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“It was worth every ache.”

The simple certainty in his voice sent warmth through me all over again.

I leaned in for another kiss.

He stopped me barely an inch from his mouth.

“If you keep doing that, we’re going to keep Miguel waiting. José arranged for him to drive us most of the way to the airport so no one connects his truck to the FBO.”

“Oh.” I reluctantly eased back. “Then I suppose we should get dressed.”

Lachlan checked the time, then his eyes returned to my mouth.

“We have twenty minutes.”

I raised a brow. “That’s enough time to be useful.”

A slow smile spread across his face.

“Aye. Very.”

He pulled me back beneath him and kissed me.

Getting dressed could wait a little longer.

By the time Miguel’s red pickup carried us away from the chapel, I was clean, dressed, thoroughly satisfied, and wishing our escape plan had included another few hours in bed.

Lachlan sat beside me in the truck bed, looking almost civilized in the button-down he’d found among the church donations.

My backpack rested between my boots.

Before we left, Lachlan had made sure my ankle was securely wrapped and had done the same for his battered ribs. Miguel had supplied him with a holster and extra ammunition for both pistols. Lachlan unloaded each weapon, examined them carefully, checked the ammunition, then reloaded before securing Ciro’s in the holster and Rafael’s in my backpack.

Between Miguel’s preparations and Lachlan’s careful inspection, the message was clear: neither man expected a quiet trip to the airport.

For now, though, the road was quiet.

Miguel kept to narrow farm tracks winding through coffee country, the truck bouncing over ruts while green hills rolled past.

One particularly deep hole sent me sideways.

Lachlan’s arm caught me around the waist before I got far.

“Almost lost you there.”

“I was perfectly fine.”

“Aye. You looked very graceful.”

I swatted his forearm and tried to pull away.

Lachlan laughed, tightened his arm around my waist, and hauled me right back against his side.

“Nice try, Mouse.”

I gave him an exaggerated huff, but settled against him anyway, watching the countryside pass.

Children in school uniforms walked along one road, talking and laughing among themselves. Bright shirts and sheets fluttered from a clothesline outside a small house. Somewhere beyond a stand of trees, music played loudly enough that I could hear it over the truck’s engine.