Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(44)

Her eyes widened, suspicion rampant on her face as she glanced at the strip of condoms he’d dropped on the table earlier.

“They’re props,” he assured her quickly. “If you talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk to convince the bad guys. Trust me,” he whispered again, and nodded toward the tent wall.

He saw the moment she understood. Just like the condoms, this was for show. Whoever was out there would see their shadows and assume they were watching a man having his way with a woman.

Very gingerly, she moved toward him and settled herself sideways on his lap, her right side pressing against his chest.

She was tall and lean, and while she’d doubtless dropped some weight during her captivity he was very much aware that she still had plenty of curves.

“That’s more like it, baby.” Even if the guards didn’t understand English, they’d recognize his lewd tone. “How about a little gratitude for getting you out of your cage for the night?”

She stiffened but let him pull her against him.

“Easy,” he whispered, pressing his mouth against her ear and trying not to think about her firm ass nestled up tight against his groin. “Once we make our break, we have to head through some rough territory. In this climate, in this terrain, even a small cut is ripe for infection.”

She turned her face toward him, her mouth very near his. Anyone outside watching their shadows would think she was letting him kiss her. “When? When are we leaving?”

The anxious edge in her voice made it clear she wanted him to say “now.”

“When I say it’s time.” He ran his hand over her hair to enhance the visual, then stroked her shoulder and reached down to her thigh. “Now I need to look at those ribs.”

She stiffened involuntarily and he made himself slow down.

“You trust Wyatt, right?”

She swallowed, then nodded.

“And he trusts me to get you out of here. You need to follow his lead. Let’s just get this over with so we can move on.”

She closed her eyes and, in what must have taken formidable effort, lifted her right arm and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Progress. Only he was the one shaken now. He’d asked for her trust and now that he had it, it felt like a Mack truck had just parked on his shoulders.

“What about the others?” she asked tentatively. “When we go, we can’t just leave them here.”

Cav had already thought about releasing the workers, creating a little pandemonium to buy them some time, and then he’d thought better of it.

“If we release them when we make our break, it will wake up the entire camp. The guards will come out shooting and a lot of people will get gunned down. We’ll do more harm than good.” He saw the compassion in her eyes and felt regret in his gut.

“But—”

“No discussion, Carrie. We go out alone tonight. But I promise you this: I’ll be back.” He had made that decision the moment he’d set foot on the mining site. When the time was right he would get these poor souls out of here. Until then, he’d be haunted by the dead eyes that had looked right through him.

“Take it to the bank,” he assured her. “I’ll be back with a team to get them out.”

The regret in her eyes slowly transitioned to grim acceptance.

After a long, quiet moment, she finally relaxed enough to lean against him. Like a lover. Like a woman who knew what the action would do to a man.

The tent was warm. Her skin was hot. Flickering light played along the slender line of her throat and the gentle slope of her shoulder. Her thigh was warm beneath his hand, and her weight was all woman and enticing on his lap. In the moment, the idea that she’d been summoned to his tent as a sexual diversion felt a little too close for comfort.

He still didn’t understand why he was having such a strong reaction to her. She was just another woman in a long line of them.

“How do you know Wyatt?” she asked quietly.

“Long story. We can talk about it later,” he said, then warned her so she could prepare herself. “I’m going to pull the blanket away now.”

Louder, he said, “Okay, doll. Let’s have another look at the merchandise… Nice,” he said when the blanket pooled around her hips.

She closed her eyes and covered her breasts with her free arm, a small concession to her modesty and an action that would appear seductive from the outside looking in.

Hell, it was seductive. And it was very… southern. Like her voice. And very sweet.

Yet she was very, very tough, he conceded as he probed her bruises and she barely flinched.

“Give me a groan,” he whispered. “A loud one. And make it sexy.” If nothing else, it would give her a cover for the pain he knew he was inflicting.

She hesitated but then gave it her all.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, lowering her head. “That sounded ridiculous.”

He smiled against her hair. “Trust me. They’re panting out there.”

“Then they’re sick.”

He chuckled softly. “Tell me what you can about the camp routine. When do the guards change shifts?”

Her breath was warm against his throat as she leaned farther into him to enhance the show. “They change around eleven and again around seven. Maybe also around four in the afternoon. That’s as close as I can figure, judging by the position of the sun.”