Page 177 of Sins of the Orchid
He reached to the side and flipped a switch, dim lights flickering as the inside of the barn lit up.
“Such high-tech security,” I mused. “We need more of it.”
He chuckled, pulling me along as we strode to the black Jeep Rubicon. Just being out of the woods felt better on my feet. Opening the door, he helped me climb into it. The relief was instant. I have never been so happy to sit.
“Let me check your feet,” he murmured, taking them into his hands.
“They are filthy,” I protested.
“I want to make sure there are no injuries.”
I rolled my eyes slightly annoyed but couldn’t help the fluttering feelings in my chest for his caring. His arm was injured, soaked in blood, yet he worried about my feet.
“Just cuts,” I muttered, extending my leg for his inspection.
“We’ll have to make sure to clean out your cuts when we get to our place,” he told me.
“I’m more worried about your wound, Santi.”
“We’ll patch each other up.” A smirk played on his face. “Maybe a steamy shower together.”
I rolled my eyes again, but my lips tugged up. At this rate, my eyeballs will be stuck in the back of my head and my lips in a permanent smile around this man. Only Santi succeeded in having me go from one extreme to another, from pain to pleasure, angry to laughing, sad to happy.
He got in, reached underneath the wheel, pulled out the key then started the ignition.
“You’ve got to love a Jeep,” he muttered. “Never fails me.”
“How long has this car been sitting here?” I questioned him. I was sure the battery would be dead.
“I try to make it here once a month to check on everything. I haven’t been in two months.”
“Lucky,” I muttered.
“About time,” he retorted back.
As he sped down the highway, he reached across and opened the glovebox. Nervous he would crash, I took his hand.
“Tell me what you are looking for.”
“Nervous, baby?” His smirk was doing all kinds of wrong… or right things to me.
I chuckled, despite my exhaustion. “I’d rather we don’t crash. I want a lot more sex before I die,” I insisted, smirking.
He laughed, deep and hearty. The sound made my heart swell with warmth and my pulse skipped a beat. God, I wanted to make him happy. No rhyme or reason, I just wanted to make him happy.
“There is a burner phone in there,” he said, his voice warm.
I dug through the glove compartment. It took me a few seconds before I got it and handed it to him.
“Thank you,” he said.
He turned it on and as he waited, I asked curiously. “Who are you calling?”
“Your father.”
It wasn’t what I expected. “Why?”
“I might be pissed off at him,” he deadpanned, “but he loves you, and if he hears about the attack, he’ll lose his mind. No sense in giving him a heart attack.”
