Page 34 of Rio (Knight Empire #3)

“It was nice and peaceful when I set out.”

He shakes his head, causing water droplets to fall off. He’s soaked through. “You could have drowned.”

“But I didn’t. I lived to have the pleasure of your company again.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growls. “Couldn’t you just have a cocktail by the beach?”

“I’m a working woman, besides, I could ask you the same. What are you doing here?”

“I came for you.” He pulls his T-shirt away from his chest.

“Why? I didn’t ask you to.” I fold my arms, because if he thinks I’m going to be grateful and thank him forever for this, he’s sorely mistaken.

The silence between us turns thick and heavy, just like my shorts.

His face twists, and I guess I do sound ungrateful.

He smooths his hair back again, jaw clenched.

The storm still rages outside, and the amber glow from the lamp still throws long shadows against the run-down walls.

The wind sneaks in through the gaps, and the light flickers, barely, because the oil is low and it’s not going to last long enough.

Not all night, which is what I’ve prepared myself for.

Water droplets dribble down his face and he flaps his arms, trying to shake the water off. This is my worst nightmare. Being trapped in here, just the two of us.

No, your worst nightmare would be to be here alone.

“You always think you know best,” he snaps.

“And you always think people owe you answers.”

He glares at me, and my insides turn to steel. I waggle my finger at him. “I don’t want to hear a word about the injunction, if that’s the reason you came looking for me.”

“I needed to talk to you about the way you went about it.”

I wipe a hand over my face. “You can’t. We shouldn’t even be in the same room together.”

“And yet somehow that’s how we end up.”

I’m curious and puzzled. “You should have called me, Knight. Saved yourself the journey here. How did you get here?”

“I drove.”

“But the roads are bad!”

“A road. One, narrow, windy, dirt road.”

And he came anyway. For me, to make sure I was safe, and he put himself in danger.

The hardness in my chest loosens. This man who was filled with wrath yesterday, put his life on the line to come and find me.

The walls I’ve kept steadfast and fixed around me, to keep him out, start to crack a little.

I’m so pathetic at this. Constantly running into Rio has softened my resolve.

“You should’ve come to me,” he says.

“My generator was working just fine this morning,” I quip. I can’t help myself. I resort to sarcasm when things start to feel too serious.

He steps closer, and I almost step back, needing space between us. But I hold my ground, refusing to be intimidated.

“Why are you out here, still chasing evidence? Still trying to make sure your case actually holds?”

I laugh out loud. Not only because it’s absurd and the last thing I expected him to come out with, but because he’s so wrong .

“How did you know I’d be here?” I demand.

“Alma. She hinted that you were trying to get something. Is it more evidence?”

“Might be, but not for the reasons you think.” I cross my arms, and try my hardest not to let my gaze wander to the way his shirt sticks to his chest. “I have more than a watertight case.”

“Bullshit.”

“A lot of this damage is caused by the construction. Your construction.”

“Did you look at the folder I gave you?”

“I did.” I added some notes from it, but I’m not about to tell him that, although, now I’m starting to wonder if that was wise, because the data looked too clean.

Too sanitized. Images of mangrove roots mysteriously healthy after supposed clear-cutting.

Photos that looked staged, of “replanted” trees.

Environmental impact reports saying that the resort will “boost biodiversity” when it’s not what I see with my own eyes.

I didn’t include too much of what he gave me, and now that I’ve been here, I’m glad I didn’t.

He looks around the hut, moving the flickering lamp to shine a light on something lying on the crates. He picks it up. It’s a flashlight. He flicks a switch and the light comes on. He shoves it into his pocket. “You find whatever it was you were looking for?”

“I did. I’ve seen enough. I’m shocked you don’t see it.”

We’re barely inches apart now, and I brace myself for his cocky rebuttal.

“I believe you.”

“I want to protect this island,” I snap. “Wait, what? ” That’s the last thing I expected him to say.

“You heard.” Thunder rolls. Lightning strikes again, and the roof of the hut shudders. I jump, startled.

He looks up. “This isn’t safe.”

“I know.” It’s barely a whisper.

“It’s no safer outside.” He glances at the door.

I wish I hadn’t come here. Was it worth it? Maybe. But I want to make it out alive.

“Now we’re stuck here,” he says, taking his shirt off until he’s standing in front of me, his muscles and abs rippling under a sheen of dampness. I suddenly feel hotter. Forcing myself to look away, I stare at a gap in the wall.

“I didn’t ask you to come looking for me. I’m not a damsel in distress. I can take of myself.”

“You think so?” He shoots me a look that makes my stomach wither. “Look where we are. And it’s a tin roof.” He gestures around the battered living space.

I hear him, and I’m all too aware of the danger. But I wish he’d put that shirt back on. Instead he spreads it out over a rickety chair, and he looks as sexy as sin, distracting as hell, and as infuriating as only a Knight knows how.

“Again, I didn’t ask you to come looking for me.” I slap a hand across my slick neck. My tank top sticks to me, and that I’m certain I look a disheveled sight. My frayed denim shorts feel heavy and uncomfortable, and if I didn’t have a visitor, I would have taken them off.

“I’m not going to argue with you about this now. I’m here, and I’m going to do my damndest to make sure we’re safe.”

“I hope Daddy Knight doesn’t sue me to death, if anything happens to his beloved son.”

A muscle ticks along the side of his jaw. He frowns, like he’s about to say something, and I feel the weight of his stare. Wish I’d kept my mouth shut, because he must think I’m such an ungrateful woman. I clear my throat.

“You said you believe me. So, have you stopped believing the lies you’re being fed?”

“I came here to smooth things. To calm things down. I wasn’t aware of what was going on, but now I believe something definitely is going on, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“It’s not hard to do. You should try using your eyes. Didn’t you see the dying mangroves?”

He turns silent. His brows pushing together like he’s thinking about it. “You hate the Knights.”

That’s his rebuttal?

“I have good reason to.”

“You hate us because your warped sense of belief tells you we’re the bad guys. That we’re out to damage the world and take everything from people less fortunate than us.”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

He shakes his head, looking as perplexed by my stance as I am about his.

“Don’t you see the damage?” I snap. “Didn’t you hear the people at the community hall? You’d have to be blind and deaf, or willingly callous, not to.”

He lets out a loud sigh, hands on hips, rain still dripping off him. “We try to be ethical, most of the time. Sometimes, it’s not possible, and we do the best we can, for the land and the people.”

“That’s what you tell yourself,” I snarl.

“Why are you dumping construction runoff near protected mangroves? You might think you’re He-Man, fighting the elements to come and find me, but when the storm calms down, I invite you to come out here again and take a good look with wide open eyes.

See for yourself. I’m shocked that you still haven’t managed an inspection. ”

“My old man says the indigenous communities exaggerate damage to get leverage, and sometimes to extort corporations. That it’s climate change, not Delport, or Knight Enterprises, ruining the coastline.”

I can’t believe my ears. “Do you seriously believe that?”

“It’s what he says but, the truth is, I don’t know what to believe anymore.” He pauses, looking more conflicted than ever. “But I’m not ignoring it now.”

The wind howls like a banshee, causing the roof of the hut to shake again. I look up, feel suddenly scared that it could cave in. Wind whistles through a gap in the wall, cooling my skin, and I become more afraid with each passing minute.

I’m glad Rio is here. I wouldn’t want to spend the night alone. He’s right. I could have been in extreme danger. I probably still am, and I’ve also now put him in danger.

The light of the lamp flickers as if it’s on its last few breaths before dying. The light in the huts dims, and soon we’ll be in utter darkness.

“I’m not as bad as you think,” he says, quietly.

He’s not. I have to hand it to him. “I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t have wanted to spend the night alone.”

The lamp flickers suddenly then dies, leaving us in darkness.

It feels suffocating in here. Outside, the storm rages like a demon possessed, wild and violent.

In between pauses, I hear Rio’s breathing.

Maybe he hears mine, tight and shallow, like I’m afraid to draw a deep breath, like I’m playing small, and safe, and invisible.

I feel scared. Not scared of the dark, but scared of how tonight could end, of what being trapped in here with the one man I can’t resist might do to me.

“We can’t stay like this all night,” he says, his voice moving away. I hear an “Ouch,” then a “fuck,” and some noise as objects clatter.

“What are you doing?” I put my arms out, feeling around me as I take a few careful small steps forward the sound of his voice.

He shines a light, in the air, illuminating us. “Your boss gave me a bag of supplies, but I left it in the Jeep. I’m going to get it.”

“Don’t be so stupid—”

But he opens the door to leave. The noise is deafening. The wind gusts inside and sends a few things flying. Then, the door shuts and he’s gone. Leaving me in the pitch blackness, in utter silence. He’s outside in this, all because of me.