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“You are awfully confident.”

“I’ve heard you moan, Isabella.”

“Twice.”

“Okay, okay.”

My face warmed.

“That crisis of conscience certainly disappeared quickly.”

“You just made it very clear you knew exactly what you were choosing.”

“And you immediately became insufferable again.”

His mouth curved. “Good. Would’ve hated to lose one of my better qualities.”

I tried to pass him.

His hand closed around mine.

I stopped and glanced down at our joined fingers before looking back up.

“One thing hasn’t changed, Mouse. Protecting you from men with guns, cliffs, Marcela, or anyone else trying to hurt you? Not negotiable. I’ll put myself between you and them every fucking time.”

“That wasn’t the part I objected to.”

“I know.” His thumb moved slowly over my knuckles. “Your life is yours. Where you go, what you do, who you touch, who you fuck—those decisions belong to you.”

“Even if you hate the choice?”

His expression darkened. “I reserve the right to hate it.”

A laugh escaped me.

He released my hand, and we started downhill again.

After several steps, Lachlan adjusted the front of his trousers with a grimace.

“We should probably stop talking about sex.”

I glanced over.

“Why?”

He gave me a flat look.

My eyes dropped.

Oh.

I laughed.

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“You survived Ciro Delgado’s dungeon. Surely you can survive a hard-on.”

“That remains to be seen.”