“Come, beautiful.” A yellow and black sparrow hops nearer to my trail of breadcrumbs. “Closer.”

I’ve tempted him for days with my leftover croissants. Through a steady diet of fat and sugar, he’ll learn to trust me. He pecks the floor as I grab my sketchbook and pencil, drawing the bird’s pattern with quick hatch-marks. 

It soars to the table, inches from my hand. This is the closest it’s ever been. I hold my breath as it jumps onto my plate. Every inch of me is still, even my eyes. 

The bird suddenly notices my presence. It disappears in a flash. 

Abandoning my sketch, I walk to the railing to search the swaying leaves. He’s there—a speck of gold among the green. 

“I’m not done with you.” I hold out a generous piece of pastry, but the little beast glides away. “Fine. Be that way.”

August thinks I’ve made up my mind about this place, but I’m dreading the trip home. This world is rich with color. An artist’s paradise. I woke up to find an easel holding a blank canvas with a note attached. 

Sadistic bastard. 

I can barely think straight. My thoughts dive into the gutter when I picture his face. All I think about is sex, which was probably his plan: Get her insane with lust and then put a ring on her finger. I already have the damn ring, and visions from yesterday won’t leave me alone. What could have happened? What will happen on our wedding night?

What will he be like?

Sighing, I snap the book shut and stow the art supplies. I can’t let my only conversation today be with a bird, but it’s hard to meet people. Occasionally, I’ll catch Rosa when she cleans the room, but the gardeners, cooks, and security speak little English. So far, I’ve expanded my vocabulary by a couple of sentences.

I choose mid-thigh shorts, tank top, and a pair of gladiator sandals. I exit the bedroom and navigate the hallway filled with guest bedrooms. I peek into some, my nose wrinkling at the dust. They haven’t been used in ages.

I try the brass handle of another door. It refuses to budge. Locked. 

Interesting. What’s inside?

I could search for a key, but August wouldn’t want me poking around, and I’d rather be outside. I head downstairs, walking underneath an archway bordered by palms. The harsh sun blankets me in heat as I walk over the finely ground sand. 

Quick footsteps crunch the path ahead, and I run into a dark blur. 

I lose my balance. Strong hands seize my wrists. I right myself with a palm against a man’s broad chest. 

I smooth his lapels. “God, I’m sorry. I ran into you.” 

“No worries.” 

The familiar, silky voice tugs at my memory. I glance at a bronze face framed with charcoal hair. Alejandro—or Alex, as he likes to be called. The overwhelming black must be stifling, but Alex wears it with pride. 

“Hi.”

“Good morning. I was hoping I’d see you again.”

The breath catches in my throat. 

Ballsy, isn’t he? Men like him can afford to be cocky. “Me too.”

“How have you been?”

Is that a veiled query? Why didn’t you call me? “I—I’ve been okay. It’s lonely. No one speaks English, and I’m by myself most of the time.” I cut off my babbling with a laugh. “Sorry. I’m whining.”

“I don’t mind listening.”

He looks like he’s interested, but not in what I’m saying. There’s greed in his eyes. 

I’m flattered, but I’m wearing August’s ring. Hitting on me is a huge no-no. “How have you been?”

“Más o menos.”

“Do you always wear that uniform?” 

I regret the question. I’m making polite conversation, but Alex smiles as if I complimented his ass.

He plucks at his sleeve. “Yeah, pretty much. General Espada has a strict dress code.”

I rub my arms feverishly, even though it’s blazing hot. “Oh.”

“Come,” he says. “I’d like to show you something.”

Flustered and confused, I walk down the path at his side. Men in this country are different. 

I’m not accustomed to having my space invaded. “Do you—do you visit here often?”

“Not really. But the general has a special interest in you.”

“Because I’m his son’s fiancée.”

“Yes.” After a beat, he continues in a quiet voice. “Will you marry him?” 

The real answer’s no, but I can’t admit that.

Alex reads the worst from my expression. “You’re not sure.”

I’m overwhelmed by his penetrating gaze and the heat beating on my head. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Another pair of footsteps crunches the trail. My heart slams into my chest as Carlos waddles into view, eyes narrowing at the sight of us. 

Alex’s tone flattens. “Carlos.”

“Hey!” I wave at August’s mellow bodyguard, who frowns at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” A smile hitches on his round face.

Clearly, there is something. I open my mouth to ask, but Alex grasps my shoulder and kisses both cheeks. “Bye, Lily. We’ll talk again soon.”

I’m still not used to that. “Sure.”

With a parting smirk at Carlos, he disappears. I’m sorry to see him go because Carlos isn’t much of a conversationalist. He always greets me with a soft buenos días or buenas noches. I’m desperate for someone to chat with, but Carlos seems hell-bent on maintaining a polite distance. 

I’ll beat him down. “Do you know where my fiancé is?”

“You want to see him?”

“Yeah.” 

Carlos takes me to the driveway filled with cars. He opens the passenger door of a silver Mercedes. I slide into the warm interior. We drive through the gate, whisking down a road bordered with jungle. He continues until a building looms ahead. It looks like a ranch house.

We park in a dirt lot, and I exit the car. A sign welcomes us to Cecilia Chocolate, which has a stenciled bust of a middle-aged, pretty woman. It hangs over the clay tiles and adobe walls, blending in with the flora. 

People mill over the grounds. Mostly men, working the fields to the right. I step closer to the thick trees with huge, green pods hanging on the bark. I watch in fascination as they remove the football-sized seed and split it open with an ax.

“Mira.” Carlos beckons, his smile inviting. 

I shyly approach the farmers and peer at the halves. The inside resembles a giant ear of white corn, but it smells like citrus. They offer me a piece. I taste it, marveling at the lemony sweetness. “Wow. This is chocolate?” 

Carlos taps my shoulders, showing me boxes stacked. They’re filled with the same pulpy fruit. Looks like some kind of processing. A vinegar aroma wafts from them. Fermentation. 

He shows me, I’m assuming, the next stage of the harvest. I walk into a translucent tent that reminds me of a greenhouse to see trays of dark beans, laid out to dry. Workers sift through them, performing a quality check.

Carlos takes me outside, pointing to a strip of hotel-like rooms. “Everybody has a house.”

I frown, not putting it together until he gestures at the employees. “Oh, they live here. I see.”

He nods, walking to the building. He opens the door, and I wander into the lobby. A pomegranate tree sits in a flower pot beside the receptionist’s stand. This part looks like a work-in-progress. A half-finished map of the country is drawn on the wall. Flyers and cards with the company’s logo sit on the desk. We stroll the hall, approaching a glass displaying a busy interior. Giant steel machinery packs the room. Huge centrifuges spin as men wearing hairnets move yellow buckets of cacao beans.

Does he employ all these people? “What is all that?”

A silky voice whispers in my ear. “Chocolate.”

A thick arm slides around my waist, pinning me to his side. My heart lodges in my throat. “Hey.”

August turns my face toward his and kisses me. It’s quick, but that doesn’t disrupt the heat wave from rolling through my body. 

“Thanks,” he says to Carlos. “I’ll take her from here.” 

He gives August a cheerful salute and leaves. 

August watches him go, smiling. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

Such an ass. “Are you going to tell me what this is?”

“It’s a factory.” He points at the glass. “I make chocolate bars.”

“No fucking way.” I gape at him. “Seriously?”

“We’re not a big operation. The coffee is more of a money maker—”

“That’s cool!” I walk from the windows, taking it all in. “I don’t understand why you kept this a secret.”

He grins. “There are only so many places in the world that can grow chocolate.”

“And I never would’ve come if I knew.” Self-disgust churns my stomach. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” It’s true.

“You’re not dumb for wanting a better life.” August takes my hand. I’m startled by the energy flowing through me. “Stop fighting me. Start getting to know me.”

Easy for him. He didn’t pick up and leave everything behind. “Carlos said you provide housing.”

“Homelessness is a problem here, too. I wanted to give locals jobs and pay them well. That’s how we got certified fair trade. It means we maintain fair wages and safe working conditions. It’s not cheap to use the logo, but it’s worth it.” He beams with bright-eyed enthusiasm. “The workers get bonuses, too. The more good quality beans they produce, the more they earn. It keeps morale up and means everybody has an incentive to work hard.”

“That’s amazing, August.” I’m disoriented. Weeks ago, August was my closest friend. I thought I knew him inside and out. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks.” 

August gives me a tour of the factory, his voice glowing with pride as he describes the bean to bar process. “Actually, I have a call with Starbucks. My coffee business already ships the product to them, but we’re thinking of distributing the chocolate, too.”

He backs into an unmarked door, which swings open. A varnished desk sits in the middle of a Spartan room. No windows. No witnesses.

Just me and August trapped in here.

Perfect.

Last night August left me panting. It’s time to return the favor. 

“How long will it take?”

“Few minutes. Make yourself comfortable.”

Oh, I will.

August picks up the phone. I wait until he’s settled in, listening to the murmur of conversation. 

Then I take my top off.

August’s flow of words grinds to a halt. His eyes flick to mine, narrowing in warning. I drape the shirt over his knickknacks.

He drags his attention back to the conference. “Sorry, you were saying?”

It’s working, but he’s too good at avoiding me. I stand, loosening my bra straps. They fall down. I lean over, my breasts spilling from confinement. I drop the lingerie onto his lap. 

He smirks but doesn’t stammer. 

I unzip my jeans, shimmying them down my waist. The thong is next to go. The lace slips down my thighs. 

August moves his knee in a restless jig. He avoids me as though afraid to give his full awareness. 

I won’t let him look away.

Naked, I slide over his paperwork. I push aside his mug. My feet nudge his knees. 

“Yeah. Well, it’s like I told you before. We’re a small company and just got certified for fair trade, which is growing in demand on the West Coast. You’ll find that my product is quite—” He stops when his stare wanders too low. “Great.”

His face turns beet red, but he continues without another blunder. Damn him. What’ll it take to make him lose control? 

Time for extreme measures.

I sink to the floor. My hands move over his legs, and still, he doesn’t stutter. I spread them apart. 

August clears his throat twice. He fidgets with his tie.

I stroke the firm muscles hidden under his slacks, grabbing the tented bulge. I squeeze him. He twitches. 

I watch his fists tremble. “Right. No, we have the same concerns.”

I seize his zipper and pull. Then I reach inside, sliding under his briefs. I feel shaved hair and a long, hard cock. His nostrils flare as I massage his length.

August inhales a sharp gasp, pulling the receiver. I ignore his glare and force his cock from his pants. I clutch the base and pucker my lips, blowing over his head.

His knuckles whiten. “Yes, I’m still here.”

My lips massage his underside. 

He shuts his eyes as though praying for resolve. “I’d be glad to forward you samples. Just leave me your address, and I’ll ship a couple—a couple bars of our customer favorites.”

I draw circles. Then I take him. The reward is the rapturous look on his face. His fingers knot my hair. Instead of yanking me away, he holds me steady. My lips make a seal as he slides in and out. I flick upward, playing with his head.

The office fills with the sounds of me sucking him off, and August talking in curt phrases. He grips my neck, forcing me to swallow him. 

Fuck, he mouths. Fuck.

His focus is suffering. I taunt him with my lips as August asks for the address three times.

“Thank you, Steve,” he says in a strangled voice. “I’ll be in touch.”

I move away, leaving him stabbing foolishly in the air. 

He hangs up the phone, livid. “Where the hell are you going?”

I grin. “I’m done.”

“You’re what?”

“Sorry.” I gather my clothes quickly. “This is payback for last night.”

August stands, his pants sliding down his ass. He looks fierce enough to throw me over the desk and fuck me, and I might let him.

“Oh, Lily. I’ll get you for this.” August stuffs himself into his slacks, zipping his massive erection. “You just wait.”

I finish dressing with deliberate slowness, wishing he didn’t have so much restraint. I want to see him unleashed.