He laughed. “Go figure.”

“Do you want to know what I thought about you that first night?”

“Honey, I think that flare gun pointed at my chest said it all.” He wrapped his hand around her lower calf and tugged. Before she knew how it happened, she was on her back and he was over her, his hands planted on the ground on each side of her head. “And despite you having tried to kill me, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman.” He lowered his face to hers. “But I think you know that,” he said right before he kissed her.

The touch of his naked mouth on hers instantly sent a ripple of desire across her skin. His lips gently pressed and coaxed. His tongue lightly caressed, and she let go and gave in to her hunger. Or perhaps, as with most of her dealings with Max, she really didn’t have a choice. He eased onto his side next to her and took his time exploring her mouth. Her lips parted further, and the kiss deepened into a lush fondling of mouths and tongues. He tasted of dark passion and the promise of explosive, curl-your-toes, head-banging-against-the-headboards sex.

The languid kiss seduced and teased until her every thought narrowed and focused on the liquid warmth of his mouth. Heat flushed her breasts and stomach and pooled between her thighs. She ran her hand up the taut flesh of his arms, over his shoulder, to the side of his neck. She slipped her fingers through his short fine hair and he groaned into her mouth.

Max pulled back from the kiss and looked up into her face. His harsh breath caressed her cheek as his blue eyes burned into her. The way Max stared at her, all dark intensity, made her feel beautiful and desired and alive with anticipation.

His gaze drifted past her mouth and chin to the front of her dress. A smile of appreciation curved the corners of his lips, and she looked down at herself, at the buttons lying open, exposing the tops of her breasts and her Cleavage Clicker bra. His quick smooth hands had been busy again, and she grasped the front of her dress.

He grabbed her wrist. “Just let me look at you,” he said, his voice rough. He buried his face in the side of her neck and whispered, “Please, Lola.” His lips brushed her skin, and then he opened his mouth and sucked the hollow of her throat.

He let go of her wrist and brushed his fingertips along the scalloped edge of her bra. “You’re so beautiful. So soft,” he said, and not being a man given to patience, he slid his hand beneath the lace cup and palmed her bare breast. “Everywhere,” he added, and took a deep shuddering breath as her nipple puckered to a hard, painful point against his palm. One of his knees parted hers and she brought his mouth back to hers. His tongue swept into her mouth, hot and wet and hungry. And without giving herself time to think better of it, she curled into him. He brought his knee between her thighs, and the feel of him against the thin layer of her lacy panties made her ache for more intimate contact. Of hot flesh to flesh. For his blatant erection pressing into her hip. The kiss turned ravenous, feeding, and so wonderful, it tore a drugged moan from her chest.

Max pulled back and looked into her face. His chest rose and fell, and he slid his gaze to his big hand on her breast. “Lola, if you’re going to stop me, do it now.”

She hadn’t really given a thought to stopping him, and she didn’t now. “I saw some condoms on the yacht,” she said as she slid her palm over each defined muscle of his chest and arm, down his belly, to his fly. He sucked in his breath as she flattened her palm against his rigid erection.

“Too small,” he said as he exhaled. “Are you on birth control?”

She’d had an IUD for five years and it had never failed her. “Yes,” she answered.

“Thank you, God.” Lust burned hot and vibrant in his eyes as he peeled back the cup of her bra and exposed her to his greedy gaze. He stared at her for several long seconds, then lowered his face to her breast and gave her nipple an open-mouthed kiss. His tongue licked and stroked and instantly drove her wild. With each hot pull of his mouth, the tension built between her legs.

Lola’s hand moved to his button fly and she tugged at it, but his hand on her wrist stopped her. He lifted his head, and a breeze blew across her heated skin and wet nipple. He stilled completely, then his gaze flew to the right.

“Max?”

He placed a finger to his lips.

Over the sound of her pounding heart and her shallow breathing, Lola heard it, too. In the distance, male voices rose in the still humid air. She reached for the front of her dress as Max rose to his knees. She knelt beside him and listened. From the other side of the blue hole, the voices blended together in a tangle of Spanish. Relief swelled within her like a balloon as she hurried to button her dress. She and Max and Baby were going home. Finally.

Through the tall grasses and brush, Lola watched three dark-skinned men move around the edge of the water toward them. She glanced across her shoulder at Max, and her hands stilled. Gone was the smoldering desire in his eyes. As if a curtain had fallen, his gaze was narrowed, intent, watchful. Then he turned and looked at her, his eyes flat and cold. Alarm ran up her spine to the base of her skull. She recognized the hard set to his jaw and the lines compressing his mouth. She’d seen it through the darkness that first night on the Dora Mae.

Max pointed to her pashmina and her dog and made a circling motion toward the tree. She didn’t think to question him. Not now. She gathered her wrap, then on her hands and knees moved toward Baby. She picked him up from the duffel bag and crawled through the brush Max pulled aside for her. Through the foliage, he handed her the duffel and her purse. She fastened the last buttons on her dress with one hand and held Baby with the other.

Above the pounding in her ears, the voices drifted closer. Other than what she’d learned here and there growing up, Lola knew very little Spanish. She recognized not a word. The brush parted once more, and Max crawled through. For such a big man, he moved without a sound.

The voices grew closer, and Lola estimated they stood on the spot where she’d earlier bathed her feet. Max knelt on one knee beside her and slipped the fish knife from the top of his boot. At the sight of the long thin blade, her muscles froze.

Baby’s ears perked up, and as she reached to wrap a hand around his muzzle, he barked and launched himself from her arms. Before she could call him back or dive after him, Max was on top of her, pinning her to the ground, his hand over her mouth. “Let him go,” Max whispered right next to her ear.

She shook her head as Baby’s excited barking filled the widening space between her and her dog. The voices stopped, and panic gripped Lola’s stomach, just as it had the day she’d thought she’d lost him to the Atlantic Ocean.

“Do you want to die?” he whispered, his hard gaze pinning her before he turned his attention to what was taking place by the blue hole.

She stopped struggling. No, she didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to just sit back and let someone hurt Baby, either.

The dog’s barking became more agitated, the way it did when he barked so hard his back legs lifted off the ground. She’d always worried that his Napoleon complex would someday be his Waterloo, and today it just might happen. Laughter joined the commotion and then a distressed yip.

Lola could not control the whimper that came from the base of her throat. She pulled air into her lungs through her nose, and everything blurred. Baby was just a dog, but he was her dog and she loved him. She knew that he could be a pain in the backside, but he was her pain in the backside, and he needed her.

Max felt the moisture of Lola’s tears against his fingertips and looked down into her wide shimmering eyes. And he did it again. He opened his mouth and made a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. In fact, he was quite sure he couldn’t keep it, but that didn’t stop him from whispering next to her ear, “I’ll get your dog back for you. But you have to be quiet or we won’t live long enough to get him back.”

She nodded, and the weight of her trust pressed in on him. What was he doing? Risking his life for a little yapper? For a little rat with a huge chip on his shoulder?

Max took his hand from her mouth and motioned for her to stay down. Of course, she didn’t. She knelt beside him and peered through the thick brush. A pair of boots moved toward them and stopped less than three feet away. Right on the spot where he’d laid Lola on the ground and kissed her breast. Where he’d been so consumed with her that he’d failed to hear the men until they were practically on top of him.

The men spoke Latin-American Spanish, and the others referred to the man in front of Max as teniente, but he wasn’t a lieutenant in the Colombian military. In fact, Max doubted he had any military experience at all. Around the tree, grasses were bent, and on close inspection, it was obvious that the area had recently been disturbed. Max had quickly swept the area with a broken tree limb, but he’d had little time to do a thorough job. The teniente didn’t seem to notice.

He issued orders to search the area and find the owners of the perro. He was so close, Max could see the seams of the guy’s fatigues and the K-Bar knife stuck in the top of his boot. He noticed the slight protrusion beneath his pant leg, which Max would bet his ass concealed an ankle holster. The holster would just naturally contain a 9mm semiautomatic. In the man’s hands, Max already knew he held an M-60. These boys were armed to the teeth and looking for trouble.

They were looking for drug drops, and if discovered, Max would immediately be shot. Unless these were members of the Cosella cartel. He didn’t have to wonder what they’d do to him if that were the case. He’d already had a taste. Even though he doubted these men could positively identify him, his body still bore the telling bruises he’d received at the hands of Jose Cosella. But no matter what they would do to him, Lola would fare much worse. The thought of what she would suffer tightened his fist around the knife handle. If either of them stood a chance, he would have to take care of the man in front of him without alerting the others.