Son of a Gun. Joanna Wayne

his emotions—except with her. She’d been his one weak spot. He’d been her strength.

       “I should go and let you get some sleep,” Carolina said.

       “I am tired,” Emma admitted. “And that bed looks so tempting I can’t wait to crawl between the sheets. I know I’ve said it a half-dozen times tonight, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality.”

       Carolina’s hand closed around the doorknob, but she hesitated. “You know, Emma, I have this feeling that God sent you to us tonight—as much for us as for you. Sleep tight.”

      * * *

      EMMA DROPPED TO THE BED as the door closed behind Carolina. She’d never met a family like the Lamberts. That would make it doubly hard to leave in the morning. But with luck she’d be out of here before Damien decided to go look for her ditched car. The plan was already worked out in her mind.

       There was just one last detail to take care of. She picked up the phone and made a call that would put her plan in motion.

       Once she’d showered, she snuggled under the covers and closed her eyes. She expected to see Caudillo’s image waiting for her in the dark with angry threats of what he’d do to her for escaping his paradise prison.

       But it was Damien’s face that appeared as she drifted into a sound, safe sleep.