Enrique rises up and laughs.
“Fine, I’m up,” I say, crawling off the bed.
“There’s a coffee machine in the other room. Make use of it if you have to,” he says as he takes my place on top of the covers. He nods toward the little table by the chair where his broken bottle is. “Use mine, not yours if the worst happens.”
I give him a brief sneer at the subtle slight, but grab it all the same. Suddenly the thought of him being out cold while I stand watch as the only defense between him and whoever is after us seems daunting.
He’s on his back, one arm bent underneath his head as he looks at me. For once, there’s no teasing or challenging look in his gaze. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”
I just nod as he closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for his body to relax into sleep. I feel a smile touch my lips as I look at him. His face is so amazingly beautiful as he sleeps, especially with those dark lashes now settled against his cheeks. Even his nose is too adorable, with a tiny dented point at the end, almost matching the one in his chin. He’s like the male version of Sleeping Beauty, waiting to be awakened with a kiss. My eyes travel across his well-sculpted body, landing once again at the crotch of his jeans, thinking of another way he could be woken up.
This time I don’t feel so guilty having such thoughts. When death is on the line, morality becomes less of a priority.
I hold onto his broken bottle and head out to the other room.
Even though what little I have on was only first donned a few hours ago, it feels funky already. When he wakes up, I’m the first to get a shower, I don’t care what he says.
Or we could take one together.
I shiver with pleasure at the thought, letting it ripple through my body without hesitation.
After figuring out how to use the coffee machine and getting a cup going, I raid the minibar for food. I’m thrilled to find that there are also mini packs of pain relief pills. I guess the hotel knows its guests too well. I rip open one and swallow two pills down with some water. My stomach lurches at the idea of eating any of the food, no doubt another lingering side effect of that sangria. Those tapas aren’t sitting too well right now. Thankfully, the coffee seems to go down easily enough.
In retrospect, I needed that sleep more than I thought. I feel well-rested enough to think more clearly now.
It’s obvious that Enrique’s past misdeeds have finally caught up with him. And now we’re stuck on this island with that danger surrounding us.
Damn him.
I look out of the window. The sun is low in the sky now. By the time Enrique’s hour of sleep is up, it will be twilight. I’ve never been afraid of the dark, but now it seems foreboding. At least in the light of day, we can see them coming. I grip the neck of the broken bottle tighter, ready to fight to the death if need be.
I’d rather not think about being taken alive.
The fear keeps me awake and alert, such that I give Enrique much longer than an hour. It’s fully dark now, but I hear him stirring in the other room and rise from the sofa to go and greet him.
“Get a good sleep in?” I say with a smirk as I turn on the lights to the bedroom.
He squints at the sudden brightness, turning to look at the clock. “You didn’t wake me?”
“I’m nicer than you are,” I retort.
“Muchas gracias,” he says as he slowly rises and scoots off the bed.
“De nada,” I reply, earning me a look of mild surprise.
“How much Spanish do you actually know?”
“Bastante,” I reply, keeping it deliberately vague by telling him I know enough.
He smirks and tilts his head as if conceding the point.
“Since I was so nice, I get first dibs on a shower,” I insist.
His eyes wander down my body as though the same fleeting thought about showering together is crossing his mind.
“Alone.” I raise one eyebrow in warning.
Enrique laughs and shakes his head. “I think I’ve corrupted you enough for one day. Besides, someone has to keep watch. We certainly wouldn’t want the bad guys sneaking in and catching us in a compromising position.”
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, this time without a hint of pleasure in it.
“Go and take your shower, Diabla. Wash the sins of the day away,” he says with a smirk. “I’ll just have to wait out here using my imagination. Or I could just pull out my phone if that doesn’t work.”
I twist my lips in anger and flip him the middle finger before spinning on my heels and heading toward the bathroom.
I slam the door shut on him laughing.
Chapter Twenty-Five Enrique
Leira certainly takes long enough in the shower. Just when I’m beginning to worry that maybe she’s drowned in there, she comes out wearing one of the hotel bathrobes with her hair up in a towel.
“Are you sure it was just a shower you took in there?”
She silently flips me her middle finger again by way of answering. I suppose she’s still a bit sore. I laugh and head into the bathroom to take a shower of my own.
“Qué mierda!” I hiss when I finally enter.
It’s a mess. My shirt, her bra, and underwear hang from the shower rod. Wet towels lie in piles on the floor, completely used. There’s exactly one clean washcloth left hanging. I’m sure that was deliberate, just to annoy me. Fog still steams the mirror. All of the available
