring at her, his jaw clenched tight. The expression on his face grew determined as he picked up his slice of coffee cake and took a bite, daring her to do the same. Bea swallowed through the lump in her throat and imitated him, taking a small bite. The taste of coffee, cinnamon and sugar exploded in her mouth, but her real reward was Rogue’s smile, which lit up the room.

“Slate and I will take watch tonight,” Dark said as soon as the dishes were clean. Slate stood up to go with him.

Rogue made as if to stand up as well. “Hold on. I can?—”

“No. You’re still not back to full strength, Rogue. You and Bea should get some rest.”

25

Rogue

“What were you and Slate talking about, when I came downstairs earlier?” Rogue asked once they were finally alone in their cabin.

“Things,” Bea said vaguely. “I wanted to make sure he was aware of the risk he was running by helping me.”

“He knows, honey. He knows.”

“That’s what he said.”

“Dark and Slate are good men. If anything happens to me, they’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Bea’s face paled. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“It won’t,” he said. “But if it does, you stick with them. I promise you’ll be safe.”

Safe.

That word, again. She hadn’t felt safe in so long. She’d felt safe with her father, when she was a little girl, before she’d been shipped off to convent school. But even that safety might have been an illusion. Given enough time, her father might have married her off for the benefit of some alliance, just like Uncle Emiliano had tried to do.

The last week had been one of the happiest of her life. Her breath hitched as she realized that, if Rogue and Slate hadn’t stopped it, she would have spent it with Aguilar instead.

“What are you thinking about, Bea?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

“Come here,” he said, bringing her into his arms. She came easily, her slim body aligning perfectly with his. “Everything’s going to be fine, honey. I’m going to keep you safe.”

“You feel so right,” she said, squeezing him. “I’ve decided, I’m not going to worry about the future tonight.”

Her hand grazed down his T-shirt, feeling its way to his belt buckle. He felt his cock swelling and put out a hand to stop her.

“Honey. What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m picking up where we left off.”

Hell.

“I don’t think?—”

“You heard what your friends said,” she said, rising onto her tiptoes until her lips were close to his ear. “We should get somerest.”

She pulled away and took off her tank top, standing in front of him in a simple cotton bra and a pair of denim shorts hanging off her slim hips.

“What do you say, Rogue?”

Double hell.Even if he were a stronger man, she was impossible to resist. “I think …” His mind wasn’t working well enough to finish that sentence.

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