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She wriggled to put space between them. “I’m not.”

He wasn’t having any of that. “You pick.”

He handed her the remote and dragged her flush against his body again.

“Fine,” she snapped.

But he caught a spark of interest in her eyes.

She scrolled through the available selections until she found a comedy they’d watched together years ago. He remembered that night perfectly: Haisley curled against him on his couch, both of them laughing until they cried, her face glowing with happiness. Back when things between them had been simpler. Back when she’d trusted him.

As the opening credits rolled, he stroked her hair and swept his fingertips over her shoulder. Her familiar scent teased his nose and made him hard. Somehow, she managed to hold herself carefully apart, even while he pressed her against his side.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, some of the tension left her. Twenty minutes into the film, he felt her lips twitch against his chest. Not quite a smile, but close.

It wasn’t much. They still had a mountain of issues to work through—his deception about Jasper, her secret pregnancy, the trauma of their current situation. But the fact that she wasn’t pulling away, that she was letting him offer this small comfort…

It was the first bit of progress they’d made since this shit began.

Unfortunately, the nightmare was casting a long shadow. Nash knew he was taking a risk by treating Haisley more like a girlfriend than a sex slave. Cameras were always watching. But she needed a little more time. He couldn’t give her long without arousing too much suspicion. Hunter would probably have his ass for putting her feelings first. But he couldn’t toss her on the bed and demand she put out because it fit their narrative. It would destroy her last shred of trust in him.

For now, he pressed a kiss to her temple, allowing himself to hope that maybe, if he gave her a little more time, they would find their way back to each other. If they survived this hell, he’d spend the rest of his life making sure she never had reason to doubt him again.

For now, though, he’d take this moment. This tiny victory. This glimpse of his Haisley underneath all the fear and pain. Then he’d try to repair their connection into something truly unbreakable and lasting.

Because losing her forever would destroy him.

* * *

The next morning, Nash woke to pale sunlight and the warmth of Haisley’s body against his. Her delicious vanilla-musky scent filled his nose. He glanced down and drank in her fiery hair spilling across his chest. Somewhere in the night, she’d tangled herself around him—leg hooked over his thigh, head tucked under his chin, fingers curled around his ribs. The feel of her splayed against him made him hard as fuck, even as it stirred his heart.

He’d give anything to lose himself in the moment and forget they were living this nightmare. To roll her to her back, kiss her awake, and heap pleasure on her. To worship her body and show her with every touch how much she meant to him until she screamed in ecstasy.

Not happening.

At least she’d sought him in her sleep. After the movie they’d shared last night, it felt like a step in the right direction. But there was no telling what her mood would be when she opened her eyes.

He shoved that worry aside and tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her crown. His body ached to explore her soft curves. She wasn’t ready yet, but he couldn’t give her much longer. Gray and his minions would get suspicious if he didn’t avail himself of his “prize” soon.

Nash would rather not touch her again until she came to him willingly…but he might not get that choice.

Sighing, he eased from her embrace and dressed. She made a small sound of protest, but he had work to do. Kane was waiting for him.

They had plans to make.

As he stepped out of the building, the humid Caribbean breeze blew in with the morning air. Kane was already waiting on the beach, his morning run providing the cover. Nash fell into step beside him, matching his pace.

“Tell me you have something,” Nash said under his breath.

“I think so. East side of the island. Supply dock in a shallow bay. Boats come and go at all hours, usually under cover of darkness. Security is lighter there. They’re more focused on the main dock where guests arrive.”

“Sounds promising. Timeline?”

“Give me a day or two to scout it properly.” Kane’s voice dropped further as a guard patrolled the area on his rounds. “By the way, you’ve got an appointment at the spa at nine. New hairdresser. Hunter’s contact.”

The bosses worked fast. “Got any other information? Background?”

“Karliah Dane is one of the best. Former CIA field operative, specialized in deep cover work. Did three years undercover breaking up trafficking rings in Eastern Europe. Two years with Interpol’s organized crime unit. She’s young, but her record is impressive.”