Disclaim (Deliver #3) Read Online Pam Godwin

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, BDSM, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Deliver Series by Pam Godwin
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Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
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“How did you—? You did all this…” She stepped toward the nearest lemon tree and gripped tighter to his hand, pulling him with her as she studied the healthy branches. “They’re… God, they must be ten years old?”

“Yes.” His voice broke, and he cleared it. “Yeah, I’ve been at it a while. But I’ve had help. Hired one of the best citrus farmers in Florida about eight years ago.”

“Nico let you do this? I mean…wow. There must be four or five acres here.”

“Five acres. Four hundred trees. And Nico…” A smile pulled at his mouth. “He questions everything I do.”

Most of his arguments with the other man had been over the necessity of the eight-foot wall.

She didn’t let go of his hand as she entered the lane between two rows of lemon trees, scattering the bees that hovered around the blooms. Twisted branches arced over the path and tangled together, forming a living trellis of deep green foliage and dangling fruit.

When she tilted her head upward, a tear glistened on her cheek. She swatted it away with a soft smile on her lips.

“It’s just like home. The planting pattern. The archway. Every detail.” She stopped walking and turned toward him, her gaze on the inked leaves on his forearm, her fingers squeezing tighter around his. “You did this because you missed it?”

He lifted her chin with his free hand and held her gaze. “I missed you.”

She pulled her head back, and her focus slipped away, seeking the trees, the ground, their entwined hands. When she returned to his eyes, hers were wet with regret. But there was hope there, too.

“A five-acre grove recreating our childhood. Because you missed me.” She touched his jaw, the line of his throat, her gaze following the movement. “I understand you were taken by the Restrepos, and I assume you didn’t rise to the top-level in the span of a year. So you must’ve started as a lackey? Is that why you didn’t come back for me?”

“Camila—”

“I was there, Matias. Right there in that grove waiting for you for a year before…” She swallowed. “Before it was too late.”

“I couldn’t.” He released her hand and crushed her against him, holding her face to his chest as his insides rioted with invidious memories. “The men who found me—”

“Found you?”

Fuck. He should’ve chosen a different word. “The people who came for me that day made threats.”

“What kind of threats?”

She tried to lift her head, but he held her in place so she wouldn’t see the vulnerability in his expression. He was having a hell of a time evening his voice.

“They threatened everyone I cared about.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “Specifically you.”

She stiffened against him. “Why? What did they want?”

He couldn’t explain that part without unraveling every fucking thing he’d tried so hard to protect her from. “Camila, there are things I can’t tell—”

Her fist slammed against his abs, not with any kind of force, but hard enough to break free of his hold. She spun away, her face emblazoned with rage.

“You knew about my family.” She balled her hands at her sides. “The day I called you, when I escaped, you told me not to contact them.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me they were dead?”

“Lower your voice.” He folded his hands behind his back and widened his stance.

She glanced around, but the rows of trees blocked her view of the wall. “Is someone here?”

“No one has access to the grove besides Nico, the caretaker, you, and me.”

“Is Nico meeting us here?” She pulled on her ear nervously, her attention darting through the branches, as if she were torn between pursuing this conversation and focusing on her end goal.

“He’s waiting for us in the gazebo.” He turned and pointed down the path through the lemon trees. “Just through there.”

“We probably shouldn’t keep him waiting then.” She moved to walk past him but paused, her gaze lingering on his face.

She’d spent the past two weeks watching everything and everyone around her. There were slaves on the property, in her periphery, kneeling beside her at dinner, all of them gagged in her presence to prevent communication. But just as he’d hoped, the bulk of her searching had been focused on him, on what he knew and what he was hiding.

He needed her to not only see the truth for herself, but to see him, the man she was meant to love.

“Your uncle died in that fire, with my family.” With trembling fingers, she brushed the tattoo on his forearm.

It wasn’t a question, so he remained still and quiet beneath her rare touch.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her hand, letting it hang at her side. “I’ve been so angry, so suspicious about what happened to them, I’ve lost sight of the fact that you lost him, too.”



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