Stolen By The Queen: A Narcos Romance

Chapter 10

Camila sat on the edge of the bed in Ryan's room, her eyes darting around the sparse and neat space. Everything about the apartment was unassuming, the bed perfectly made, a few t-shirts folded neatly on top of the dresser. He'd picked her up at exactly noon, just as he stated the night before, his tanned skin slick with sweat from a workout.

He'd hardly said a word, speaking solely in grunts and nods as he handed her a coffee and a breakfast pastry as if the two were old-time partners in crime, and not that he'd thrust a black hood over her head and shoved her into a car just a few hours before. 

Camila stood, the sound of the shower going as Ryan rinsed off, her hands trailing absently over his things. She found a folder peeking out of a duffle bag and and began thumbing through, stopping when she saw her own face.

Barely any notes. No last name, no mention of her real identity. Just a headshot, her eyes staring back, blank and afraid. Even that photo in the wrong hands could ruin her--

"You find anything interesting?" Ryan stepped out of the bathroom, a pair of jeans hanging low on his muscled hips, the button undone. Camila fumbled with the papers, taking several steps back until she felt the edge of the bed hit the backs of her thighs. She tried not to appear too flustered, his shirtless torso no helping much. 

Ryan reached into the duffle, pulling out the file with her photo on it. "Not much to find is there?" He thumbed it between his fingers before pulling a lighter from inside the duffle bag and putting the flame to its corner. "You'd prefer this yes?"

"Yes." He smirked knowingly, taking the now burning paper into the bathroom, the sound of rushing sink water filling her ears. 

"Wasn't much help anyway," Ryan called from the bathroom, pulling on a shirt as he returned near the bed, "care to add any details for me?" 

"No."

"Figured as much." He leaned against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"What about you?" Camila tilted her head back to look at him, trying to calm her racing heart.

"What about me?"

"Is Ryan really your name?"

"About as much as Camila is really yours." They stared at one another, something charged between them. Two alpha wolves unwilling to let anyone in but forced to tentatively trust the person across from them. Both keeping secrets.

"What do you want to know?" Camila broke the stare, his hard gaze heating behind his blue eyes, Camila's legs shifting as she realized she was on his bed. "About Carlos Sinaloa, I mean."

"Everything." Ryan fixed his hand behind him on the dresser, dragging the other through his wet hair. 

"Hard to believe you don't know anything about him already." 

"Perhaps I'm looking to...cross-reference, let's say."

"You know," Camila glanced down at the comforter, her jaw tightening, "this...partnership...or whatever really isn't going to work if everything between us is a test."

"Everything between us is a test." Ryan snapped back, his eyes squinting. "So what's it going to be Camila--pass or fail?"

"Anyone ever tell you that you're an arrogant ass?" Camila couldn't stop the small chuckle that slipped past her lips despite the words. 

"All the time, sweetheart." Ryan dragged a chair from the corner of the room and positioned it's back facing Camila, lowering himself onto it, his thick corded forearms crossing over the chair's top. "Start talking."