Free The Muscle Part Three by Michelle St. James

weren’t friends. They would never be that. They were too different, and Luca knew their honor code was virtually non-existent. But he believed Sanchez would be true to their agreement, and he believed he could count on his men to hold up their end of the bargain when they met Diego at the dock.
    “I think we can trust them with this,” he said. “Sanchez wants the drugs, and he wants to take Diego out of the equation as a message to anyone else who might be thinking about betraying a territory agreement. He doesn’t care about us, and he knows we’re connected. I don’t think fucking us would be worth the backlash.”
    Farrell nodded. “Fucking Columbians.”
    The words were incongruous when said with Farrell’s British accent, and Luca laughed. They sat in silence for a couple minutes before Farrell spoke again.
    “She’s had a rough time of it,” he said, his eyes on Isabel standing cautiously by the food laid out on the bar.
    Luca sighed, his eyes on her from across the terrace. “She has.”
    She was as beautiful as ever in a long dress and sandals, her hair tied back into a conservative twist that only served to highlight her delicate bone structure and full lips. The dress revealed nothing to the casual eye, but he knew her body well enough to catch the hint of her hips, the taper of her waist, the full breasts that filled his big hands.
    “Will she be all right?” Farrell asked.
    “I don’t know,” Luca answered honestly. “I hope so.”
    “Will she let you help her when this is over?” he asked.
    “I hope so,” Luca said again, realizing for the first time how tenuous his future with her was. They hadn’t talked about it beyond getting Sofia to safety. For all he knew, she wanted to take Sofia and leave, put as much distance between them and the mess in Miami as possible, take some time to heal by herself.
    Farrell sighed and took a swig of the sweating beer in his hand. “Women. They’re going to destroy us.”
    Luca glanced at him. The words were uncharacteristic — Farrell usually steered clear of anything personal — but Luca wasn’t entirely surprised. From the moment he’d shown up at the house he’d seemed different. Still mostly silent. Still with the violent, frenetic energy that had always made Nico uneasy. But now there was something reflective in his eyes. Something that made Luca wonder what was going on with Farrell Black.
    “You never told me why you’re in the States,” Luca said. “I thought you hated it here.”
    Farrell studied the rim of the bottle. “Nothing wrong with America. I simply have my reasons for avoiding it.”
    Luca lifted an eyebrow. “Women?”
    Farrell grimaced. “Something like that.” He stared out across the pool, face pensive. “Have you ever wanted something so much you’d do anything to have it?”
    “Someone, you mean?” Luca asked.
    Farrell met his eyes, his gaze even. “Maybe.”
    Luca looked at Isabel, laughing at something Marco said. “Yes.”
    “And what do you do if you can’t have it?” he asked.
    “You learn to live with it,” Luca said, thinking of the long months when Nico and Angel had been apart. But Nico hadn’t been living then. Not really. And now Luca understood. He would go on breathing without Isabel, but it would only be an approximation of living.
    “I tried that,” Farrell said, draining his beer. “Didn’t bloody work.”
    Luca hid his surprise. What kind of woman would it take to bring a man like Farrell to his knees?

16
    S he woke up when the sun was just a promise on the horizon behind the house. A soft yellow light leaked in through the open balcony doors, and a salty breeze blew the sheers on either side. She expected Luca to be asleep, but when she turned her head she was surprised to find that he was wide awake and looking right at her.
    “Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out to smooth back her hair.
    She smiled. “Good morning.”
    Then she remembered what day it was, and