Stolen By The Queen: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 7

Camila quietly slipped into the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind her. The walls were covered in black marble, gold fixtures glinting like flames under the dim light. She gripped the edges of the glamours sink, the cool marble smooth against her palms as she faced her reflection in the mirror. She could feel the thrumming buzz of alcohol in her veins, absently thinking she should have eaten something before downing those shots. She hadn't been able to eat much today, too nervous for tonight's party to work up much of an appetite. 

Camila ran her hands under the cold water of the sink, trying to calm her breathing when she heard the door click open and closed, not moving her gaze from her reflection in the mirror. 

She saw Ryan's tall, muscular figure come to stand behind her, his face somber as he met her eyes in the reflection. 

"A good start." Ryan's voice was clipped, his jaw granite and his brown hair looking more russet under the warm glow of the bathroom's glamorous overhead lights.

"What do you mean?"

"Bringing me to Carlos Sinaloa's house on night one." 

Camila inhaled a shaky breath, slowly wiping her hands on towel by the sink. "Did you not trust me?"

"I never trust anyone." Ryan glanced down, wrapping his hand around his back. "Takes a lot to earn it." 

"Well, perhaps the same is true for me." Camila waited until his gaze returned to hers in the mirror, holding her ground despite her nerves.

"Fair enough." Ryan trapped her in to the edge of sink without touching her, his large tan hands splaying wide on the counter's surface beside her hips. "But you're going to need to trust me on what happens next." 

"Excuse me?"

"I got a meeting with Carlos. Through Esteban." 

"Already?" Camila couldn't keep the surprise from her face, her eyes widening. 

"With one condition." 

Camila clamped her jaw shut, her heart racing. "I'm not giving my body away--"

"No." Ryan cut her off, his eyes narrowing slightly with an emotion Camila couldn't name. "You're not." 

"Then what?" 

Ryan dipped his head again before returning his eyes to the mirror. "Lift up the hem of your dress, Camila." 

Camila ground her teeth, restraining herself from turning around and slapping him. "That rule applies to you too, gringo." 

Ryan shook his head, a short, rough laugh leaving from the back of his throat. "Not interested, sugar. I'm trying to help you." 

"And how is that?" 

Ryan didn't respond, instead reaching back behind himself and pulling out a black-handled knife, the silver blade flickering in the mirror's reflection as he set it down on the black marble counter with a clank. 

"The condition is that I leave you at this party. A test of my priorities." Ryan's blue-eyed gaze seared into her. "I'll come back for you." 

"What?"

"Until then," he nods toward her hip, "I'm not going to leave you completely unarmed. Now lift the hem of your dress." 

Camila blinked rapidly at the severe tone of his words, wondering if he was lying to her. Had it gotten all that he'd needed from her already? She began to panic at the thought.

"Wait." Camila straightened her spine, feeling Ryan's hard chest at her back. "You'll still need me, you know. These kinds of meetings with Carlos can fall through anytime. You'll want more connections, more intel--"

"Relax. I said I'm coming back for you. I never go against my word." Ryan pulled a small roll of black elastic string from his back pocket, setting it down next to the knife. 

"Well what if you're lying to me? You did it quite easily with Esteban." 

Ryan smirked, the look nearly sinister on his brutally masculine face. Camila found herself shifting from foot to foot, her stomach knotting. 

"Guess you're just going to have to trust me then, aren't you?" Ryan reached for the knife and Camila flinched, his hand deftly slicing through a segment of the elastic rope. 

"Looks like you already knew this was going to happen." Camila couldn't keep her voice from shaking as he returned the rest of the rope to his pocket.

"I like to be prepared." Ryan tilted his head, his neck bobbing with a swallow.

"And I'm supposed to--what--use that knife on any man who tries to touch me?"

"Any man you don't want touching you, yes. Try to wait until he goes far enough--"

"I got it. Fine." Camila glanced down at the counter, her fingers sliding from the cool marble to the short silk hem of her dress. She slid up the fabric with her gaze cast down, her cheeks and neck flushing, grateful for the dim light of the space. 

"Look at me." Ryan's voice was a crisp demand as Camila raised her head again, her lace underwear exposed in the mirror, her hand shaking slightly as she met Ryan's eyes. She watched entranced as his callused fingers slipped the black elastic string around her upper thigh, barely ghosting her. Touching her only when absolutely necessary. He slipped the knife in and gave it a quick snap, a small sound like a yelp slipping past Camila's lips. The knife felt cool against her sensitive skin as as slipped it between the band, gently lowering the hem of her dress to conceal it. "That should hold." 

He stepped away from her back, his hands hanging by his sides. Camila didn't miss the way his fingers flexed once before he slipped his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. 

"Where's your purse?" Camila swallowed thickly, her throat dry again with nerves as she reached over the kitchen sink and grabbed her small handbag. She turned around from the mirror, finally facing him as she handed it over. He pulled a small device no larger than a quarter from his back pocket, dropping it inside. 

"What's that?"

"Location tracker. Don't let that purse out of your sight. I'll be back in a few hours."

Ryan turned to leave, his hand gripping the door of the bathroom.

"Wait." Camila clutched the bag in her hands, "what am I supposed to do until then?" 

Ryan licked his lips before biting down on his lower lip, lifting his head to face. "Go back out there and enjoy the party." He didn't smile, something dark in his gaze as he threw the door open and closed it a little harder than necessary behind him. 

Camila reached inside her bag, starting at the small mechanical device before pulling out her lipgloss, applying a fresh coat with slightly trembling hands before fluffing her hair and taking a deep breath.

Go out and enjoy the party for a few hours. She could that. After all, what choice did she have?