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“He was just… gone.” Her voice was frail and shaky, exposing a vulnerability uncharacteristic of her. “I don’t know what happened. None of us do. That’s what makes it even worse. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t want to give up hope, but I can feel it fading with each passing day,” she painfully explained while clutching the heart-shaped pendant on her necklace, her dark eyes shifting between sadness and bloodlust.
Without thinking, I reached for her hand, my thumb stroking her skin soothingly.
Francesca’s gaze shot up from the table and settled on my face. She wasn’t expecting such kindness from a man like me. Mixed with surprise, the pain that marred her beautiful features urged me to say something to take it all away.
“We’ll figure it out. You can count on me to help you get to the bottom of it.” I said, punctuating my words with a reassuring smile even though I knew that if no one had found him by now, he either didn’t want to be found or was already six feet under.
Francesca flashed me the first genuine smile she’d ever directed at me, and fuck me was it more blinding than the hot Cuban sun.
I wanted more of those smiles. More of the sparkle that shone in her dark, obsidian eyes.
“Come on, let's go for a walk.”
Throwing a couple of bills onto the table, I squeezed her hand tighter in mine and pulled her out of her seat.
We strolled through the streets, brightened by the colorful buildings in Havana, while street artists painted and played Cuban music, bringing the city alive. I hadn’t let go of her hand since we left the restaurant, our fingers tangled tightly the whole time.
It was so simple. So mundane. And yet, it felt like a whole new level of intimacy.
Francesca stopped, watching a crowd of people dancing to the Latin rhythm while her body obliviously swayed to the sound.
“Venga, Señorita. Bailar cura la alma.” Come, Miss. Dancing heals the soul.” An old man tugged on Francesca’s free hand, pulling her into the middle of the crowd while spinning her on her heels.
After what happened to Jamie, I couldn’t help the flashing image of someone touching her from corroding me inside.
I followed suit, stealing her from the arms of the dumb fucker who was about to sign his death sentence, just before his hands settled on her hips.
“Oh,” she squealed, and I swear that damn sound landed right on my dick.
“If you want to dance, you dance with me. Got it, Gattina?”
Francesca’s eyebrows shot up in a mix of shock and scorn before smoothing it back down with a grin on her face.
“What did you just call me?”
“Nothing.”
I dropped my hand from her waist and started pulling her out of the sea of dancing bodies. I wasn’t about to disclose to her that ever since I saw her crouched down behind that trunk, looking every single bit like a predator, that I had nicknamed her after a fucking cat. A kitten, in fact. Trying to look fierce when all I saw were soft mittens and a sharp tongue.
Francesca pulled back, resisting me and forcing me to turn back towards her.
“Will you give me the honor of this dance?”
“It’s not safe,” I grunted, but her eyes melted me right on the spot. The seductive batting of those lashes making me lose a war I didn’t want to win in the first place.
She closed the space between us, wrapping her arm around my waist and patting down on the gun that was sheathed behind my back, “I think you’ll keep us safe.”
“I don’t dance.” I tried again, coming out weak in my reply as I wrapped my arm around her again.
“If I want to dance, I dance with you, right?” She threw my words, spat out in jealousy, back at me. “Besides, you did last night. I want to dance. Is my husband going to refuse me?” She teased me while swaying her hips to the Latin rhythm and crumbling my resolve with each roll of her hips.
I grabbed her hand tighter, pulling her to me, her body colliding flush against mine, and fuck did it feel exactly right.
My grasp was supposed to be punishing to her, but instead, every damn movement of her body was punishing me with the need to claim her right here.
My hand slid down to the small of her back, her ass arching in response as if she was pleading for me to reach lower. We both moved in sync to the sexy sound as I led our movements to match the beat. The world disappeared around us. I could only focus on her.
On her sexy moves, the way her body grazed mine, teasing me, expertly blowing my resolve to push her away into smithereens.
