Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Her nipples were visible through the thin T-shirt, and his eyes went where hers had not, to a colossal invitation for him to take her clothing off and have his way with her. Should I go out in this weather? Hell. Could I remain there without fear? His privates expanded, causing his jeans to exert excruciating pressure on him. He was not driven to this level of insanity by any lady. If he allowed his damn dick to rule his judgments, he would have been dead a hundred times over by now.

He clenched his jaw in frustration as his eyes unconsciously wandered once more to those squeezable little nipples. His cock throbbed with pleasure. He unleashed the mounting irritation he was feeling on her by lashing out at her verbally. "I don't plan to dispute your legal competence. It is up to me to find a way for us to get out of this situation alive. We're safe. We will not be in danger. And we will talk to the appropriate individuals in order to get the trial started. Why don't you just let me get on with it without scrutinizing my every action?

Neither he nor she anticipated that the other would shrink in the face of his assault. The natural arch of her brows lowered ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, and then her face contorted into an angry frown as she jabbed her small palms at her voluptuous hips. She asked me in complete disbelief, "You didn't dispute my abilities?" You threatened to take matters into your own hands if I didn't do what you told me to do, which is do my job. Her delivery was mocking to him. "To put it another way, you led me to believe that I was responsible for any result through manipulation. If that isn't a clear indication that you have doubts about my capabilities, I don't know what is.

He retorted by saying that questioning you wasn't the point at all. "It all comes down to reality. Pedro is not permitted to go free."

After she had opened her mouth to begin, she pulled her lips into a narrow line and continued speaking. As she looked to examine what she had just said, she took a breath and then exhaled it. "I'm going to deviate from a topic on which it is abundantly clear that we are unable to reach a consensus in order to say this. It's a matter of life and death for me. Do not assume that I will obey your instructions without question. I have the right to be informed about matters pertaining to my own personal safety.

Would you have any different expectations if you were in my position?

Even though they weren't talking about him, he gave the impression that they were. Instead, he made himself listen to what she had to say and think about it. Because he was so skilled at what he did, he wanted her to have complete faith in him and not question it at all. But in any case, she would be unwise to go without taking precautions. Their history together had been a brief one, but it had been a tumultuous and difficult one.

His attitude toward her began to change. What was it about this woman that was able to take the resiliency he had built up inside and break it down?

"Try," he murmured, his tone soft and his sharpness gone from his voice. What else was there for him to say? "All that I ask is that you give it a go."

Her expression gradually became more relaxed. As she crossed her arms in front of her chest, her anger and accusation faded away. She was still on watch, but she was not actively defending herself. “I will. I promise."

He had the impression that meant something. They had both agreed to a compromise. Now what he needed was some space to himself before the coziness morphed into something else—perhaps comfort, but more likely sex, which was precisely what he was trying to avoid. Having sex with Anna was about the most distracting thing that could possibly happen to a man.

It was only eight o'clock in the morning, as he quickly determined by looking at the clock. "Let's make this supply run out as quickly as possible. If we scale up our efforts, we will have time to make those phone calls, eat, and get some sleep before sundown.

She giggled as she realized she was already questioning him again and asked, "And then?" after recognizing she was doing so. “Sorry. I just can't help being this way."

"I know you can't," he continued, though he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence with a smile because he was so goddamn exhausted. "I know you can't." But not so exhausted that she couldn't appreciate Anna's grin. Despite her messy appearance and lack of makeup, she radiated beauty. "However, I do not know the answer to that question. Not yet."

"Not before we get an exact date for the trial." There was no question involved.

"Exactly," he nodded in assent. "For the time being, let's see to our own wellbeing and grab something to eat." Before I lose track of who I am and let my hunger to be satisfied by you,

Anna stands in the small store and watched as Jerome threw chips, candies, and a variety of other items into a wicker basket. "I was under the impression that we required supplies?"

"This is the crucial thing," he stated while picking up a bag of Doritos with a tone that conveyed the utmost level of seriousness. He gave off the impression of being a man on a mission, and that purpose appeared to be to induce a heart attack. "We ought to go shopping for some outfits."

That made her blink twice. "Where are you?"

"Right," he remarked, indicating a number of racks that included garments in the style of souvenirs. Holiday clothes at best. "Grab a couple of pairs of shorts and some T-shirts for both of us. A few different sets of two. And footwear. No sandals. I'm a size twelve," you might say.

She made her way to the clothing racks with reluctance, secretly longing for something more substantial but being grateful for anything at this moment in time. A hot shower and clean clothes of any kind seemed like heaven to him right about now.

In addition to the racks, there were other tables with shirts and shorts laid out on them. Anna started by examining the contents, and then she chose a few things to take. Two shirts in an extra-large size for Jerome, two mediums for her, and two pairs of shorts with a pattern for her. She decided to get Jerome a pair of dark blue parachute shorts. His choices were severely restricted. It was either the ones with an orange flowery pattern or the ones with a dark blue background, both of which she could not picture him wearing.

However, considering the personal attacks he made towards her, he was more than deserving of the neon flowers. She smiled as she hung up the blue shorts and reached for two pairs of the orange ones instead.

When she heard someone ask next to her, "Souvenir shopping?," she was in the process of reaching for a pair of tennis shoes.

When Anna looked up, she found herself gazing into the eager eyes of a stunning, beach-blond god of a guy who couldn't have been more than twenty-two years old. He smiled alluringly at her while standing well over six feet taller than she was and towering over him. His attire, which consisted of shorts and a tank top, was designed to highlight the flawless form he possessed. Anna is not salivating in the way that other women would be. She had developed a rather obsessive fascination with a certain tall, dark renegade who was known for his poor demeanor and fiery temper.

Even yet, the sight of a familiar face at this point was very much appreciated. In response to his smile, Anna provided an answer to his question. "Or something along those lines."

"Yeah, me, too." He made a grab for one of his T-shirts. "Gotta carry gifts back to the family," said the narrator. He stared at her for a long time, thinking to himself and flirting with her, which was ridiculous considering the fact that she appeared to be in a state of extreme agony. "I'm Rick."

It's a pleasure to meet you, Rick. After hearing his comment on the importance of family, she started thinking about her sister. She was in desperate need of hearing her own voice.

He remarked, "The most difficult person is my mother." "I am always at a loss for what to give her."

She recalled her own mother, which was another inappropriate topic of conversation. Anna had lost most of her familiarity with her. The decision to leave the family business caused a great deal of upheaval. Anna's excuse for not spending Christmas with her family the previous year was that she was too busy with work. Her focus eventually came back to be on Rick. What exactly is so difficult about shopping for your mother?

He made this remark while waiving his hand over the table and saying, "For one thing, she doesn't wear T-shirts."

"There are no T-shirts?" Anna poked fun at the situation while mustering up a half smile. "Well, at this point you really just have one choice."

His brow was raised at that. Which one is it?

"Why, yes, that would be a coffee cup. It's common knowledge that vacationers bring back souvenirs like T-shirts and coffee mugs.

They laughed at the same time. "You will not be successful in persuading my sister of that. She believes that shoes are the ideal present for any event, regardless of the nature of the celebration. If it cannot be worn on the feet, then it is not something that should be owned.

Anna nodded her head in assent and complimented the young lady, saying, "Smart girl." "This happens to be one of my very favorites as well."

"Of course." Just before he changed the subject, his facial expression suggested that was something that was already established. "How long have you been in this place?"

It took her a second to process the question because her attention was still focused on her sister. She said, "Um," as she racked her brain for an appropriate response, "I haven't decided."

The room was filled with a laugh of disbelief. You're at the beach, but you have no idea how long you're going to remain, do you? That is definitely one of a kind. The majority of individuals always arrive prepared."

A possessive blaze erupted within of Anna after she was stroked on the back from behind by a hand that moved to the small of her back. Jerome moved closer to her, but she didn't even bother to look in his direction. Rick's face was covered with shock, and he appeared to be on the verge of panic. Jerome gave her a gaze that only grew more intense as he stated, "She does have a plan." His voice was hard, deep, seductive. Being at this place with me.

Rick heaved a sigh. "Oh," he said. "I'm sorry, guy. I wasn't... well... I mean..."

Anna opened her mouth to utter anything, anything at all, in the hopes that it might save the humiliation of the unfortunate child. On the other hand, Jerome wrapped his arm over her shoulder and dragged her into the crevice of his chin. This contact robbed her of more than her breath; it diverted her concentration away from Rick, who needed it. Jerome's lengthy legs rubbed up against hers, sending electricity through every part of her body. It was a basic gesture that is routinely exchanged by couples, but her response was anything but simple.

Rick remarked, with a hesitant tone in his voice, "Sorry if I interrupted," as he started to move away from the table, dropping the shirt as he did so. It was obvious that he was prepared to go quickly.

Why did Jerome feel it was necessary to threaten such a small child who was doing nothing wrong? It made no sense. She didn't think he was the type of guy who would flaunt his strength in such a manner, therefore she didn't expect him to. Anger began to brew inside her.

Jerome replied, with an insinuation of demand in his tone, "We ought to be moving."

"Me, too," Rick swiftly agreed, and then he was gone, tearing through the store as if he'd been set on fire. Rick's behavior was really strange.

Anna turned her back on Jerome and attempted to move away from him, but he grabbed her waist and held her so tight that their legs were intertwined and their hips were in alignment. It took an extra amount of work for her to get out the angry remarks that she had been getting ready to blurt out a few seconds earlier.

She uttered the question in a hushed tone. "What's your problem?"

His voice was deep and menacing. The look of impatience that was present in his eyes. "You don't seem to catch the point. It doesn't matter who it is; everyone is a potential risk.