"He's a practical man and a survivor." Rafe slipped his hand between her legs. "Like you."
Isabella – Rafe could never think of her as Bella and even in his thoughts he used the name that conjured up the Isabella of the night they'd met in the bar – pushed him aside and sat up.
Confused, he stared at her. "There's nothing wrong with being a survivor."
"I'm not like Santos," she insisted.
"Of course not." He reached for her again. "Look, Santos gave you the information about Maria for no practical reason. You'd have given him full immunity regardless of getting the real story about your sister."
"That's true." She sank back and let him wrap his arms around her. "Learning about Maria was… extra."
"The important thing is that Vargas is locked up, he's not getting out of prison until he's a very old man, if even then, and you have some peace of mind about your sister."
Her face softened as she reached for his, holding it between her two hands. "And I have you." She smiled and brushed her lips against his.
He laughed as he dipped his mouth to hers. "What more could you ask for?"
"Uh, why don't you show me?" she whispered in his ear, darting her tongue out to tickle and tantalize his lobe. "I might get out of practice."
"No chance of that." He rolled over to cradle himself between her thighs. "I intend to allow you plenty of time to… refine your skills."
Jo Robertson
