He opened the jeep door and motioned her inside.
She stared at him, incredulous. “You don’t think I won’t—I don’t know—try to choke you? Or run? Or kill you in your sleep?”
One corner of his mouth lifted. The smile that followed sent a dangerous flutter straight through her chest.
“I would welcome it.” He leaned in closer. “Especially after last night.”
The sincerity in his voice made her breath hitch. She knew, with terrifying certainty, that he meant every word he had told her last night.
“I don’t need you to be nice to me,” she blurted, the words spilling out raw and defensive.
His brow arched and his roguish smile suggested he had an idea forming. “Prove it.”
“What?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice until it was meant for her alone. “Prove you’re someone I don’t need to be nice to.”
Her pulse jumped as he leaned in, his breath warm near her ear.
“Be the bitch I know you can be.”
She stared at him, mouth open, caught between outrage and confusion. “What are you saying?”
His gaze dipped, just briefly, to her lips before lifting again. Dark with intent.
“The men are bored,” he said quietly. “And I am trying to protect you. I would be … deeply grateful if you could help me do that.”
“But that’s not my?—”
“They don’t know that,” he cut in. His eyes flicked past her shoulder, towards the front where she knew José lingered. “Act up. Give me a reason to keep you glued to my side.” His voice dropped further. “I can’t stop nearly fifty men if they decide they want you, Gabriella.”
Her stomach dropped to her feet.
“So … pretend?” she whispered.
“Be angry. Be difficult. Be loud. Demand your needs similar to what you did last night.” His pupils dilated, his jaw tightening as if restraint cost him something real. “And I will stay right here.”
The jungle hummed around them, thick and heavy with danger.
So pretend to be difficult so that he can keep her by his side. She didn’t mind the notion. She actually preferred it. She swallowed, then nodded. “Okay.”
He leaned back. “You agreed to that quickly,” he commented.
A beat.
“Better to know the evil,” she muttered, “than pretend it doesn’t exist.”
That earned her a slow, approving look. “Indeed.”
She turned and climbed into the jeep, ignoring the nasty stare José shot her from the front seat. Settling in, she crossed her arms, lifted her chin and for the first time since the beach, chose the role that might keep her alive.
Right beside the devil she knew.
CHAPTER 13
GABRIELLA
Being a bitch was far more effective and far more satisfying than Gabriella had expected.