Barefoot With A Stranger by Roxanne St. Claire

Author:Roxanne St. Claire [St. Claire, Roxanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: South Street Publishing
Published: 2015-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Mar Brisas was even worse than Mal had feared.

The hostel had a shower in the hall that offered a dribble of water, a used bar of soap that smelled a lot like a goat, and a towel the size of a napkin. But at least he could wash off the mud and clear his head after a long drive to Caibarién.

Maybe Mother Nature had been sending a message with her flash flood: Bad idea, Mal. This woman deserves better than hopeless sex.

How did his nice little arrangement manage to get a handle like that anyway? She’d called it hopeless sex…but she seemed pretty hopeful to get it. And he was starting to entertain something that felt a lot like hope, too. Like hope there could be more time with her after this assignment was over. Which didn’t make any sense.

Except now he didn’t just like her or have the hots for her, he admired her.

Plenty of experienced intelligence agents couldn’t have handled the mess they’d gotten into last night. But an untrained civilian? Any effects of the rum had instantly disappeared, and she’d silently dressed and helped him navigate the dark drive, working as a dependable partner in every way.

She hadn’t complained when they pulled up to a “hotel” in a town that was little more than a decrepit village famous for crabs that walked around on the streets narrowly avoiding being crushed by the horses and carriages that were as common as old rust-bucket cars.

Yes, he admired her. That wasn’t the same as—

“No mas! Basta!”

Mal squinted into the lukewarm, slightly yellowish water that he was being ordered to stop using. If it even was water. But he shut off the spigot and dried.

He stepped into jeans, the only thing he’d grabbed from his duffel bag when he left Chessie in their basement room down the hall. He didn’t want to leave her alone for long, anyway. It wasn’t safe. And it wasn’t…what he wanted.

Shaking the thought along with his wet hair, he headed back, slowing when he noticed the door was slightly ajar. Had he left it that way? Inching it open, he peered into the room lit by only a hint of the morning sun coming through one jalousie window near the ceiling.

The bed was empty. Damn it, that was exactly where he wanted her. Now.

He spun around, wondering if there was another room that she’d taken. She hadn’t even blinked when the owner told Mal they had only one available room. Another bathroom? She’d taken a shower first, right after they’d arrived, and warned him that the only bathroom had lousy water and the owner timed the showers.

Mal took two steps to the bed, since the room was not much bigger than the undersized double bed, spying her soft-sided bag, but not her purse. There was no closet, no other door.

Why would she leave? A slow burn of worry slid up his chest, overpowering anything like disappointment or frustration. Maybe he shouldn’t have left her alone even for five minutes.

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